Page 112 of Unlocking Ruin

“Stolen items have to be kept safe,” I reply. “Vaulted up.”

Finally, his eyes look into mine. He cups my face.

“I thought the best punishment would be to pick you. Now you’re stuck with me.”

His grin causes all his grief and dark shadows to vanish. “When do I start to serve my time?”

“It’s a lifelong sentence.” I reach for his belt and slide it loose. “Your punishment starts right now. So don't bother begging for parole.”

A dangerous smirk touches his lips. “If you're the enforcer, freedom is the last thing on my mind.”

“No turning back.”

“I wouldn't have it any other way.”

“Fuck, Rylan,” he growls, his hands rough as he rolls me onto my back.

In seconds, he shoves his pants down, his breath harsh and needy against my cheek, sending a shiver through me. My fingers fumble for my zipper, but his calloused hands shove mine aside, taking over to tear the fabric open and bare me to the cold air.

We’re both trapped by the heavy, stiff leather of our boots and tangled pants, locked in a desperate, clumsy struggle that only makes the heat between us feel more agonizing.

His mouth slams onto mine, hot and possessive, swallowing the low whimper that escapes my throat.

I spread my legs as wide as the tangled fabric allows.

The softness of the dirt, the hard bite of the pebbles digging into my bare skin, his weight on top of me—it all blurs into a storm of unleashed passion that might ruin us.

He pulls back just enough to grip himself, his blue eyes burning into mine as he strokes his length, smirking as he takes in how slick and ready I am for him.

That’s when I notice a new scar on his thigh. He doesn’t give me time to ask what happened. He shifts, widening his legs and lowering himself. The tip of him begins to push inside me, slowly, caring.

“Fuck, I’m home,” he whispers to himself. “I missed you.”

I suck in a ragged breath as he stretches me.

Behind him, the trees sway overhead, reminding me how exposed we are.

I don’t care. All that matters is us. Our twisted love took root and flourished in the poisoned soil of our lives. Even something scarred and broken can be beautiful—and loved.

“Relax for me,” he coaxes, trying to push in another inch. “It’s okay, it’s all going to be okay now. We’ve got each other.”

“I still hate you,” I say, my body betraying me as more wetness pools between my thighs.

I can’t stand it—the emptiness. I shift my hips, trying to get his long, hard length inside me.

“I want all of you right now.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Baby, you couldn’t hurt me if you tried. I’ve changed; I know how to defend myself. Now claim me like you mean it.”

His eyes grow darker, his chest expands, and his erection becomes even firmer. “Stop holding back. I have.” I smirk, but my grin is forced wide open as he thrusts deep inside me.

My hips arch upward, tightening around him. He thrusts long, deep, and hard into me, and my only response is to hold on.

My nails bite into the hard muscle of his shoulders. I drag his mouth to mine, crushing our lips together in a kiss that tastes of blood and hunger.

“Just like that,” I breathe against his mouth, my teeth catching his lower lip, drawing a sharp gasp from both of us.