Page 44 of Ruin My Life (Blood & Betrayal #1)

Damon’s other hand slides up to my jaw, tipping my head back until our eyes lock in the mirror.

His gaze is molten—so dark it borders on black.

“Keep your eyes on me,” he murmurs, his breath ghosting over the shell of my ear.

I do as he says, watching the tension in his jaw as his fingers press lightly around my throat—just enough to claim me, not enough to control.

He pinches my nipple beneath my T-shirt, the sensation sharp and hot, perfectly timed with the slow drag of his hips as he glides his throbbing cock between my soaked folds.

My knees tremble. My whole body shakes with the weight of anticipation.

“Do you trust me, little rose ?” he asks, voice low and rough.

For once, I don’t think. I don’t second-guess.

The answer comes without resistance.

“Yes,” I breathe.

He lets go of my throat and slips both hands beneath the hem of my shirt. “Lift your arms.”

I do, even though they’re trembling.

The fabric brushes over my skin as he peels it off, leaving me fully exposed.

My breath stutters.

The moment my eyes reopen, they go straight to the scar across my chest—ugly, raised, unforgiving.

But Damon is already there, tilting my chin gently until my gaze finds his in the mirror again .

The head of his cock nudges my entrance, pulling my attention back to the way his body brackets mine, the way he watches me like I’m everything .

“Eyes on me,” he reminds firmly. “Let yourself let go. I’ve got you.”

And then he sinks into me.

The stretch makes me gasp—so full. So deep. So perfect .

His pace starts slow but purposeful, pulling back until just the tip remains before thrusting forward again, hard enough that the sound of our bodies meeting fills the room alongside my stifled moans.

Every time he bottoms out, his tip brushes that tender spot inside me that makes my vision blur at the edges.

His hand finds my scar again, fingers brushing over the raised lines like he’s reading a story written in my skin.

And maybe he is.

My skin blushes under his gaze, so hot for him in all the right ways.

“ Nada de lo que pudieras mostrarme me haría verte como algo menos que una hermosa guerrera, ”

he murmurs, lips brushing my ear.

I don’t understand the words, not exactly—but I know it’s something sweet with the way he kisses my neck afterward.

It makes my body clench around him so tightly that he groans, his hips stuttering for just a second.

“ Fuck . You feel so fucking good,” he growls, his teeth grazing the curve of my shoulder before sinking in just deep enough to leave their mark.

The sting only fuels the fire in my veins.

“I will live, fight, and die for this perfect pussy.”

“Oh my god ,” I moan, dizzy from the pressure coiling inside me, building toward detonation.

“That better be my new nickname, little rose ,” he grits, his thrusts turning rough and frenzied. “Because right now, I’m your only salvation.”

I swear —those words are gasoline on my fire.

My body snaps .

The orgasm tears through me like a tidal wave, wrecking everything in its path. I cry out, legs buckling, walls pulsing around him like I’m trying to keep him inside me forever.

He groans—low and guttural—before he spills inside me, filling me with his hot, sticky release until it drips down my inner thighs like warm honey.

His forehead drops to the curve of my spine. He’s still holding me, both of us panting like we might never breathe right again.

When he pulls out, our combined arousal trickles down my legs, making me shiver.

Then, a growl vibrates deep in his chest.

I watch his eyes through the mirror as he stares at my behind with a wicked grin.

“ Fuck . I thought you were beautiful before,” he rasps, tracing his palm up my inner thigh.

He gathers the cum trailing down my skin and pushes it back inside me with two fingers, making me gasp, my body twitching with overstimulation.

“But you look even better like this. Mine. ”

“ Damon …” My face flames.

He turns me gently until we’re chest to chest again, nothing between us but his thin cotton shirt and the kind of knowing that reaches deeper than anything I’ve ever let myself feel.

His other hand pushes the damp strands of hair away from my cheeks, his eyes soft and searching.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “Your bath is probably cold now.”

I only hum in response, barely able to process anything beyond the way he’s looking at me.

Like I’m something precious.

Like I’m wanted .

I stare up at him, and for a moment, I can’t help but wonder how we got here.

How I got here.

After everything I’ve done. After everything I’ve lost.

I never expected this .

Damon’s gaze doesn’t waver. His knuckles brush along my cheek, warm and grounding.

“You still with me, mi rosa ?” he whispers.

I lean into his hand, my eyes fluttering closed for just a second before I smile.

It's small, shy—but real.

It’s been so long since I’ve felt happy enough to smile—so long that I half expect the muscles in my face not to work anymore.

But it all comes so easily when I’m with him.