I ran my hands over my own chest and stomach, wishing they were his. My heart sped up a bit as my fingers slid lower, dipping just under the waistband of my panties. The pleasure from my own fingers would be nothing compared to how Sin had made me feel. How I clenched around those muscular digits as he thrust them deeper and deeper.
The images overwhelmed me, and I succumbed to them.
Sin running his tongue down the center of me.
My own hand slid further into my panties.
Sin flicking his tongue over my clit.
I swirled my fingers over that same spot.
Sin licking and sucking as my hips bucked against his face.
I cried out as the memory and the reality mixed together. The pulsing heat was too intense, except I wasn’t burning. I was aching. For Sin.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to know if he felt the same.
“I’m sorry, but I have to go,” I said to Jenni and Opal as I slipped my robe on. “Can you stay hidden if someone comes in?”
Jenni dipped her head.“Rain and Sin happy.”
I smiled at her words. “I hope so.” Then I was out the door and rushing down the hallway.
The darkened castle was eerily silent, and anticipation pricked at my skin as I hovered outside Sin’s room. This wasn’t smart. Or rational. And it would only make leaving a million times harder.
But I needed him.
I just hoped he needed me even half as much.
I raised my hand to knock, but the door swung open before I could make contact.
Sin’s hair was slicked back, wet from a shower, and his dark ocean smell was stronger than usual. My eyes drifted shut as the scent washed over me. When they opened, his green eyes were molten with desire.
I swallowed roughly. His eyes were making promises that I would kill to see fulfilled.
“I was just coming to see you,” he said, his low, gravelly voice sending a wave of heat through me. “Do you want to come in?” He held the door open, and I slipped inside.
I hadn’t seen much of his room before when he and Dey got into their fight, only snatching a quick glimpse while I was struggling with my panic attack. It was smaller, more cozy than mine, with thick rugs covering the floor and tapestries adorning the walls. One in particular was similar to the night sky mural my mother had commissioned for the antechamber. A wrinkled, threadbare quilt lay crumpled on top of an old steamer chest at the foot of his bed, and a glass of water sat on his nightstand beside a lantern that cast a soft, flickering glow over the room.
There was a small weapons rack in the corner, displaying a dozen daggers and small swords, and a tall bookcase dominated the entire wall beside it. Each shelf of the case was packed to thebrim, with extra novels shoved in sideways to fill the gaps, while even more were tossed haphazardly on top.
My eyes swept over to the entrance into his bathroom, and I noted the pile of wet towels on the floor. A neat freak Sin was not, and I kind of loved that about him. There was something so intimate about a person letting you see their mess. Letting you see the real them without any societal expectations or trappings. He didn’t need to put on a show for me. I loved his adorable, cluttered room.
I sat on the edge of his bed, struggling to slow my racing heart. Now was quite possibly the worst time to have a panic attack.
He eased the door shut and leaned back against it, watching me curiously, like I was a wild animal that might bolt if he made any sudden movements.
“What’s tumbling through that head of yours, Rain?” he asked softly. “What has you staring at me like that?”
“Like what?” I croaked out.
“Like you’re afraid of me.”
I tucked my sweaty hands under my legs, looking away from him. “Because I am,” I admitted softly.
He was quiet for a long moment. When he finally replied, his voice was thick with an emotion I couldn’t place. “Why?”
The answer lodged itself in my throat. God, I was being such a coward, once again refusing to allow myself any semblance of happiness because I always told myself I didn't deserve it.
