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A Ruthless kind of love Novel Cover

A Ruthless kind of love

Elena Marlowe is a quiet and gentle woman who never looked for trouble. But everything changes the night she meets Damien De Luca, a powerful Mafia boss known for being cold, arrogant, and ruthless. From the beginning, Damien wants her-and he always gets what he wants. At first, Elena is afraid of him, but as time passes, she sees another side of the man everyone fears. With her, Damien becomes softer, more human. And for the first time, he learns what it means to love. Their love is strong, but danger follows them everywhere. Friends turn into traitors, and even family members plot against them. Surrounded by lies and betrayal, Elena and Damien must fight for each other and for the life they dream of. This is a story of love and danger, of passion and betrayal-where even in the darkest world, love can change everything.
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Chapter 6

The ride home wasn't quiet. Not the stillness of a stormy, stagnant moment-no, this stillness crackled with electricity of a storm waiting to explode.

Elena sat stiff, her fists gripped in her lap, all of her muscles still thrumming with the kiss. The city lights flashed by, out the window, but she felt nothing but him-the weight of his body on hers, the heat of his body, the pressure of his lips on hers.

The car slowed down, and she flashed open her eyes. They weren't even close to her apartment.

"This isn't-

"My place," Damien growled, voice a low growl, no argument. He was standing by the door of her car with his palm upturned.

Her heart ran. All her cells wailed run. All her cells hummed stay.

And she did.

As soon as she entered, the mood shifted. His penthouse was tidy, spare, and breathtaking-city lights glinting like diamonds between windows floor to ceiling, shadows heaping in corners like secrets. It was a den, not a home.

And she had to deal with the wolf.

Damien closed the door behind her, the ring jingling, shuddering deep inside of her. She spun back to him, words trembling on her lips-questions, denials, something. But when their eyes met, her voice betrayed her.

He stepped between them with gentle ferocity, one hand cradling the curve of her jaw, his fingers lifting her face. "Tell me again," he whispered.

Her breath snagged. "Say what?"

"Want me."

Heat trickled down the sides of her face. She swallowed, almost nothing more than a breath. "I... want you."

That was all that was needed.

His mouth closed over hers before she could even force air into her lungs. Hard and hungry and bruising. His fingers roamed with the same ruthless confidence as his kiss-up the lines of her spine, around her waist, slamming her hand against him.

Her blouse dropped to the floor. His fingers toyed with buttons on her blouse, releasing them one maddening step at a time. By the last one, open, she drew in a gasp, her body on. fire.

His gaze dropped, hungrier, darker, then lifted again to hers. "Beautiful," he growled. Not nice, not sweet but truth. Does not have any cloth on and naked.

Her heart was heavily and continuous pounding clockwise.

And then his fingers fell to rest against her flesh, the warmth of his hands against the cold damp cotton of her bra, and shivers ran down the length of her back. She gasped into his mouth, curving her body to his caress, betraying her again.

"Damien..."

The vibrate of his name on her lips brought a growl from the very core of the center of his chest. He swept her up and drew her toward the huge leather couch, dropping her onto it with a finish unexplained and quick action which made her heart in shock state

He towered over her, pinning her down with his body, resting on her with his eyes. "No more lie, Elena. Beginning today, when I kiss you..." You'll be honest with me."

And then he claimed her.

His lips set fire to a trail along the curve of her neck, his fingers tracing her shape in pitiless detail. Every movement of his fingers gently bring new sounds from her throat, low feeble she could not contain. Her blouse slipped down from her shoulders, and she was almost naked in his sight, city lights shine her skin.

She ought to have him fight off. But she wanted it so badly and that scared her.

The kiss grew forceful, his mouth fighting hers, stealing air. His hand slid lower, claiming possession of lines she did not intend to yield, and the world was boiled down to nothing more than him-his scent, his warm, the impossible grip he had on her body and mind.

Every obstacle between them fell, plank by plank, until there was nothing to hide.

When the final space was crossed, it was as if a dam had been broken-weeks of tension, of fear, of denial spilling over in a holocaust of fire and surrender.

And when they'd finished, when her body lay limp against his, vibrating heavily and undone, Elena saw that she'd gone beyond a line she could not cross back over.

Damien leaned close, his lips brushing her ear, his voice a dark promise.

"You're mine now."

A shiver coursed through her. Not from fear. From the terrifying truth that he was right.

But down there, far below the glittering skyline, there was movement in the darkness. Somewhere in the black city, there were eyes waiting, watching. And Elena, blissfully unaware, had just pledged herself to the most lethal man of them all.

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