Page 210 of Sweet Ruin

I have another soft, gushing orgasm. While I’m still twitching with the aftershocks, he pushes me onto my knees, rips off the condom, and stands over me. I don’t know how he’s still hard after so much sex, but he hasn’t lost a single bit of tension. If anything, he’s harder.

“Clean me, Lilah,” he commands.

I hesitate for a split second, the old shyness flickering, but then I look at his eyes—the obsession, the desire, the absolute certainty that I belong to him.

I crawl toward him on my hands and knees, my heavy breasts swaying. I wrap my lips around the head of his cock, tasting the salt and the musk of our previous rounds.

I use my tongue to swirl around the rim, then slide him deep into my throat. I gag slightly and my eyes water, but I don’t pull away.

I want to please him.

I want to show him that I can be whatever he wants.

Kane groans, his hand gripping the back of my head, guiding my rhythm. “Yes... just like that. Take it all, you beautiful little thing.”

He follows me to the floor, pinning me on my back and fucking me one last time.

I’m no longer the shy baker.

I’m a woman possessed, screaming, clawing at his back, begging for every inch of him.

When the final climax hits, it’s explosive. We both collapse onto the tile as the shower rains around us, drenched in sweat and fluids, breathing hard.

After a moment, Kane pulls me into his chest and kisses the top of my head. “I thought I knew how sweet you’d be,” he rasps. “I wasn’t even close to right.”

We lie there for a while. Eventually, Kane reaches up to shut off the showerhead, then swaddles me in two towels and carries me back to the bed.

I’m limp and unresisting. He could stuff me into a cannon and fire me off like a circus stuntwoman and I wouldn’t even emit a word of protest right now.

But he just tucks me into bed, extinguishes the lamp, then slips away into the darkness to step back into his clothes.

I’m too tired to make my mouth move, which is maybe a good thing. Because if I could speak, I might ask him to stay.

And I think we both know that would be too much.

I hear him moving around in the dark. A belt buckle. The rustle of his shirt. The soft clink of his rings going back on one at a time.

I don’t open my eyes. I’m not asleep, either. I’m somewhere in between, floating, my body heavy in a way I don’t think I’ve ever felt.

The mattress dips near my hip. His hand comes down on my hair and stays there for a second. He leans down and kisses my temple, and then his weight lifts off the bed and the floorboard by the closet creaks and he’s gone.

Footsteps on the stairs.

Front door opens, closes.

The deadbolt turns with a key I didn’t know he had.

A car engine.

Then silence.

I lie there in the dark with my hair still damp and my legs still shaking. I could sleep for twenty-four hours if the world would let me. Maybe I will.

I’m sliding under when my phone vibrates on the nightstand.

I almost let it go. But something tells me I should check it.

I reach out, unlock it, and find two messages. Both from Kane.