Page 25 of Ruin

My voice came out harsher than I intended, and I gulped and tried to get myself under control. This wasn’t the tine to take my anger and frustration and fear out on him.

But he shook his head sharply and got even closer to me. “I’m not talking about Devil,” he growled. “I’m talking about myself.”

My brain stuttered to a stop, completely confused at what he’d just said. What was he talking about? Devil was the one who had caused this. Knight himself had told me so at least twice, and probably more. And now suddenly he was trying to take the blame himself?

Why?

“That doesn’t make any sense,” I said sharply. “What are you even talking about? You didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t make any of the wrong choices. You didn’t—”

His hand came down again, even harder this time, and I shut my mouth.

“Didn’t I? Didn’t I choose to bring you home with me? Didn’t I choose to keep you, and damn the consequences? I took you to my bed and made you mine, and then I decided to keep you, regardless of the trouble it might bring. I laughed in Devil’s face when he demanded to have you back, told him through my actions that he didn’t have the right. Fuck, I set Tinker up, Saraya. I created the situation that got him kidnapped! And then I took Mandy right into a situation where she got arrested. Left most of my men there for the police to find. Fuck, none of this would have happened if it weren’t for the decisions I made!”

His voice, which had started softly, was now shouting, his voice breaking on every other word with the emotion bleeding through, and I nearly cried out to get him to stop saying things like those.

“I did this,” he finished brokenly. “I led my men right to the slaughter. And I’m going to fucking bring them home again, no matter what it takes. I’m going to save them and keep you safe from that bastard if it’s the last thing I do.”

The last sentence was full of grim violence and determination, strength replacing the despair I’d heard only moments before.

And the thought of him hurting so badly for his men, and then coming back to say that he was going to save every person he could—including me—had an effect on me that I never would have expected.

I stripped him of the shirt he still had on, jerked at the material until he took the hint and helped me get it off, and then shoved him into the shower. I followed him, not caring that I still had jeans and a T-shirt on. I wanted to be close to him. I wanted to feel him against me, warm and alive and wanting me.

“This is no more your fault than it is mine,” I whispered, reaching down between us to take his cock in my hand. I slid my hand up and down his length, once, watching his pupils dilate in sudden realization.

And lust.

He gasped and jerked, then covered my hand with his own and squeezed, forcing my fingers harder around him.

The man was hard as steel already, and I gasped in return, heat flooding my body at the realization that he was as turned on as I was.

Then he started forcing my hand up and down on his cock, sliding it faster and harder with each stroke until his hips were jerking against me in need. He blew out a hard breath and released himself, throwing my hand back at me.

“Get your clothes off,” he growled.

I looked down, took in the soaking wet jeans and shirt, and started struggling with them, trying to get out of the soaked denim. It was impossible, though, and Knight had no patience for watching. He spun me around to face the wall of the shower, put his hands to the waistband of the jeans, and jerked them down over my hips. They fell to my feet a moment later.

“Get them off.” His voice was low and dangerous in my ear, and I arched my back involuntarily. It should have been intimidating, or even scary. Should have had me running and screaming with fear at the sound of violence in his voice.

Instead, it had me squirming, on the edge of moaning with need.

I stepped out of the jeans and used my foot to throw them to the side. Knight turned me again, his hands rough with need, and looked down at my T-shirt. Taking it in his hands, he ripped it clean down the middle, dropping it to the floor and leaving me in nothing but black lace bra and panties.

“Off,” he snapped. “I want you naked in front of me.”

I didn’t argue. Fuck, I didn’t even think twice about it. I wanted him so badly that my entire body was aching with it, and that didn’t leave room for thought.

It barely even left room for my brain to function at all.

I managed to unhook my bra and get it off, though, and Knight himself took care of my panties, sliding his fingers into the elastic band and slipping them down over my ass and to the floor.

The possessiveness of it, the assumption that he could do whatever he wanted with me, took my breath away. This man was everything, I thought. Kind enough to take me in when I needed him, brave and strong enough to be my hero and my shield, and yet demanding enough to act like he possessed me, heart and soul.

His eyes were burning with the thought now, and I realized that this might be a very big mistake. I didn’t know if I should let myself fall this deeply for him, or if it was safe to lose my head like this. We were in a dangerous situation, one of our friends already dead, and for all we knew, there were men out there in the driveway loading their guns with bullets that had our names on them.

We should really be—

He shoved his knee between my legs and forced me to open up for him, then gave me a sly, unrepentant grin and slid his fingers into my heat, curling one up to brush my clit on the way by while his other hand forced me against the wall and held me there.