Guilt her husband stole when he lowered his head and sucked a nipple deep into his mouth. The wet heat and suction thieved her capacity for thought. He caught her in his teeth and tugged, always knowing what she wanted, what she needed, before she did. Her hands sank into his thick, luxurious hair. She felt giddy, as if she had consumed too much wine, as if her head were floating somewhere above her body.
His finger trailed down her belly next, circled her navel. Then traveled lower. Over her mound. Finding that hungry bundle of flesh with expert precision. She jerked into his touch, gasping, arching. Her knees threatened to give out. She did not care. Everything was alive. All her senses. Her lungs were filled with him. Her body was his to play with as he liked. And she was weak, so weak for him. So hungry for him. The salty taste of him was still in her mouth, and she wanted more.
She was a sinner tonight, willing and ready and his.
His finger teased her, working over her hungry flesh. And then he skimmed over her seam, finding her entrance and sliding inside. Deep. This time, her knees truly did buckle. He caught her against him, his finger still buried within her.
And then, his mouth was on hers. He kissed her hard. Punishing. Voraciously. Deliciously. His tongue slid inside to the rhythm of his strokes, in and out. She whimpered into that kiss, need pulsing to life. She was trembling. On the edge. Desperate for his claiming.
He withdrew his finger and moved them across the study without breaking the kiss. Suddenly, she found herself sprawling into a chair. Sin was right there with her. He kissed down her throat, over her breasts and belly, and then sank to his knees between her legs.
She had a moment to realize he was still fully clothed while she was naked before he dipped his head and flicked his tongue over her pearl. Pure sensation rocketed through her. Callie forgot to care about her nudity. He licked her slowly, leisurely. Lightly.
“You taste so sweet,” he told her, his breath hot against her core.
His hands were on her inner thighs, caressing, spreading her wider. His tongue tortured her some more, until she moaned and shifted closer, seeking increased pressure. Still, he tormented her with soft flutters that made desire coil deep within her.
“Keep your eyes on me,” he commanded, before sucking on the tender bud of her sex.
How could she look away?
The sight of this beautiful man on his knees before her, his mouth on her most sensitive, intimate flesh, was unbearably erotic. She held his gaze, watching him pleasure her.
The most astonishing realization hit her, walloping her with the profundity of it.
Dear God, she could love him.
There was every possibility she was already falling in love with Sin.
Heaven help her.
He was inlove with his wife’s cunny.
With the breathy little mewls she made when he licked her.
With the way she rocked against his face, practically begging him to fuck her with his tongue.
He had told himself that he was growing far too attached to her. That his fascination for her would wane. He had convinced himself to keep his distance this evening, needing some time to puzzle through what had happened between them earlier.
But all it had taken was the sight of her standing in his study, wearing that innocent-looking dressing gown with its endless line of buttons and frothy lace at her throat, her magnificent hair cascading down her back, and he had been helpless to resist her. She entranced him. Seduced him with a mere look.
And she was looking at him now. Watching him as he pleasured her. Her lips were swollen and parted, her breasts thrust forward like ripe offerings. She was pale and glorious and he had never wanted to bed a woman more in his life.
First, however, he would give her what she wanted. Sin ran his tongue down her folds, then licked into her. She jerked, quivering beneath him. She was already close. Good. He wanted her close. He wanted her mindless and wild and uncontrolled. He wanted her in a frenzy.
In and out, he slid, holding her dark gaze, delving into her hot wetness. Then, he returned to her pearl, sucking hard while he slid two fingers inside her channel. She was perfection, gripping his fingers, dragging him deep, so slick.
“I want you to come for me,” he whispered against her core. “Fly for me, darling.”
On a keening moan, she did as he asked, tightening on his fingers in a wave of spasms as he nibbled on her swollen clitoris. Her hands were in his hair, caressing. He waited until the last ripples of her pinnacle ended to slide his fingers from her and replace them with his tongue. Slowly, still holding her gaze, he lapped up all her cream. He inhaled her sweet, musky scent, savoring this connection.
Savoring her.
He could not get enough.
Still fucking her with his tongue, he switched positions, using his fingers to swirl over her pearl in hard, fast circles. He wanted her to come again. And again. And again. And just when neither of them could bear another second of waiting, he wanted to slam his cock inside her.
The thought made his ballocks tighten and his prick twitch, reminding him he was still fully clothed whilst she was beautifully nude. In his need to feast upon her, he had neglected to remove any of his own attire. That could be rectified soon enough. And hell, he was not even certain he cared. As long as he could get his cock inside her, that was all that mattered.
