Page 80 of Ruined By a Devil

“No,” Malachi’s jaw tightens, a flash of pride beaming in his green eyes. “Aside from telling them pretty graphically everything that they can shove in their ass, I didn’t give them a single goddamn syllable.”

“Of course you didn’t,” I give him a small smile, my hand reaching forward and landing on top of his.

He looks down at my hand and then back into my eyes as he continues. “Zeke finally found the place. He kicked the door in, put a bullet into the guard that was keeping an eye on me and took me out of there.”

“You’ve got such a big heart, Mal.” A sigh escapes as I gently caress his hand.

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for the people I love,” he says, his voice dropping low. “I knew there was a risk, and I would do it all over again in a heartbeat if that meant my family would remains safe and alive.”

I stand up from the sofa. “That’s why you have to be the one holding the leash and why you need to control every room you walk into… Because the one time you didn’t, you were chained to a wall.”

Malachi stares at me, his eyes narrowing. “Control is the only reason I survived that room, Jade. It’s the only reason I’m breathing right now.”

“I know, but survival isn’t the same as living, Mal,” I fire back, refusing to back down. “I understand the trauma and I have huge respect for what you did for your family. But please don’t try to lock me in because of it…”

He goes completely still, the sudden silence in the cabin almost deafening. He studies my face as if he’s expecting me to fight him or to pull away, but instead, I reach out grabbing the hem of his dark shirt and pulling it up over his head. After tossing his shirt onto the floor, I press my hands flat against his bare chest, feeling the fast thud of his heart against my palms. His skin is burning hot, sending a bolt of heat between my legs.

“Bedroom,” I tell him. “Now.”

A part of me expects him to argue or to do something unpredictable like he always does. But he doesn’t. Malachi gets up and follows me into the small, dark bedroom at the back of the cabin.

I push him down by his shoulders until the backs of his knees hit the edge of the bed, forcing him to sit down. He watches me, his green eyes dark and hyper-focused, tracking my hands as I reach for the hem of my shirt. I can see the strong urge in his shoulders, the instinct to reach out, grab my hips, and drag me down to the mattress where he dictates the terms.

“Lie back,” I say, my voice dead quiet in the cold room but he doesn’t move.

His jaw locks so hard the muscle ticks beneath his skin. But he exhales, a harsh breath through his nose, and forces his shoulders back until he lies flat against the duvet.

I strip my clothes off in the freezing air of the cabin, letting the clothes drop to the floorboards, before I crawl onto the bed. His eyes are wide with expectation as he watches me slide a knee on either side of his hips. The second my bare skin brushes his, his hands snap up, his strong fingers wrapping around my waist, a pure, lightning-fast reflex to anchor me and take the reins.

I grab his wrists, pushing his arms back, pressing his hands flat against the mattress on either side of his head. “Don't touch me. Let me do everything.”

Letting anyone pin his hands goes against every survival instinct he has left in his blood and I can see the fight in his eyes. He swallows hard, his large fingers curling into the fabric of the quilt, gripping the material so hard his knuckles turn bone-white, but he forces his hands to stay open and stays down.

I lift my hips and lower myself on his dick, taking it agonizingly slow. The friction is a heavy, burning ache that settles deep in my stomach, making my head spin instantly.

Malachi continues to breathe heavily, a rough sound scarping out of his chest as his hips buck upward in a desperate attempt to meet me, attempting to be the one who sets the rhythm. But I drop my hands onto his collarbones, using all my weight to force him back down flat.

“I said stay still,” I whisper, leaning in until my hair falls across his face.

He grits his teeth, his eyes burning with desire for control but he manages to remain put. I continue to ride him slowly, drawing out every millimeter while my inner walls adjust to his size. Watching the iron-clad control bleed right out of his face sets my blood on fire and I almost explode into an orgasm. His eyes are blown wide, the pupils swallowing the green, tracking every single breath I take as he lets me dictate the depth.

I lean down, pressing my mouth to the tense line of his jaw, tasting the salt and sweat on his skin. Once I’m comfortable enough and fully relaxed with him inside of me, I speed up, letting my hips snap down harder, chasing my own pleasure and taking exactly what I want from him.

But I push the boundary a little too hard and I watch how Malachi’s submission snaps entirely as his hands tear free and he grabs my hips with bruising, unforgiving force causing the room to spin.

Before I can even pull a breath into my lungs, my back slams hard into the mattress and his hips snap forward as he buries himself so deep inside of me, my breath punches out in a short gasp. There is no slow buildup anymore. He strips away every ounce of the control I just had in three hard, driving thrusts.

“Look at me,” he demands, the mattress dipping heavily under his weight.

My eyes snap open, meeting his as he is looming over me, his broad shoulders blocking out the dim light from the living room, trapping me completely in his shadow.

He shifts his grip, letting the heavy, warm weight of his palm press into my skin, his thumb resting dead center over my racing pulse.

“Tell me who this belongs to,” he says, dragging his hips back and forth again, hitting an angle so sharp it makes my back arch off the mattress.

“You,” I gasp, my nails digging blindly into the back of his hand. “You…”

“Say it right,” he stops moving completely, a devilish look in his eyes as he holds himself perfectly still, leaving me suspended, and my body physically aching for the friction.