Page 14 of Sinister

“Just laying out facts, you know? Besides, anyone who can stand up to Daphne and her crew like you did tonight definitely has my respect.”

It is a welcome recollection, so I smile. “Well, they had it coming.”

“They did,” he agrees with a laugh. “And you handled it like a pro.”

The room feels hazy now, the warmth of the alcohol buzzing through my veins.

Who would have thought that I would actually end up connecting with someone today?

And at Elias Rutherford’s party, of all places! Sin and I have been talking for what feels like hours, and it feels like we’ve barely begun to scratch the surface.

And I have gotten so comfortable that I haven’t even noticed my robe has fallen apart near my neck.

I only see Sin’s smiling eyes as he leans closer. Like he has another secret to share with me. There’s an edge to the soft lines of his face as he says, “Would you mind terribly if I told you how pretty you are?”

5

PETRA

Feeling a little silly and a lot flattered, I giggle. “You’re just saying that because we’re both drunk.”

“Maybe I can say it out loud because of liquid courage,” he murmurs, slowly tracing the bloom of my cheek with a long, slender finger. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

At this point, our faces are inches apart, and when I realize this, my heart starts pounding again. Maybe this was all happening too soon, maybe we had both had too much to drink, maybe we should⁠—

His lips brush mine, soft and tentative at first.

I freeze for a second, my mind spinning, and for once, that nagging voice in my head is silenced.

My hands are clasped together in my lap, getting sweatier by the second.

Then Sin’s warm, broad palms cup my face and tilt it slightly upward as his lips press and suck on mine, deepening the kiss before I can even get a word in.

His tongue probes at the seam of my lips, and on a soundless moan, I allow him access to my mouth.

At first, I’m not sure what I’m doing exactly.

I’ve seen movies where people French kiss, but experiencing it for myself is a whole different matter.

He tastes sweet, inviting.

Perhaps this isn’t so bad—having my first kiss with a beautiful guy on my eighteenth birthday.

In fact, that’s quite a nice present.

I barely start to get used to this kissing business when Sin’s lips move to my neck.

I gasp as a shiver goes down my back. Meanwhile, his hands are everywhere, exploring, stroking, cupping.

The taste of alcohol is still strong in my mouth, and behind my closed eyes, the black tapestry seems to be swirling with odd shapes.

Still, I don’t ask him to stop when he starts loosening the sash around the robes—both his and mine.

Soon, my back hits the floor, and he hovers over me, dropping butterfly kisses over the length of my body, starting from the tip of my nose to my collarbone and sternum, and then swooping down lower still.

In fact, Sin handles me expertly, as if I were a doll whose parts he had put together.

Despite the earlier chill in my bones, I’m warm and sweaty now. His body is like a blanket, covering every shivering inch of me and turning it into a molten mass of . . . want?