God of Ruin (Legacy of Gods #4) by Rina Kent

“Don’t. Your adorable fight turns me on, and that’s not a wise idea when I’m already bursting with unfulfilled energy.” He releases me and steps back. “Now, do as you promised. Run.”

“Go chase one of your other girls,” I sign with more energy than needed. “I’m too special to be lumped in with your side pieces.”

There, I said it.

Finally. The words I’ve been thinking about for days are out in the open. The ache I felt when I overheard him with that Nila. The absolute rage and pain I experienced when I saw him on the verge of kissing Cecily.

I wasn’t even supposed to be there, but one of Jeremy’s men called and told him that Landon was with Cecily. Jeremy had this terrifying expression when he left. My anger must’ve matched his when I hopped in my car and followed along.

An inexplicable urge flows through me. A rush that’s impossible to shake off or ignore.

And it goes by the name of Landon freaking King.

It doesn’t matter that I’ve been avoiding him. I’ve been thinking about him and his texts and his damn presence every second.

This is what it feels like to be addicted, doesn’t it?

But no matter how attracted I am to the slimy bastard, I’d cut off my own legs before I’d let him step all over me.

“Side piece?” He approaches me, his eyes darkening to the color of ravens and crows and expelling the same ominous energy.

He stops in front of me and lifts my chin with his curled forefinger. “I can sleep with anyone on this planet. Hell, I have an extensive repertoire of women begging to suck my cock if I were to so much as look in their direction. But I don’t even acknowledge their existence. These lips are the only lips I want to be wrapped around my cock. This face is the only face I want to be marked with my cum. You think I would put all this effort into someone as difficult as you if you were only a side piece?”

“You won’t touch anyone but me.” Not a question, but a demand.

And yet he answers, “I won’t.”

Simply. Without any of his infuriating conditions, bets, or ultimatums.

“You won’t touch anyone but me either, or we’ll have a very serious, very bloody problem.”

“Stop being so psychotic.”

“Stop being so cute.”

My mouth falls open and the skin he touches explodes in a thousand tingles. I sink my teeth into the cushion of my bottom lip in a hopeless attempt to control my reaction.

His weird acceptance of the situation is enough to wash away the doubts I’ve been drowning in for the past few days.

It’s enough to fill my muscles with a foreign need. A need so empowering, it hums beneath the flesh.

Landon leans forward and whispers in dark words against the shell of my ear, “Run, little muse and run as fast you can. Tonight, I’ll fuck all the other cocks out of your memory.”

He doesn’t need to tell me twice.

The moment he releases me, I speed inside the house. Despite it being dimly lit, some yellow bulbs cast shadows on the worn-out sofa, the chairs, and the unfinished chess game we were playing the last time I was here.

Landon’s steps ring right behind me, sure and unhurried, as if he knows he will catch me. I quicken my movements and rush to the highest floor. I hop on one of the ruined steps, but a strong grip catches my ankle.

I gasp as I stare behind me.

Landon looks like a devil in the darkness, complete with imaginary horns and a hellfire agenda. “The same trick won’t work twice.”

I try to kick him away, but he tugs me down so hard, I yelp as the world is pulled from underneath me. Before I hit the ground, Landon reaches for my waist, but I slip past his grip and hop away at the last second.

I run down the hall at full speed. Landon’s heavy steps follow me in no time. My heart races and my temperature rises until I’m delirious.

A startled sound leaves my lips when I hear his breathing, but I don’t look back.

Excitement and thrill intertwine and grab me by the throat. Every fiber inside me hums to life the faster I run and the longer I hear the creak of his steps behind me.

I descend the stairs three at a time and skip a few, then hold on to the railing when I nearly fall. I slip into his art studio and hide behind one of his unfinished statues. He stands in front of it.

Our chests rise and fall in a frantic rhythm, but while I’m struggling for breath, Landon has a hand in his pocket.

“Give up, little muse. Your cunt is mine to fuck. Mine to own. The sooner you accept that reality, the better.”

In a flash, I make for the right, then change direction to the left. Landon does the exact same. I release a gleeful sound as he catches a few of my ribbons, pulling them free from my hair.

The statue rattles on its base as I push past it and run to the balcony attached to the studio. I realize my mistake the moment the floor creaks beneath my boots.

I’m trapped.

I turn around to escape in the opposite direction, but Landon’s already blocking the entrance.

He grabs the top chipped frame of the balcony door. His shirt rides up, revealing a hint of his hard abs and the fine hairs perfectly positioned in the middle of his glorious V-line.

His mocking, slightly raspy voice comes from behind me. “Someone is trapped.”

Not yet.

I climb up on the unsteady railing, but before I can jump down from it, I’m greeted by the sight of thorny bushes.