God of Ruin (Legacy of Gods, #4)(101)

My back hits the table, on top of which an assortment of Landon’s equipment clatter due to the impact.

I flinch and choke on my irregular breaths. The air around me seems to have plunged into a well of suffocating tension I can’t breathe through.

“You don’t seem to have grasped the situation, Mia. Just because I give you space and make unneeded truces for your sake doesn’t mean you can go to someone else. If you’re mine, that’s what you’ll always be. Fucking. Mine.” His other hand reaches to the zipper of my dress and he pulls it down until the cloth pools at my feet.

The night air tightens my bare nipples and naked pussy. My cheeks heat as Landon takes in the entirety of me. Lust mixes with rage in an unholy reunion, hinting at a war that’s about to blaze through.

“You’ve come prepared.” His voice drops, mixed with angry arousal. “Or was this view perhaps meant for someone else?”

I shake my head. How can he think that?

Yes. I expected something tonight, which is why I didn’t put on any underwear, but that plan is obviously being decimated before my eyes.

“No?” He reaches between my legs, cupping the arousal that’s been coating my inner thighs since his lips met my neck.

It’s part of the reason why I didn’t fight. Why I still refuse to fight. I can finally admit that I’m as crazy as Landon, because every inch of me throbs at the prospect of being manhandled.

He strokes my folds with gentle hands and I get on my tiptoes, chasing the spark of pleasure that spreads between my legs and tightens my belly.

“You’re soaking my fingers, Mia. Are you that horny for my fingers and cock?”

I suppress a moan as I stare into his impassive eyes. Anger still rages deep in them, black and encompassing me like a second skin.

But what’s troubling me the most is how he keeps calling me by my first name. There’s no little muse or any of his affectionate terms that he tailor-made for me.

“Were you also this aroused when that twat touched you? Did you moan and show him your sexy little face that should only belong to me? Did his putrid eyes see this version where you’re fighting so hard to hide how much you’re yearning to be fucked?”

My stomach dips and I clutch the edge of the table for support. His words leave me hotter and more sensitive so that I only need a little push to come.

“But that won’t be possible now, because guess what? Rory will be removing himself from this island effective immediately.”

My eyes widen, then zero in on the blood on his collar. So my hunch was right. That definitely was because of Rory.

“I taught him a little lesson that included punching the eyes he looked at what belongs to me with, then I split the lips he put on my throat. Then finally, as he begged like a little bitch, I broke the arm he used to touch what’s fucking mine. But that’s not how his miserable story comes to an end. Far from it. See, I made it my mission to gather information that even he wasn’t aware of and I will use it to destroy him inch by each fucking inch. In fact, I’ll be there as he inevitably overdoses and my apathetic eyes will be the last he sees. As he spits out his last breaths, he’ll know messing with what’s mine was the worst mistake of his meaningless life.” He slaps my pussy and I yelp as the throbbing pain spreads over my core and clenches my belly.

“Why would you do that?” I sign weakly.

“If it’s not clear yet. I’m into you, Mia, and that’s a very long-term commitment. I’ll protect you, but I’ll always keep an eye on you so no one else fancies what’s mine. You’ll never, ever, let anyone get close.”

He releases my throat and pussy. An unsatisfied groan spills from my lips, but it ends with a yelp as he pushes all the equipment off the table with a single sweep, sending it crashing to the ground. Then he lifts me up with both hands.

My ass touches the cold table, but that’s the last thing on my mind as Landon rips his shirt down the middle, sending buttons flying everywhere.

My mouth waters upon seeing his chiseled abs and a hint of the snake tattoos peeking out from the slope of his muscular shoulder and side.

As I stare at the trail of fine hair leading to beneath his clothes, Landon’s fiery eyes remain on me as he unhooks his belt and unzips his pants. He kicks them away and straps the leather around my neck.

My throat throbs, but it’s not due to the pain. In fact, there’s something reassuring about this position.

The belt remains hanging around my neck as Landon reaches for a bucket beside us, and I watch with utter fascination as he removes the lid and splashes me with the cold liquid.

I’m stunned.

Completely and utterly taken aback by the action. I can only watch as the oily-like liquid soaks my face, clings to my eyelashes, and slithers down the rest of my body before dripping on the floor.

Before I can ask what the hell this is, Lan pulls me by the belt so that I’m on the edge of the table and then swipes his thumb along my lower lip.

His mouth is a breath away from mine as he whispers hot, low words, “You look like my favorite masterpiece.”

A shudder leaves me when his lips crush against mine, claiming me in a ferocious kiss that tastes of oily liquid and blinding possessiveness.

I can’t help but kiss him back, my body falling for the spell of his intensity, the taste of his unforgivable lips and his unapologetic touch.