RUTHLESS DEVOTION: THE EMPIRE BETWEEN US

SWEET TORMENT

Amilah stared at the man looming over her, her pulse hammering against her ribs. Her mind screamed at her to maintain her distance, but her body was a traitor, melting into his warmth. Involuntary, her fingers curled into the crisp fabric covering his muscular chest. Their eyes locked. Lowin's gaze darkened with a sudden, predatory hunger, but he forced the urge to pin her down back into the shadows. Catching her wrists in a gentle but unbreakable grip, he stopped her hands from wandering.

"As much as I want to devour you right now, you're still a patient, sweetheart," Lowin murmured, his voice a gravelly rough baritone. "We need to sleep."

Amilah bit her lower lip, a sharp flash of disappointment piercing through her. It irritated her how easily her body forgot the hospital walls, the IV lines, and his lies the moment he touched her. A heavy, maddening heat was already pooling deep in her lower abdomen. "What's wrong, Amy?" he asked, noting her sudden silence.

"It's nothing," she lied softly. "Where are you going to sleep?"

Instead of answering, Lowin shed his heavy suit jacket and unbuttoned his shirt, tossing them onto a nearby chair. He slid beneath the sterile white covers, his large, warmth-radiating frame instantly driving out the hospital chill. He pulled her flush against him. "The bed is big enough for both of us, little bird," he whispered, pressing a tender, lingering kiss to her forehead. "Good night."

Amilah's lips curved into a involuntary smile as his massive hands enveloped her waist, anchoring her against him. But sleep refused to come. Her mind swirled with the weight of her secrets, the baby growing inside her, his identity, and the terrifying realization that she was falling for him.

Restless, she shifted against him, her hips brushing his. Lowin's grip tightened, his voice dropping an octave into a dangerous warning. "If you keep moving like that, Amy, I'm going to take it as an invitation to do very bad things to you."

Amilah froze, but the warning sparked a wild, reckless idea. He thinks I'm too fragile to touch, she realized, a wicked thrill coursing through her wires. He won't dare cross that line while I'm a patient. I can use that to torment him for lying to me.

Lowin inhaled the sweet, familiar scent of her hair, finally feeling a sense of peace after a brutal day under the flashing lights of the police station. Having her in his arms was the only anchor he had left. But his peace was short-lived. Amilah rolled onto her side, facing him, her eyes gleaming with unspoken mischief. "Amy. Last warning," Lowin warned, his chest rising and falling heavily. "Stay still and sleep."

Instead of obeying, Amilah let out a soft, melodious giggle. She slid her hand flat against his bare chest, tracing slow, agonizingly deliberate circles down his burning skin toward his abdomen. Lowin's breath hitched violently in his throat. s**t, he cursed internally, his hand instantly clamping over her wrist to stop the descent. "You need to stop," he commanded, his eyes turning almost pitch-black with raw desire.

Amilah didn't shrink back. With a sudden burst of defiance, she wrenched her wrist free from his grip. She lifted her hand to his face, her soft fingertips tracing the sharp, tense line of his jaw before sliding into his hair. She leaned in until her lips brushed against his with feather-light friction.

"And why should I stop, Mr. Vance?" she whispered against his mouth, using the formal name like a weapon.

Lowin's dark brows snapped together at her sheer audacity. He couldn't take it anymore. Groaning, he captured her lips in a fierce, bruising kiss. He bit her lower lip gently before his tongue invaded her mouth, demanding, dominant, and consuming her warmth. Amilah didn't pull away; she met the kiss with an equal, desperate intensity that shocked them both.

Breaking the kiss just enough to breathe, Lowin rested his forehead against hers, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "My little bird is becoming quite the expert," he growled affectionately, trying to force himself to pull back.

"Amy, listen to me. Don't be stubborn. You're still recovering."

But Amilah had no intention of letting him off the hook. She could feel the thick, rigid length of his manhood pressing hard against her thigh through the fabric of their clothes. While his focus was entirely on his own internal battle for control, she slipped her hand beneath the sheets, her fingers finding the heavy metal buckle of his belt.

"Could you pass me my phone?" she asked innocently, her eyes wide and guileless.

Lowin blinked, thrown off by the sudden shift. "What do you need your phone for at this hour?"

"I just want to check the socials."

"Absolutely not, little-"

The rest of Lowin's words dissolved into a sharp, strangled gasp. Amilah's soft palm had slid inside his trousers, her fingers securely wrapping around his burning, rigid length. She leaned closer, intentionally pressing the soft fullness of her breasts flush against his bare chest as her hand began a slow, agonizingly perfect stroke down his length. Lowin's head snapped back against the pillows, his jaw clenched so hard the muscles popped. His breath came hot, fast, and sharp. This woman's stubbornness was going to be the death of him and she knew it.

Amilah watched his undoing with a sense of fierce satisfaction, determined to push him right to the edge of his limits.

Amilah accelerated the rhythm of her hand on his length, earning a deep, gravelly groan that vibrated straight through his chest. Leaning down, she pressed her lips to his collarbone, tracing a slow, warm line with her tongue right up to his jawline.

"Amy, please stop." he managed to choke out between ragged breaths, his fingers clutching the hospital sheets so tightly the fabric threatened to tear.

"I can't stop, Lowin," she whispered against his skin, her touch deliberate as she watched the effect she had on him. "I'm enjoying the look on your face way too much right now."

Hearing his name from her lips felt like a jolt of electricity straight to his core. He was losing his typical composure entirely. Amilah's free hand wandered over the firm lines of his chest and abdomen, the proximity causing his breath to hitch every time she moved closer.

Suddenly, Lowin opened his eyes, locking his gaze directly onto hers. They were filled with an untamed intensity that sent a rush of heat through her. Before she could break the contact, his hand moved to the back of her neck, gently but firmly drawing her face inches from his.

"I told you to stop," he growled, his voice low and strained. "I can't promise to stay in control anymore. I want you more than I can say."

Amilah bit her lower lip, her gaze dropping to his mouth. She shifted closer, the tension between them reaching a breaking point as she sat on his lap. Lowin's hands immediately found her waist, his grip tightening as his resistance finally gave way.

"Amy," he muttered, his jaw clenching with the effort of holding back. "You have no idea what you're doing to me".

"I know exactly what I'm doing," she whispered back.

Lowin reached out, his hand sliding beneath the fabric of her gown to rest against her skin. Amilah leaned down, her lips meeting his in a deep, desperate kiss as she moved with him, the friction between them igniting a fire that neither could extinguish.

Caught in the heat of the moment, Lowin focused entirely on her. His mouth moved from her lips to the curve of her neck, his touch becoming more urgent as the last of his restraint vanished.

The quiet of the VIP room was filled only with the sound of their shared breaths and the undeniable connection drawing them together. As the intensity peaked, Lowin took the lead, his movements driven by a sudden, powerful need. Amilah's soft whimpers were the final blow to Lowin's restraint.

The last of his ironclad discipline crumbled, buried beneath the long day of longing, the terror of almost losing her, and the intoxicating friction of her body against his. With a deep, guttural growl, he gripped her hips, his large hands anchoring her securely. He met her frantic rhythm with a powerful, driving pace of his own, lifting her effortlessly as the heat between them spiraled out of control. Every movement was thick with unexpressed emotion, his desperate need to claim her, and her fierce desire to make him feel the full weight of her presence.

Amilah arched her back, her fingers burying themselves into his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin as the pleasure became too sharp to bear. The sterile, quiet VIP ward was entirely forgotten, replaced by the heavy sound of their ragged breathing and the undeniable, blinding friction of their union.

She looked down at him, her vision blurring, seeing her own undone reflection in his dark, intense gaze. Lowin's breath hitched, the tension in his muscles tightening to a wire-snapping pitch. He surged upward, pulling her tight against his chest so their heartbeats hammered violently against one another. The world narrowed down to the searing heat where they connected, a crescendo of pure sensation that crashed over them both like a tidal wave.

Amilah gasped his name against his neck as a powerful shudder rippled through her body, triggering an answering wave of release in Lowin. He groaned deeply into her hair, his body locking as he gave in completely, spending the last of his control inside her safe haven. For a long, suspended moment, they clung to each other in the quiet aftermath, their skin damp, waiting for the room to stop spinning.

While the quiet sanctuary of the VIP ward felt safe, a far more dangerous storm was brewing across the city in Justin's penthouse.

"What do you mean Lowin was released?" Justin's voice was dangerously smooth, but his eyes flashed with cold rage.

He stared down at Victor, who had landed in the country barely an hour ago and was still wearing the exhaustion of the flight on his face.

Victor swallowed hard, adjusting his jacket. "Yes, Boss. Lowin is no longer at the precinct. They let him go. I don't know who pulled the strings, but he's out."

"f**k," Justin hissed, slamming his glass down on the mahogany desk. The amber liquid sloshed violently over the rim. He paced to the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out over the city lights. Lowin was supposed to be tied up in interrogation for days. "Just leave. Keep a tail on him and inform me of his every movement."

"Right away, Boss," Victor muttered. Feeling the heavy weight of jet lag crashing down on him, he bowed his head and retreated to the guest room to collapse.

Left alone in the dim glow of the office, Justin didn't waste a second. He pressed a button under his desk, summoning his most ruthless enforcer. Within moments, Jacob slipped into the room like a shadow.

Justin turned around, a dark, calculating smirk stretching across his face.

"Jacob, we move to Plan B," Justin commanded, his voice dropping into a sinister whisper. "We have to get that little bird of his. But we aren't going to hunt her down inside that hospital... We are going to let her come directly to us."