Perfect Ruin (Unyielding #2)

“I can’t. I can’t sleep naked.” I hated it. After the fire, I wanted to be ready. Be prepared to escape if I needed to.

He raised his head and looked at me. The moonlight revealed the left side of his face, unshaven for a couple days, with brows low over his eyes—contemplative. But there was the intensity of a blazing fire of desire in the glass pupils staring back at me.

It set me aflame to see that and my body relaxed into him. He must have noticed because he let go of my wrists, then took hold of the bottom of my T-shirt and slowly pulled it over my head and tossed it on the floor.

“There is no debate here, London. Until we’re done, you’ll be naked when you slip beneath the sheets.” He cupped my chin, so I was forced to meet his penetrating green eyes. “And if you give away what I buy for you again, I won’t hurt you, but I will most assuredly hurt them.”

I gasped, eyes widening as fear scintillated into me. “You didn’t….” Oh, God. Ernie. “Please, you didn’t hurt him.”

“That was a warning.”

He didn’t say anything more and instead, took my nipple in his mouth again. I couldn’t react. I was freaked out, scared at what I’d gotten myself involved with. Scared he’d hurt a defenseless man because I’d given him the coffee and croissant.

I lay still as he trailed kisses to my other breast. My body reacted to his kisses, his touch, but my mind was elsewhere.

“Fuck.” He pushed away from me and climbed off the bed. He tossed the sheet aside so it went up in the air like a parachute catching the air then collapsed on top of me as the air suffocated beneath it.

I stayed where I was, not looking at him, but I heard him stride across the room then the light to the washroom blared and the tap turned on for a minute then shut off.

I sat up as the light turned off again and his bare feet padded back toward the bed. I bit my lower lip when I saw his narrowed eyes and dipped brows. Angry. And he’d obviously washed his face because moisture clung to his skin. Water from a few strands of hair near his forehead trickled onto his shirt.

“Get up.”

I jerked at his harsh voice. I grabbed the sheet and held it to me like it was a shield against his anger.

“Do you want to find out what I’m like when I’m really pissed off?”

I didn’t. I really didn’t, but everything in me rejected the idea of being ordered around. My dad thought my stubbornness was cute. But at this moment, my stubbornness was going to get me hurt or worse, killed. No. That wasn’t true. No matter how dangerous Kai was or what this was, I knew there was something in him that was good. That Kai wouldn’t hurt me… at least not physically. Emotionally, I wasn’t so confident.

I swallowed my pride and stood, taking the sheet with me.

“Leave the sheet.”

I clamped my teeth together and dropped it. I stood half-naked in front of him.

I raised my chin and refused to cover my breasts with my hands as I faced him. His eyes flicked over my chest for a second before he held out his hand. When I didn’t take it immediately, his brows raised in warning.

I put my hand in his and he led me into the living room. He lowered onto the couch, his back against the armrest, then he urged me down, so I sat between his legs lengthwise.

He put his other leg up on the couch so I was trapped between his thighs. ”Lean back.”

My heart slammed hard into my rib cage as I leaned against him, the heat of his chest instantly warming my back.

“Lift your leg.” I did and he moved it so it rested over his and even though I wore boxers, I felt completely exposed.

“Not fucking a girl who doesn’t want to be fucked. So, we’re not.” He leaned over and grabbed the controller and turned on the TV, flicking through channels until he found a late-night movie, an erotic late night movie. Jesus. He tossed the controller on the floor and I expected him to touch me.

He didn’t.

He did nothing. I lay with my legs slightly splayed, breasts naked, while he watched the movie.

He had one arm around on my abdomen, while one hand rested on my inner thigh, doing nothing. Not even a finger twitch. Nothing.

I lay stiff in his arms, his steady heart beating against my back and I listened to his calm, even breath, and on occasion, the mild chuckle when something funny happened in the movie. And the funny was some ridiculous bad acting. But I heard the moans. The slapping of naked bodies. The screams of pleasure.

I shifted uncomfortably as mild tingles between my legs became intense tingles.

His arm tightened. “Stay still.”

I did.

“Relax and watch the movie.”

How the fuck could I? I sat on my couch with parted legs, his hand inches away from my throbbing sex while we watched a porno. I was tense, confused and desire pulsated through my entire body. I kept thinking about him holding me in his arms after the fire, and how it had been gentle, caring. Protective.

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