With those words, his mouth descends onto my pussy, his tongue stroking over my clit and robbing me of every logical thought. He devours me like a man starved, and a burning need courses through me as he hauls my hips up further so that my thighs rest on his shoulders.
“You taste so fucking good.” His tone is low, making the coil of pleasure in my core tighten even further.
“Please, Sin,” I beg, and he sucks on my sensitive bundle of nerves.
“What do you need?” he asks against my slit.
“You. Fuck me, please.” I beg, and Sin’s eyes flare wide, his grip on me tightening.
“Fuck, kitten,” he groans, and I arch up to feel more of him. He responds by burying his face into my pussy, his tongue sweeping inside of me. My orgasm doesn’t flow through me; it crashes into me, and I scream Sin’s name with every wave. Still, he doesn’t relent, sucking and licking me until I’m shivering beneath him. When he finally comes up for air, his pupils are blown, and he looks like his control is hanging on by a thread.
I’ve never wanted to snap a thread so badly in my life.
Untangling from Sin, I reach up to start stripping him. But he pins my hands over my head, stopping me. “Kitten,” he warns, and the hunger in his voice has me arching into him.
“Iwantyou,” I demand.
Sin takes a shuddering breath but doesn’t release me. “I want you coming on my cock more than I want my next breath. But if I fuck you, there’s no coming back. You’ll belong to me in every fucking sense of the word. So, unless you’re sure that’s what you want, then we need to stop.”
Chapter 35
Rule thirty-five:Say no to therapy.
Being almost naked and pinned beneath a very attractive man who just noted that he willnotbe fucking me unless I want to be fully tied to him is totally okay. In fact, it really fits the train-wreck vibe that my emotional health has taken on lately.
At my hesitation, Sin releases me, his gaze dragging over my body once more, before he locks the desire back down and turns to find my clothes. My cheeks flush and I can’t stop the embarrassment that sets in, knowing he has every ability to make me lose control, but I clearly am lacking in that department.
“Kitten…” he starts.
“It’s okay. Really. I’m fine,” I answer, dressing as quickly as possible.
Logically, I know my frustration is immature. I should be happy that Sin was honest with me aboutwhere sex between us would lead. But the multitude of emotions I’m trying to process aren’t leaving me feeling too logical right about now.
This isn’t just sex. I’m not the only one who’s worried about getting attached.
At least now I know what Sin meant when he said he was fighting for whatever is between us.
He wants me, all of me.
What is the opposite of a silver lining? Because now, I’m not only anxious, but I’m also terrified. How quickly will he change his mind when he realizes I’m not worth keeping?
The thought has my chest constricting, and I shove it back down with my other repressed emotions.
“How often do you do that?” Sin asks, and my head snaps up, realizing he’s been watching me like a hawk.
“What?”
“Shut down your emotions. You were clearly very upset about something, and then it disappeared like it never existed at all,” Sin clarifies, his head slightly tilted as he takes me in.
My cheeks burn from embarrassment, and Sin only tilts his head, his expression calculating. I swallow, realizing that this admission may very well be what changes his mind about wanting me. After all, who could ever want a shell?
Because it’s not just the trauma I repress. For as long as I can remember, I’ve pushed down any emotion that could result in conflict. Every time I’ve needed to interact with people, it’s been done with carefully crafted words to ensure we would never fight.After all, it was drilled into me that I couldn’t win. That my feelings were irrational or irrelevant and that if I did enter into conflict, I’d come out hurt. And the worst part is, I recognize that it’s made me a shell of a person. No matter how often I’ve tried to convince myself that I’m just an introvert or shy, I know the truth.
I’m a coward.
I sigh, resigned. It’s better for him to hear it now rather than to let him keep thinking he wants me. “I – I do this thing a lot. When I have strong emotions… sadness, fear, and mostly anger, I tend to shove them into boxes within myself. I compartmentalize them so that I don’t have to feel them. I – I don’t do well with conflict. This is the best way to avoid it.”
Sin doesn’t look horrified or disgusted, only curious. “And that technique works for you?”
