Page 212 of Captive Ruin

His lips quirk, enjoying my playfulness. “Dates are back on the menu.”

“Good boy, one out of three.” I pat his chest, brush against his cock as I turn away. “I’m swimming now.”

His fingers hook into the straps of my swimsuit, stopping me. “First, I’m taking this.” He pulls them off my shoulders before I can react. I cover my chest in reflex, pinning the material, a flush burning my cheeks.

“Stop it,” I hiss. “There are windows everywhere. Tony and Jorge will see.”

His hands pause, lips curling in amusement. “It’s privacy glass. One-way.” His eyes go hard with that possessive look I know so well. “No one gets to see you naked except me.”

“Oh. You could’ve said.” I let my hands fall away.

He peels my suit down, taking his time. He just has to draw it out. I bite my lip, feeling my blush grow. He’s seen me naked so many times, but unwrapping me like this? So slowly? In the pool, of all places?

My breasts spill free, my nipples already two stiff peaks from our teasing, but he doesn’t look down, his gaze locked on mine. He draws the straps down my arms, then lowers to one knee. Only then do his eyes roam, and he places a kiss on one nipple. It aches for more, and I can’t help the small noise I let escape.

Lukas lowers further, the water covering his head, yet his lips still place kisses over my stomach. My suit is tugged down over my hips, and I grip his shoulder for balance, pulling one foot free and then the other, hurrying before he drowns.

He rises up, grinning adorably and holding my suit as a prize, then throws it to splat onto the side of the pool.

“You’re incorrigible,” I say, pressing close for another kiss. This one is much better than the first, and I rub myself against him as his hands cup my bare ass, pulling me against his hard cock.

I press my hips to his and arch my back, wanting to see his face for what I’m about to tell him. It’s been long enough; I want him to know. “Do you know why I let you do that?”

“Because swimming without a suit is more fun?”

“Well… yes.” He’s not wrong. I look up at him through my eyelashes. “But also… because I’m yours.”

He draws in a sharp breath, his arms tightening so hard around me that I know he’ll never let me go, and his steel-grey eyes darken. He gazes down at me, so many emotions crossing his face that I can’t name them.

I think I’ve stolen his voice, but then he clears his throat. “I was yours first,” he says huskily.

“Oh, is it a competition?” I tease.

“No,” he replies quite seriously. “Only the truth. I didn’t realize it until later, but the very first day I saw you… standing there, so brave, so fierce.”

My hand cups his jaw, my palm rubbing against his chin. “You loved me first, too,” I say, watching his expression as I pour all my heart into my words. “I may have been slow to realize it, but… I love you, and I want you to know it. I’m going to show you how much, every day.”

He shudders against me, and my gaze drops to the scar on his shoulder, a reminder of just how much he loves me, of what I almost lost. Pink and permanent, the shape of what love costs. I put it there, in a way—my captivity, my despair, the Volkovs coming for us both. I started it all, but he finished it.

“I have a lot to make up for,” I add softly. So much time wasted punishing him when I didn’t need to. I won’t make that mistake any longer.

“No, you don’t,” he says quickly, his eyes glistening as he stares at me with such intensity. His hand finds the nape of my neck, gripping hard, always making me feel so small. He takes a breath and lets it out slowly, as if trying to control himself, and that only excites me. Him? Losing control? Only I can make him do that, and it thrills me that I can. “You have nothing to prove. I’ve known you’ve loved me for a while now.”

That’s such a him reply.

“You did, huh?” I say, smiling as my tears threaten to spill. “Always so smug, Van Wyk.”

“Lukas,” he murmurs, and bends to kiss me.

This isn’t a gentle good morning kiss, but a hungry need to consume, and I meet it in the same way. He pulls me hard enough against him to make me gasp, and the feel of his body makes me moan my need into his mouth. His tongue plays with mine, our kiss deepening, and God I’m so ready for him to be inside me. I wish so much that he wasn’t injured. These weeks have been hell.

He doesn’t release his hold on my neck, but sweeps my swim cap off with his other hand and works my braid loose, letting it fall free. I flatten my palms against his chest, feeling his muscles and trailing my fingers lower to caress his abs.

He trails kisses across my jawline, down the side of my neck, and my eyes flutter closed. I don’t want the pool right now, I want our bed. We can be gentle, can’t we?

“Van Wyk,” I murmur. “Van Wyk, Van Wyk…”

“Lukas,” he growls, and nips at my throat.