Page 62 of Unlocking Ruin

“I’m eating you as a late-night dessert. Be a good girl and moan louder for me.” I hear the grin on his lips as he replies.

He forces my thighs wider; the slight scruff on his jawline tickles and leaves a little sting. He makes my body his, consuming me with his touch and affection. I’ll never be the same again. There is no recovery after this. Just an aftermath.

“That’s it, claw my desk so every time I sit down I remember you lying here, grinding into my face. Next time I want you to ride my face, Rylan.”

“Next time,” I mutter, barely coherent.

“It’s healthy to have three meals a day, plus snacks, of course,” he replies. He sucks my clit into his hot mouth. My mind, my willpower, my identity. Gone. Sucked into his mouth and claimed by his lips.

Own me. Do whatever you want, Steffen, just don’t stop.

If he wanted to rename me, he could, as long as he promised to do that twisting, swirling move with his tongue. What is my name? I forget! All I know is this moment.

He devours me with kisses, tasting every inch of me as I reach a climax that alters my brain chemistry, seeing stars. I remain still, breathing heavily, eyes shut tight.

His teeth sink into my inner thigh. “Delicious,” he mutters. Once more, they indent my hipbone, firmly enough for his mark to remain, yet without causing pain. He pulls up my shirt, leaving kisses and marks as he travels up my body to my mouth. “Good girls get rewards; you kept your eyes closed,” he remarks, full of admiration.

“Can I open them?” I ask, my voice thick, laden with lust, hungry for more.

My lips meet his. I taste myself; taste him mixed with me. “Mmmm, open your eyes,” he moans, as he slows down the kiss.

Our eyes collide, framed by the shadows of the room, yet I see so deep into his, I don’t want to look away.

“I have fought enough battles,” he says. His hand reaches out; he runs his fingertip along a fresh scratch mark on his desk. “I’m not fighting this feeling anymore.” His eyes soften; gone is the monster. Here stands the desperate man.

He begins to push back, giving me space. I lift my legs and encircle him with them. A moment of shock, then desire flashes in his eyes. Then he’s above me, rubbing his huge erection against my center.

“You said I could have options.” Sitting up, I brace his shoulders. Unclasping my legs, I slide off the desk. My body glues to his as he stands, taking a deep breath on the fringes of losing control.

“Rylan,” he warns.

If this is a dream, then I’m going to make it my naughtiest yet.

Reaching up, I place my palm on his chest. Hard muscle greets me.

He grabs my wrist.

“Let go,” I order him.

I want this. I want to taste it. Grabbing the waistband of his sweatpants, I push them down.

“Rylan,” he whispers.

I grab his shirt and push it up, but he stops me. His abs tighten; I see traces of ink and scarred skin before he pulls his shirt down suddenly.

If he thinks I’m stopping, he’s wrong. He broke a part of me. I’ll slowly do the same.

I lick my lips and gaze at him. “If you cross this line, there’s no exit, no other road. You’re mine,” he mutters in a voice I’ve not heard before. It’s all power, hardness. Not a gentle tone in sight.

My reply is a shove that has him falling back into the desk chair. I step between his legs, press my palms on his hard, muscled thighs, and lower myself. With slow grace, I slide my hands up his legs till my fingers wrap around his length.

His thighs flex and raise an inch. His breath becomes deep, heavy pants that boost my ego.

“Have you dreamed about this?” As I ask, I run my tongue over my lips.

He answers immediately, “Every night.”

Parting my lips, I lower my mouth to him. I take him deep, licking and swirling.