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Excerpt

He liked to be rough with women in bed, he knew that. He made it clear that’s what it involved if any woman wanted to be with him.

But this was next level. This was starting an ache within him that he knew he wouldn’t be able to relieve. It was exciting him.

And then she had done something that had completely knocked him down. She had reached a hand up, stroked him, sighed wantonly in his arms, then kissed him.

And his world had spiraled out of its axis and he’d found himself kissing her back. Touching her. Reaching down into her little panties and finding her core.

And fuck him, if she wasn’t all wet and ready for him. And he’d pushed, giving to her, reveling in giving, in her melting more and more into him, becoming a part of him, attaching herself to his heart and soul. Fuck it. And he’d pushed until she’d exploded.

He was right along with her, her spasming and gasping in his arms, he was so close, he was about to follow her into the cosmos, he was-

“Ardian!” She had spun around, gasped, and unmasked him.

And that was when something inside him snapped. He felt it. Something moved, and it could never move back again. He wasn’t sure yet if it was good or bad, but it was profound.

He cleared his throat. Unsure what to say, what to do. She continued to stare. Wide eyed, panting still after her orgasm. Hair all over the place.

He panted too, his hard-on refusing to bow out of the occasion, even though it was obvious relief would not be coming his way anytime soon. Fuck, the hard-on she’s been grinding her tight little butt into seconds ago. The hard-on he had wanted to slip inside that hot, warm little cunt of hers and pound her into the next fucking galaxy-

“Ardian, I… it’s, just I…” She stuttered, biting her lip, searching his face for an answer.

He didn’t have one. Fuck it, he had nothing. No explanation of that, no warning, no clue what had happened or what was coming next.

“Hreshtak,” he said with a hoarse voice. He called her the Armenian name for angel. It had started as a joke, it was meant to be ironic, because she wasn’t an angel, she was a bratty terror and Aridan was constantly tasked with cleaning up the maelstrom she left in her wake. But in that moment, it felt like she could be an angel, for him. He felt a funny, silly, almost drunk hope bubble up in him. His angel. She could be his angel. She was his.

But no, she could never be his. He was a low born servant to her family, basically. And he’d just betrayed them.

He was nothing and she was everything. He couldn’t ever let himself slip like that again. He would fight it, he would deny it, he felt the walls closing in. Even though they were outside, that panic welled up in him again. His breath whooshed out of his lungs as his panic attack took hold.

He tried to hide it, he turned away, head down, hiding in his head in his arms. He gasped for air, he was drowning in it all. The betrayal. He was such a traitor. He betrayed his family, he shot his own brother. He betrayed the Zakarian’s, the family that his father and his father before that had worked for.

And now he’d done something he shouldn’t have with the youngest daughter. He’d felt things he shouldn’t have. He’d touched her where he shouldn’t have. He’d let her in where he shouldn’t have. He hated himself. He didn’t hate her, he hated himself for letting her get to him, in whatever way she now had.

He was spiraling out of control and he had no idea how to pull up, how to maneuver out of the tail spin he was in. The nose dive. He gasped and gasped, and faced away from Pina and couldn’t bring himself to look at her, to imagine what she would be thinking.

Deep breaths. Deep. In and hold. And out. And in again. And hold again. And out. Slowly.

He did it again. Each breath lasted a second and a century at the same time. He felt the night return to him, the noises of people passing by further away, and cars, and music. He saw the streetlights now. He felt her. Watching him. Her face, unreadable.

“I’m taking you back home, Pina,” was all he managed to croak out of his sore throat.

But there was no coming back from this. He knew that. He would fight it, of course. Life was a fight and Ardian had always faced odds stacked against him. He couldn’t let any of this happen again. The panic attack, the kiss, fuck, the explosion of aches in his chest that he felt she left him with in her wake. None of it. And yet, he already knew, things couldn’t go back. He hated that he no longer hated her. He hated that she could never be his. 

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THE VOW

The Zakarian Syndicate - Book One

About the Author

Ruby Bloom writes gritty erotic romance about alpha males who love fiercely and roughly, and strong female characters who know what they want and aren't afraid to ask for it. She is an avid fan of romance books and always seeks that Happily Ever After.

She lives in the UK and works in the mental health field by day, and writes erotic romance by night!

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