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Lawless Sinners

Page 110

by Autumn Archer

“For intruders?”

“For anyone who thinks the dark gives them an advantage over us.”

My fingers curl against the casing. “You’re a fucking cheater, Fionn.”

“I never set any rules.” His mouth is close enough that I catch the slight change in his breathing. “Now take off your clothes.”

“In the middle of your house?”

“No one can see you,” he confirms. “Only me.”

I should order him to turn the lights back on, but the command sinks through me, dragging heat so low that the throb between my thighs turns unbearable. I’m wet before a single button is undone. That’s what he does to me, and I hate that he knows it.

The hem catches under my fingers because I move fast, gathering the material at my ribs before pulling it upward.

For a brief moment, my arms are trapped above my head and my sightless world senses only cotton over my face, cool skin, and the heat of Fionn standing close.

The top clears my head and drops from my hand, falling somewhere near my feet. Cold air touches my stomach, then my breasts when I take off my bra next.

“Still watching, Harrington?”

“Every second.”

My fingers go to the button of my jeans, and I push it through the denim before lowering the zip.

“Do you always use security equipment like this?”

“No.”

My stomach pulls tight at how quickly he answers, and I hook my thumbs beneath the waistband before shoving the jeans down my legs.

The denim catches at my ankles, leaving me half-naked and balancing badly while I kick off one boot, then the other. I refuse to reach for him, so I work the jeans loose by touch alone and step free with less grace than I’d like.

By the time the jeans are off, my pulse is everywhere.

I stand in front of him in the dark, unable to see a single thing, knowing he can somehow see all of me.

“What now?” I ask, my voice rough around each breath.

His fingers come to my breast, skimming the skin before circling my nipple with a patience that makes my thighs press together.

“Now,” he says, his mouth brushing my ear, “you’re going to kneel.”

My chin lifts, even though he can’t see the look I give him. “Ask nicely.”

His hand closes around my throat, and his lips skate across my jaw.

“No.” The word moves straight through me. “Get on your knees, little wild thing, and put that mouth to better use.”

I lower myself carefully because I refuse to stumble for him. The floor is cold beneath my knees, and the dark makes every sound sharper. His belt buckle coming undone. His zip opening. The quiet drag of fabric passing his hips.

My hands find his thighs first, warm and hard beneath my palms, then the cut of his hipbones and the thick, heavy length of his dick lying against his stomach, the head already slick.

My mouth waters. “Say one smug thing, and I’ll bite.”

“Now that I’d like.”

I shuffle closer, skating my hands over his skin before pressing my mouth to the base of his dick and flicking my tongue over the smooth heat there.