“Off,” he orders.
I lift my arms, the guilt a steady drumbeat in the back of my skull. Marcus would hate me for this. But Sin’s mouth scorches its way down my skin as he peels the shirt away, and the guilt dissolves in a wave of fire. Then he grabs the hem of my yoga pants and panties at the same time and slides them off me so slowly, it makes my breathing quicken.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he says, voice raw. “So, fucking beautiful I could lose myself right here.”
I arch into him, torn between shame and want, grief and hunger. Maybe I am betraying my brother’s memory. Maybe I’m betraying myself. But as Sin’s mouth closes around my breast, tongue circling and sucking until I cry out, I know one truth I can’t escape.
I can’t stop.
I don’t want to stop.
“Spread those legs for me, wildcat,” he orders, voice rough velvet. “I want every inch of you open for my mouth.”
The command rolls through me like thunder, and I obey, trembling with anticipation. He settles between my thighs, the heat of his breath glimmers over my slick flesh.
The first stroke of his tongue is devastating. I cry out, my hips jerking upward, instinctively chasing more.
“Easy, baby,” he growls, gripping my thighs tightly, his fingers digging bruises into my skin. “I said, let me take care of you. You ride my tongue when I tell you, not before.”
His mouth returns to me, punishing and worshiping all at once. He devours me like a man starving, every stroke of his tongue deliberate, every flick designed to unravel me.
“Fuck, Elizabeth,” he murmurs against me, voice vibrating through my core. “This pussy tastes like heaven and sin wrapped together. You’re gonna drown me before I’m done with you.”
The words drag me closer to the edge, my body taut with need, my fists clutching the sheets until my knuckles ache.
Marcus would hate me for this.
He’d call me a traitor for letting my body answer to the man who might have ended him.
The thought slashes through me, but it’s useless—lust is winning, drowning all these thoughts out.
“Please,” I gasp, my body writhing beneath his hold. “Please, Sin, I need…”
His tongue swirls over me with maddening precision, his voice a growl of authority. “I know what you need, wildcat. When you come, you come only for me from now on, Elizabeth. Say it. Say that I own your pussy.”
“I-I…” My voice breaks, shame burning at the back of my throat even as fire roars low in my belly. “You own my pussy.”
“Good girl,” he rasps, and then he devours me in earnest. His tongue lashes me, sucking me into his mouth with ruthless skill. The vibration of his growl against me is my undoing.
I break with a cry, my body convulsing as pleasure rips through me like wildfire. I shatter, screaming his name, my vision blurring, tears spilling from the sheer intensity mixed with undeniable guilt.
But he doesn’t let up, dragging me higher, wringing me out until I’m gasping, begging, raw.
When I collapse back against the mattress, spent and trembling, he moves up my body with slow, claiming kisses. My skin feels scorched everywhere his mouth lands. Pantingfuriously, trying to catch my breath, I risk looking down at him. “That… was…” I try, but the words dissolve into breathless nonsense.
Desire floods me again, but before I can cling to him, he’s ripping himself away, his heat vanishing so suddenly it feels like a slap. He surges to his feet, pacing a few steps like a caged animal, dragging both hands through his disheveled hair. His chest heaves, muscles bunched tight, every line of him carved with tension.
The sudden loss makes me whimper, my body aching, desperate for more. “What’s wro—”
“I should go.” The words come out harsh, guttural, like they’ve been torn from his throat.
He won’t look at me.
His fists clench at his sides, knuckles white, and the storm in him is raging so fiercely it rattles the air between us.
My chest twists painfully. “Sin, talk to m-me?” My voice cracks with hurt, my arms instinctively wrapping around my torso as if I can shield myself from the hollow ache he leaves behind.
He spins toward the door, jaw locked, eyes flashing with a heat that’s equal parts hunger and fury. “Get some rest, Elizabeth. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.” His tone offers no argument, final and brutal. Then he yanks the door open and storms out, the slam reverberating through the walls, leaving me naked, shaking, and gutted.
