Page 28 of Ruthless Dream

She is a fucking gift, this woman.

My cock strains against my pants. Her nipples are hard. She doesn’t know it, but her fear feeds into my destruction.

She’s a spoiled rich princess, but I’m her knight in shining armor. The one who will protect this body. And control it.

I purposely had her keep her underwear on. She trembles as my fingers skim over her legs, hooking into the waistband. I move her waist, pulling the thong down. I make sure she feels the fabric smooth over her. I want her to be aware of the action. That it’s me undressing her.

Her lips are pressed together, refusing to make noise. To show any weakness.

The underwear drops to the floor. I push her thighs apart and force myself to remain calm.

A squeak comes from her, but I take my time openly staring at her pussy. At the curves of her body. Her hair fans out around her naked shoulders, and her tits shake slightly because she shivers under my gaze.

What I wouldn’t do to that pussy. I could spend hours tracing her cunt with my tongue, edging her until she’s begging me. There’s a savage need to tear into it with my cock.

I’ve seen the taunting messages she’s sent to boys. I promise, she’s never been fucked by a man.

My fingers linger against her skin, and she makes another noise when I trace the swell of her breast. I tweak her nipple, and her lips part, but her eyes dilate.

My cock hurts, confined in my trousers.

I lean forward, my hands around her waist. I notice how her body jerks and then stills. Desperation lines her face, but I don’t think my girl is scared. Desire haunts her, and I decide right then and there that I’ll kill as many men as it takes to keep her.

She’s expecting me to torture her. To touch her and tease her.

I keep the kiss delicate before moving back.

“Get under the covers,” I order.

She wraps the bedding around her like a shield. I turn off the lights, shucking off my clothes before I get in on the other side. I don’t touch her again, but I’m aware every time she peeks over at me.

CHAPTER 7

Adeline

How does one kill their fake boyfriend?

My eyes burn, air pollution and the constant threat of tears wreaking havoc on them. I shoulder my way through a busy crosswalk, pulling my bag closer. Class just released, but instead of worrying about homework and upcoming essays, I’m freaking the fuck out over a dead bodyguard and Ciaran O’Connell.

You’re going to be okay, Adeline. You always think of something.

I’m the planner. The one who can pivot if something isn’t going right and make it work.

Except every time I think about this past weekend, I’m engulfed in a giant pit of flames.

I’m going to hell because it’s not even the dead guy making my skin heat. Ciaran’s brown eyes running over my naked body sends a flare of warmth to my belly every time the memory pops up.

The memory that annoyingly will not go away. Just like Ciaran himself.

Think, Adeline!

I dodge past a group of tourists while trying to come up with a solution.

My battle is on two fronts.

One is Ciaran bulldozing in and trying to claim me. The bigger issue by far, though, is the idea that Jack somehow got information out of me.

Learning to keep your mouth shut is growing up in the Bratva 101. Unknowingly giving something away claws at me from the inside. This is my fault. I fucked something up, and worse, I have no idea how or when.