Page 44 of Scarred Ruin

God help me, but I did.

And I knew there was neither a man nor a god who would save me.

She was trembling when I ripped the thong away, almost to the point of covering herself. When her hand floated to the sweet space between her legs, I pointed my finger at her.

“Never try and cover yourself again. Not once. If you do, you’ll be punished.”

Her smile was more of her cunning self and I knew she’d stretch her boundaries at some point.

Which I wouldn’t mind.

For now, I wrapped my arm around her, lifting her off the floor and almost immediately placing her in the center of the bed.

Time had run out for enjoyment of our push–pull.

I had to taste her.

Dropping to my knees, as soon as I gathered her legs into my arms, I lowered my head.

And took my first taste of sweet, forbidden fruit.

CHAPTER 9

Isabel

Maxsim was very much a wolf as I’d noted before.

Lurking in the shadows, watching and waiting until the right time while his hunger was fueled by power and sinful conversations.

I’d seen the dangerous underbelly of his world, at least enough to sense what I was truly dealing with.

My problem was that I wanted to see the whole thing.

Every inch of his muscular body.

But his arrogance, his total disregard for playing by any set of rules had already carved a special place in hell for him like all such men.

Forget being a monster.

He was the devil himself.

How far down in my past had he gone or was he intending to go? With what little I knew about him, I sensed he was thorough in everything he did, never leaving anything to chance.

Except for an episode of allowing his daughter to be a normal little girl instead of being in a sea of soldiers. In his mind, his decision had been a mistake.

As well as a reminder.

He was no fool. He’d sensed my driven connection to him and the attraction from the moment we’d met. All my pretense about keeping him at arm’s length had been nothing but a joke. I loathed how easy I’d been to read. But no, this wasn’t supposed to happen. I didn’t need instincts to tell me I could very easily be in danger.

The powerful Russian had all but said so himself.

With every stroke of his hand, every rough kiss, I’d been pulled into a shadowed vacuum. I should have followed my instincts, refusing to have dinner with him.

This was nothing that I’d expected.

Nothing at all.

Who had I been trying to kid with thinking I could go on a business ‘date’ with a man like Maxsim and there wouldn’t be complications? I’d walked straight into his lair instead of being dragged there. Dinner had been nothing more than a creative method of interrogation.