Page 128 of Ruthless Touch

We move as one, rocking our bodies.

“Look at me,” I demand. “Fucking look at me as you come.”

Our gaze holds, telling me I’m the only thing keeping her tethered to this world.

Her pussy ripples around me, pulsing in slick waves as she comes. Her thighs start to quiver and her mouth falls open for the little cry she releases.

I come with her, hips jerking, cock buried deep. My release tears through me, blinding and raw. I hold her so tight her pounding heartbeat matches mine.

We both ride it out, every tremor and aftershock ringing through us.

When we finally collapse, tangled and panting, her body draped over mine, I press a kiss to her bare shoulder.

“I love you,” she whispers into the darkness.

I hold her close, running my hand over her back. “I love you too, Goyangi-ne.”

She smiles against my skin. “You’re never going to stop calling me that, are you?”

“Never. It fits you so well. My sexy feline assassin that tried to kill me but ended up in my bed instead.”

This time she laughs, smacking my arm and then only snuggling closer in the end.

We lie in together, listening to the waves and each other’s heartbeats. For the first time in my life, I’m not calculating my next move, not watching for threats or planning three steps ahead.

I’m here, present in this moment, with the woman who somehow has become my everything.

TWENTY-EIGHT

ELISE

TWO WEEKS LATER…

The city unravelsbefore us as Gun navigates the evening traffic, familiar Seoul landmarks sliding past my window like scenes from a movie I’ve watched a hundred times. The Han River glitters under the setting sun, office buildings stacked like dominoes against the skyline, neon signs already beginning their nightly performance.

I lean my head against the cool glass, sunglasses perched on my nose even though the light is fading. My duffel bag sits at my feet, still smelling vaguely of saltwater and sunscreen.

Two weeks of beach living will do that to you.

Gun’s hands are relaxed on the steering wheel, one arm draped casually as he merges lanes like he knows these streets like the back of his hand. He’s wearing a plain black t-shirt and jeans, his hair tousled and windswept.

He looks good. Sexier and more attractive than ever.

But also rested. Different from the man who fled the city with me in a haze of blood and chaos.

We both do.

We needed the time away more than we realized.

The silence between us is comfortable after what we’ve been through. Any tension or unspoken accusations have vanished.

Only the hum from the engine and the distant sounds of the city fill the silence between us.

We’ve been through so much together that there’s an implicit trust now.

I trust him with my life, and he feels the same.

It’s something brand new for me, someone who’s always pushed everyone around me away…