Page 43 of Ruined By a Devil

Jade looks up at me, her breathing shallow and her eyes wide open with a mix of raw desire and a sudden panic as she feels the sheer size and weight of me against her virgin skin. She goes slightly rigid beneath me and I freeze.

The heat in my head clears just enough for me to see her face. There is no doubt that she wants me, her body is dripping for me, but she’s overwhelmed, terrified, and I don’t think she’s ready for what taking me would actually mean. If I push through now, I’ll ruin her. I’ll become just another man who took what he wanted from her without her complete, conscious choice.

So I pull back, sliding off her, and stepping away from the bed. My cock is aching and heavy, and my breathing harsh as I tuck myself back into my pants and zip them up. I notice Jade sit up quickly, pulling the top sheet over her naked body, her dark eyes filled with sudden frustration and confusion.

“Why did you stop?” She asks.

“Because you're not ready,” I look down at her. “And when I take your innocence, Jade, it won't be because you were overwhelmed by a toy. It will be because you walked into this bed knowing exactly what you were agreeing to, and asking for every inch of me.”

She continues staring at me, her lips parted, unable to find a single sharp comeback.

“Get dressed and go to your room,” I tell her smoothly, turning my back on her as I pick up my drink from the dresser. “We train again tomorrow.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

Jade

My muscles still ache from his fingers deep inside me, but it’s the phantom pulse between my thighs that still lingers around that wakes me with the sunrise.

As I lay in the dark, I stare up at the ceiling and the early morning light coming through the curtains, my legs tangled in the heavy sheets. My pussy is still swollen after last night.

I trace my tongue over my lower lip, half-expecting to taste him, my mind replaying the blurred memory of last night. The dark bullet vibrating against my clit. The way he made me beg. The shattering crash of an orgasm that tore through me while he swallowed my cries.

And then... he stopped.

Frustration and embarrassment spread through my body. Men have spent years looking at me like something to possess. Yet, Malachi had me naked, dripping, and shaking on his bed, completely at his mercy, and he simply chose not to take me.

As I throw off the covers, my pussy throbs with the familiar ache, completely betraying me.

I want him.

The realization makes my stomach drop, but I can’t pretend otherwise anymore. Besides, who wouldn’t want him? He’s like some sorts of an Adonis, any straight woman would go crazy living with him. Or at least, that’s what I tell myself.

I dress in a white silk blouse and dark trousers, pulling my hair into a tight ponytail as I prepare myself for the teasing and the arrogance he’s bound to wear like a badge this morning.

When I step into the sunlit kitchen, I find him standing near the marble counter, dressed in a tailored suit jacket and a dark shirt. He’s holding a tablet, casually reading through documents, a cup of black coffee in his hand.

Beside him on the island sits a second cup, and I don’t need to guess what’s in it.

“Good morning,” he says without looking up from the screen. His voice is completely normal and composed. I freeze for a split second, waiting for the punchline.

Nothing. He takes a sip of his coffee, turns a page on the screen, and continues reading as if last night never happened. As if he didn't have his tongue between my legs only a few hours ago.

I can’t help but feel irritated by his indifference. It feels like a slap to the face, making my pride prickle until I can barely stand the quiet hum of the refrigerator. I walk up to the island, picking up the hot porcelain mug. The rich scent fills the air, but I barely register it.

“Is this part of the agreement too?” I ask, my voice sharper than I intended. “Pretending you didn't have me screaming on your bed last night?”

Malachi slowly lowers the tablet onto the counter and turns his head to face me, his eyes locking onto mine with alarming clarity. There’s no trace of mock surprise or amusement. Just that unreadable, strategic calm that usually makes men twice his size back out of a room. All it does with me is ruin my underwear.

“What would you like me to say, Jade?”

“Do you regret it?” I demand, stepping closer, refusing to let him retreat behind his usual cold wall. “Do you regret stopping?”

I can’t believe the words left my mouth and I want to punch myself for saying it out loud but I feel like I’m starting to lose my mind and it’s only getting worse every time he’s anywhere near me. And after last night? I’m going to have nightmares about him fucking me. Though nightmares isn’t exactly the right word to describe a desired dream. It’s the reality that hits me when I open my eyes that feels more like a nightmare.

Malachi takes a step toward me, his large frame blocking out the sunlight behind him. The subtle scent of his body instantly make my thighs clench together.

“Do you think stopping was easy for me?” He asks quietly, his voice dropping into that low register that does things to me.