Page 103 of Scarred Ruin

The danger could take a number.

The people desperate for his attention could find their own answers.

What we were sharing was far too important.

As he pulled out so only the tip of his cock was inside, I raked my fingernails down his chest. Perhaps that awakened the beast inside once again. The rhythm of before ensued, the thrusts brutal yet controlled.

Just like the man.

I squeezed my thighs, holding him in place.

Perhaps fearful he would be the one to try to escape.

Together we rocked, our bodies entwined, our minds in the same place. And I had a feeling that our hearts were heading in the same direction as well. Maybe, just maybe a man like Maxsim could find love again and in doing so, a few moments of peace.

Within seconds my body was tingling with raw bliss as he brought me closer to another mind-boggling orgasm. I could sense he was trying to hold back, fighting to bring me as much pleasure as possible.

Yet all I could think about was having him fill me with his seed. As soon as I squeezed my pussy muscles, he lifted his head and allowed me to enjoy the sound of a deep, husky growl.

All while our bodies moved together.

I kept my eyes on him, gasping for air and as soon as a climax tickled my toes and I cried out, I could feel every muscle in his body beginning to relax.

And he released, filling me with his seed.

Our breathlessness brought nervous laughter, the feel of being in his arms thrilling.

He lifted his head, his chest rising and falling. “I lied, Isabel. I wouldn’t have left.”

“I know. And I wouldn’t have wanted you to.”

Whether or not this was love had no immediate answer, but I knew one thing that would keep me feeling as alive as at this moment.

He’d somehow become my everything.

CHAPTER 21

Maxsim

Two days before Christmas

I stood at the window of my luxurious office, staring at turbulent ocean waters. I’d been deep in thought for hours. In truth, weeks.

The Atlantic was certainly putting on a show today. Miles of violent, churning gray, with crests of white foam tearing across the surface like wild horses. As I remained unblinking while studying the insidious tempest, a familiar itch settled in my chest. The ugly sensations were brutal, unrelenting, and completely indifferent to whatever was happening in my office.

“You do realize it’s almost Christmas. Right?”

Hearing my brother’s voice and seeing his reflection in the glass was a reminder of the type of man I’d become. Heartless. Cold. And brutal.

The days of waiting for the next attack had left me on edge, my personality becoming even darker and more unrelenting than before. So I’d been told by almost everyone around me.

“I have work to finish,” I told him as an excuse when I’d barely glanced at my computer since I’d arrived. Which as of late had become later and later. I was known as being a heartless man in all aspects of business, but those closest to me had noticed a significant change in my demeanor.

That shouldn’t bother me as I was happier at this moment in time than I’d been in years, but a looming sense of destruction remained a heavy weight around my neck.

Instead of a crown of gold, it felt as if I’d been fitted with rusted chains.

“I can see that.” Roman was exactly like me, refusing to allow protocol or rules to interfere with anything he wanted.