Page 63 of Sinner’s Game

Her brows rose. “I’m supposed to be getting sleep so I’m fresh tomorrow.”

“Uh-huh. And how’s that working out for you?”

She laughed. “Good point.”

“At any rate, I’m planning to behave.”

“Well, now I’m just disappointed,” she quipped, making him laugh.

He pointed at the door to her bedroom. “Go. In bed.”

She whipped off a little salute and headed that way while he toweled off, then went to the kitchenette to grab two glasses, some napkins, and a bottle of Pinot Noir.

When he returned, she’d abandoned her jeans for just a T-shirt and underwear and was sitting up against the headboard, the covers a heap at the foot of the bed.

He’d changed into shorts before going barefoot to the gym. Now he put the wine on the bedside table, slipped into bed beside her, and passed her a glass.

“Thank you.” She took a sip. Then another. Then a very long swallow that drained the glass completely.

“Thirsty?”

“I want to feel it,” she said. “I want it to float me off to sleep. I’m so tired, but I just can’t. Too worked up. I can’t turn my brain off.”

“I know the feeling well. Come here. Lean back.” He indicated his legs, now spread to make room for her. She didn’t hesitate, and he helped her ease over his thigh until she was between his legs and leaning back against his chest. He stifled a moan, her bare legs against his were like a brush of temptation.

“Close your eyes.”

She did, her head back so her hair brushed his shoulder, and he was lost in the scent of her.

He wanted to calm her. Soothe her. More than that, he wanted to feel her. To know that she trusted him in her bed as much as she was trusting him to keep her safe in the world.

He started with her breasts, his palms cupping them, stroking softly over the material of her T-shirt.

“Ronan…”

“Tell me to stop, and I will. Otherwise, close your eyes and enjoy.”

He held still for a moment, giving her time to answer. When she stayed silent, he bent to kiss the top of her head, even as his fingers slid down, lower and lower over her tee until he met the strip of warm skin right above the elastic of her panties.

Slowly, he slid his fingertips beneath the elastic, relishing the way her body went tense in his arms, in sharp contrast to the way her hips tilted up, as if urging him to continue. He did, stroking his fingers over her waxed pussy, loving the feel of her soft skin against the callused tips of his fingers.

With his other hand, he cupped her breast through her shirt, her nipple hard between his thumb and forefingers. He tightened his grip, rolling the nub as his other hand slipped lower, making her moan as his fingers found her slick, wet core.

“You like this,” he murmured. “It makes you wet when I touch you. When I take what I want.”

“Yes.” Her hips moved, as if to draw him inside, but he didn’t comply. Instead, he lightly teased her hard clit, then traced his fingers along her vulva, craving the sensation of sinking deep into her warmth, but holding back to claim the pleasure of driving her just a little bit crazy.

He twisted her nipple, and she cried out.

“Does it hurt?”

“A little.” Her voice was breathy. Hot. And damned if his cock didn’t get even harder.

“I’ll be more gentle.” He wanted to take her to that place where pain turned into pleasure, but not until she was ready. And if she was never ready? Well, that would be okay, too. So long as he could touch her.

“No.” The protest was barely a breath.

“No?”