Page 207 of Sweet Ruin

“You’re so wet for me, baby,” he praises. “Such a dirty little baker. All that sweetness on the outside, and a soaking wet center just waiting for me on the inside.”

I arch my back as he laps at my clit in a slow pulse. His fingers cup my ass and pull me toward him, sliding just close enough to my other hole to make me tighten up with fear and anticipation.

The combination of the pressure and the suction builds heat through my nervous system. I’m shaking, my breath coming in ragged sobs.

“That’s it, Lilah. Let it out,” he encourages, looking up at me from between my thighs. “Show me that freak inside you. Stop being shy and tell me how much you want my cock.”

“I... I want it,” I sob, my hips bucking against his face. “Please, Kane, I want your cock inside me!”

“Come for me like a good girl and I’ll give it to you.”

Those words are the last straw.

I break open on his mouth, spasming like I’m being electrocuted as all the heat he stoked turns into fireworks.

Kane presses the heel of his hand against my clit to ground me as I flop and writhe. Then, once the peak has subsided, he stands up and looms over me.

“I’m going to stretch you out, Lilah,” he whispers, positioning himself between my thighs. “I’m going to fill every single corner of you.”

“Wait—!”

I roll to my side, open the nightstand drawer, and take out the condoms I bought on Friday. Kane smiles when he sees the unopened box.

“Prepared, I see.”

“More like I understand cause and effect. Just because I said I want to have sex with you doesn’t mean I want your babies.”

He holds out a hand. “As you wish, sladkaya.”

But I shake my head. “I want to do it.”

He lowers his hand.

I sit up on the edge of the bed. My knees are still shaking from what he just did to me, so it takes me a second to get the box open. The cardboard flap fights me. I tear it wrong and three of them come out in a strip and land on the comforter.

“Smooth,” I mutter.

“Take your time.”

Finally, I separate one and get the wrapper between my teeth because my fingers are damp. It rips open on the second try.

Then I look at him.

He’s standing right in front of me, close enough that if I leaned forward, he’d be against my mouth. Up close, he’s worse. Or better. I don’t know which word I want. He’s just so much bigger than anything I’ve dealt with before, and my brain keeps buffering unhelpfully.

“It’s not going to fit,” I say.

“It will.”

“You don’t know that. What if⁠—”

“It’ll fit,” he promises. “We’ll take our time and make sure of it.”

I wrap my hand around him. At the first touch of my fingertips, the air punches out of his mouth. His whole body tightens up and his hands curl into fists again.

I pump once, just to feel him jump against my palm. His stomach draws in, highlighting the sharp lines of his abs.

“Lilah.”