Absinthe Of The Heart

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Absinthe Of The Heart Page 14

by Monica James


  “W-what?” I stutter, a blush spreading over me.

  “Take it off…please,” he repeats with a slow, sexy grin.

  I’m beyond bashful as no one has ever seen me naked before. But when his fingers begin working the small buttons of his shirt, I know it’s tit for tat. We’re on equal playing fields, and what’s good for the goose is good for the gander.

  I watch in utmost interest as with each button flicking open, the smooth expanse of his chest becomes more and more real. I’m utterly hypnotized when he unfastens the last button and slips the shirt off his shoulders. It falls to the floor.

  He’s still aching from his injuries, that much is clear, but it appears another ache has taken precedence.

  “Your turn,” he commands, still sitting back on his heels, watching me.

  Up until now, I was completely spellbound by what he was doing to my body that I didn’t notice what was going on with his. My attention slopes to his groin. I gulp because an impressive bulge is tenting the front of his pants.

  I know if I want the show to continue, I need to shed some clothes.

  Slowly rising, I sit before him, biting my lip in fear. But when I look into those stormy eyes, I know this was meant to be. It was always going to be him.

  Letting go of my reservations, I grip the edge of my tank and draw it over my head slowly. The moment I’m bare, I bashfully wrap an arm around me, covering my breasts. I don’t know where to look.

  I can feel him scouring over every single scrap of flesh. “Look at me, Princess.” His command is laced with a tenderness I’ve not heard before. Lifting my eyes, I meet his. “Let me see you.”

  My long hair falls around my shoulders and will hopefully provide some sheet of modesty. My heart is about to explode from its confines, but I slowly uncover myself, baring everything I am.

  The moment I’m exposed, something changes in Sin. He almost always has an air of indifference surrounding him, but now, all I see is pure adoration. My nipples pebble as I feel like a worshipped goddess. Being bare hasn’t made me feel vulnerable. It’s made me feel powerful. I suddenly let go of all misgivings and just lose myself in a moment I will never experience again.

  “Your turn,” I whisper, gesturing with my chin to his pants.

  My voice seems to break whatever spell he’s under, and he raises his eyes from where they’re devouring my breasts. He licks his bowed lip with a nod.

  With deft fingers, he unfastens his belt and then unsnaps the top button of his pants. He doesn’t unthread his belt. Why does that make him look all the more hotter?

  Now that I’m not suspended in shock, I skim down his body, not believing he is real. His chiseled muscles and rock-hard abs give Michelangelo’s David a run for his money. His body is carved from pure granite.

  He’s virtually hairless, apart from a dark scruff which paints his belly button and then leads down…down. His V muscles are defined—years as a quarterback have fared him well. He lowers his zipper and each inch reveals more of the soft curls nestled below.

  He never breaks eye contact as he hooks his fingers through the waistband of his pants and lowers them down his thighs.

  I blink.

  London Sinclair is kneeling before me…naked.

  He’s not wearing any boxer shorts, so I can see him—hard, hot, and huge. The sight has me rubbing my legs together.

  I don’t know what I expected to feel when I saw my first cock up close and personal, but I suddenly think I’m running a fever because my god…he’s epic.

  He shifts off the bed to disrobe completely and stands by the foot, totally bare.

  Everything tingles. I’m certain the tips of my ears are also turned on. I can’t tear my eyes away from him. “You’re fucking incredible.”

  A coy smirk tugs at his lips. “Thank you, but I pale in comparison to you. I’m so not worthy, but I want you…so bad.”

  “I thought you hated me,” I whisper, his confession leaving me winded.

  “I never hated you, Princess.” He stalks forward, placing one knee on the mattress, followed by the other. He commences an unhurried prowl toward me, his injuries appearing to be long forgotten. I instantly surrender.

  The moment my head hits the pillow, he sits on his heels by my feet. He takes his time exploring me, his sight landing at the junction of my thighs. “I hated myself for feeling what I felt…what I feel for you.”

  He crawls up my body, placing both hands on either side of my head, but keeps his full weight off me. “My whole life, my mom told me you were off-limits, that I could have any girl but you…” He lowers his lips, kissing my jaw and along my neck. “But I never wanted any of them. All I ever wanted…was you.”

  My eyes roll into the back of my head as he bites over my pulse before licking his way down. He kisses the tops of my breasts, languidly switching between the two. When he dips between their valley and traces the inner crease with his tongue, my hips rocket off the mattress, the feeling too incredible for words.

  He chuckles against me, the warmth of his breath setting me alight. With one hand, he cups my left breast, while he glides over to the right and takes my nipple into his hot mouth. The moment he sucks with a sharp tug, I’m unable to hold back and cry out in frantic demand. He tweaks my nipple between his fingers and fondles my breast in his large palm. All the while, his lips and mouth continue to torment its partner, circling his tongue around my areola.

  I have never felt something so powerful before. Lincoln has never stirred these feelings in me. I suppose he’s never touched me so intimately, but a little voice inside me whispers that no one could ever make me feel this way—no one.

  A burn eats at my center, and I scissor my legs, hoping to douse the flames before I explode. “I’ve never met anyone I wanted to strangle or…savor…” He sucks my entire breast into his mouth, then lets it go with a pop. “As much as I do you.”

  By this stage, I will do anything he wants just as long as he puts me out of my misery. “Stop talking already and please…get me off.”

  Not exactly poetic, but I know he’ll appreciate the candor.

  He hums against my flesh, inhaling deeply and grunting out his approval. “Such a princess,” he hums, giving way to why he uses that pet name for me.

  With his mouth nipping and teasing my breast, he walks a hand between us and rubs over my aching flesh. I gasp, squeezing my eyes shut. When I buck my hips, he chuckles before finally giving me what I want. He thrusts his hand into my shorts and works two fingers inside me.

  He begins pumping in and out quickly, the friction setting off a chain reaction of need, want, and an untamed longing to become one. I cry out and writhe under his hold, but he never stops, and I don’t want him to. Before long, I’m humming with a pulsating energy, and if I don’t release, I’ll explode.

  He’s skating around where I want him to be on purpose, flicking over my clit but not paying the attention I so desperately need. “Please, please…get me off,” I cry out, frustrated and on the verge of tears.

  “Oh, Princess, I plan to…” My head snaps up, and I watch with heated horror as he releases my breast before crawling down my body. He comes to a stop between my legs. Looking up at me, he hooks his fingers into the waistband of my shorts before sliding them down my legs. I lift my ass so he’s able to take them off with ease.

  This is the moment I should close my legs because Sin is inches from my center, but any qualms have long been forgotten, and I open my legs in welcome. He takes a moment to appreciate my nakedness, the blue of his eyes eaten up with wanton pools of desire.

  He leans up on one elbow, tracing his fingertip along my quivering stomach and circling my belly button. “You are a fucking vision. I’ve jacked off to you countless times, but my imagination could never compare to the real thing.”

  I wheeze, his admission turning my skin pinker. “Have you thought about me when you’ve touched yourself? Touched this—” he hums low “—pussy?” For emphasis, he cups me in one h
and, and I lift my hips and moan.

  I know he’s waiting for an answer, and will torture me until I reply. “Yes,” I confess, because it’s the truth. “You’re the only person who can make me c-come.”

  He grunts, tonguing his upper lip in pride. “And they call me a bad boy. You, Princess, are one bad, bad girl. Maybe that’s why I like you so much. You’re unapologetic…just like me.”

  I don’t see the point in arguing. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t, because when he lowers his head and buries his face between my splayed legs, he takes my breath away. Every molecule in my body throbs uncontrollably, and I think I’m on the verge of dying when he lifts my left leg over his shoulder and begins licking and tonguing between my wet folds.

  His hand skims up my body to cup my breast while he continues to eat me with a ravenous need. I thread my fingers through his soft hair, needing something to hold, as I’m afraid I’ll float away. He doesn’t stop and continues to lick and suckle me, delving his tongue as deep as he can reach inside me. His scruff is scratchy against my untouched flesh, but I grind down harder.

  I scream out, my back bowing as he flicks his tongue over my clit, spreading me wide with two fingers. “Oh…god,” I bellow, grinding on his face, chasing my release. He hums against me, which just adds to the sensation.

  When he sucks my swollen bud, I rocket off the bed, shattering. “Fuck,” he groans against me, tunneling deeper. “You taste amazing.” He clenches his fingers around my thigh, opening me up wider.

  I want a release, but I don’t want that to happen around his tongue. I want to feel him…all of him…inside me. “Sin—” I gasp, pulling at his hair, hinting I want more.

  He pulls away, peering up at me, my arousal coating his lips. “Are you sure?” I nod without missing a beat.

  He kisses over my entrance one last time, before briskly lifting himself off the bed and hunting through his pants to find his wallet. The moment he finds the gold packet and rips it open, things start to get real.

  I’m about to lose my virginity to the one boy I promised to stay away from. But as I watch him slip on the condom, I know this belongs to him—it always has. He’s the first boy who made me feel anything, and he’s the only person who understands how much I hate loving him, and myself.

  He’s standing at the foot of the bed, erect and so ruggedly beautiful. I lean up on both elbows, unable to take my eyes off him. “Please.” I don’t know what else to say because that one simple word amounts to so much.

  He runs a hand through his dirty blond hair, as if weighing up the seriousness of what we’re about to do. “You’re sure?” he questions again. “Because I don’t want to be a mistake.”

  I lower my eyes, ashamed I ever referred to him in that way. “I’m sure. I’m the one who made the mistake of not telling you how much I wanted you sooner.” His chest rises and falls, and he closes his eyes in sweet victory.

  Settling onto the bed, I wait for him. My heavy breathing gives away my sheer terror, but that fear is replaced with an excitement for what we’re about to do. The mattress dips with his weight, and I gulp when his lips kiss a trail from my ankle up toward my sex. He continues to kiss me, working his way up my stomach and taking a detour to my breasts.

  My eyes are sealed shut because I’m lost in the feel of him. He’s gentle but rough all in the same breath. It’s perfect.

  “Open your eyes,” he lightly commands, and I comply. I get lost in those blue depths and doubt I’ll ever be found.

  He bites his lip before lowering his mouth to mine. We kiss, but unlike before, this union is laced with a sweet longing—it’s my most favorite kiss of all.

  I interlock my arms around his nape while he reaches down between us, dipping two fingers inside me to ensure I’m ready. I am. I lose myself in the feel of his mouth, tongue, smell…but when he pauses, as if grounding himself before he inhales deeply and pushes into me, nothing else exists but this.

  I moan around his tongue when he nudges into me, but he suddenly freezes, his eyes frantically searching mine. “What the fuck, Holland?” he hisses when he feels my wall of virtue impeding his progress. “I thought you and Li—” He leaves the sentence unfinished, but I know what he’s asking.

  Slapping my hand over his mouth, I shake my head. “Don’t say his name. It’s just us. It always has been.” I’m afraid he’ll stop, my virginity somehow making him change his mind.

  “Are you sure you want this?” He’s wrestling with his morals, but I put any doubt to rest.

  “…I want you,” I whisper, raising my hips and arching into him. He grunts, his eyes slipping to half mast, and I know I’ve won.

  He sinks into me, breaking down the walls between us. “Oh.” I moan, never feeling fuller.

  “Are you okay?” He once again stills, allowing my body to accept him.

  “Yes, just go slow.” I cringe because he stretches me wide, my body blaring in protest.

  He kisses the tip of my nose and smiles. “Anything you want, Princess.”

  He begins to move, inching in and out, gauging how it feels by watching me closely. It hurts, it hurts a great deal, and I’m short of breath when he pushes into me all the way to the hilt. “I’ll stop.” He attempts to pull out, but I latch onto him and clench my muscles below.

  “No. Don’t you dare.” He smirks, and the sight loosens me up.

  I reach up to merge our lips, and he kisses me with a languid, desirous speed. Closing my eyes, I focus on the pleasure and not the pain, and slowly begin to meet him thrust for thrust. He sinks in so deep, I think he’s tunneling through me, but it’s exactly what I want, because I feel us becoming one.

  He hums into my mouth, driving into me faster, but the friction no longer hurts because it hurts…so good. I attempt to match his speed, but I can’t. I’m paralyzed, engulfed at this moment, but he seems happy to control just how he wants me to move.

  I’m pretty certain I’m lying like a starfish, but Sin’s grunts and tender kisses reveal he’s receiving as much pleasure as he is giving. I hook my leg around his waist to deepen the angle, but then cry out, not expecting it to feel that good.

  “You okay?” he pants, searching my face for any signs of discomfort.

  “Yes, just don’t stop,” I breathlessly reply, clenching onto him.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  He begins to drive into me, faster and harder, and although it hurts, the pain is interlaced with pure ecstasy and pleasure. My body devours him, savoring the way his bow lips are slightly parted, his mussed hair flicks forward over his brow, and the way he works into me like he was crafted especially for me.

  We fit…perfectly.

  I tilt my head back, and he licks the pillar of my neck, biting and sucking. That, combined with him pushing and pulling, is driving me over the threshold. My release begins building and burning, and I cry, tears stinging my eyes.

  “Once this is over, promise me…” I pant, fastening my arms around his nape, never wanting to let go. “Promise me this changes us.”

  At this moment, I am London’s and he is mine. I know what that means, but I’ll deal with the aftermath tomorrow. With London by my side, I can handle anything.

  “Princess…” he purrs against my neck, “this changes everything. You belong to me. You always have.”

  The possession is exactly what I need to hear. “And you belong to me?” I sound needy and scared, but I need to know.

  He bores into me faster…harder…deeper…but I take everything he gives, my body moving up the mattress from the force. He unexpectedly sits up and drags me up with him, slamming me onto his lap. The angle feels so different, but it feels so good.

  With eyes locked, he nods. “Always.”

  It’s exactly what I need to hear, and I begin springing against him, bouncing when he latches low onto my waist to encourage me to move. “You feel this?” He drives in so deep, I see stars.

  “Yes,” I cry, wrapping my arms around him and riding him fa
st.

  “No one will ever make you feel this way. No one. You and I will always be unfinished business. All these years, everything…it’s all for you.”

  I’m too far gone to even interpret what that means. My release races closer and closer to the finish line.

  “Are you close?” I nod, biting my lip. “You first.” He won’t come until I do. “Come on, Princess. Let go. I want to see you.”

  My heart is galloping, my body is sticky and spent, but when I look into Sin’s eyes and see the boy I’ve loved from the moment I met him, everything crashes into me and I explode with a thunderous howl. I milk him, biting his shoulder as I slump forward, everything detonating before me.

  “Fucking beautiful,” he hums. With two quick pumps, he shudders with a low, husky growl.

  We fall back onto the bed, his body pressed to mine. Our hearts are kicking against one another, displaying that what we felt was larger than life. He’s still rooted deep inside but doesn’t attempt to shift off me. He brushes the matted hair from my brow and kisses my lips.

  We stay like this, never moving, but on the inside…I’ve never felt more alive.

  I wake the next morning from the most vivid dream. I dreamed I had sex with Sin, and I liked it—a lot.

  The standard feelings of repulsion don’t pervade every limb, so I crack open an eye, wondering why. The answer lies on the pillow beside me.

  Shooting upright, I brush the matted hair from my face, scanning the room as my sleep-clogged brain plays catch-up. There is no one in here but me; however, the scribbled note left behind reveals that wasn’t the case last night.

  Erotic visions of naked flesh, tangled limbs, and holy shit…I lost my virginity, and I lost it to London Sinclair.

  Lifting the twisted sheet from my torso, I see that I’m very naked. My muscles protest the moment I move, but the sting is a reminder of the delicious things Sin did to my body. But where is he?

  A sense of dread fills me to the brim, and I glance at the note, hoping to god this isn’t a Dear John letter.

  Without further ado, I reach for it.

 

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