The Secret (The Evolution Of Sin Book 2)
Page 25
“I am so sorry,” I said somberly.
I was rewarded with his small smile. “So was I, at the time. I lived on a carefully constructed schedule Willa created for me: schooling, modeling and dating. Until you, I hadn’t realized I’d never stopped living like that even after I ‘rebelled’ and moved out.”
“Dating?”
“Willa and Mort have always expected me to marry well.” He hesitated. “They weren’t even pleased with Elena at first but she worked tirelessly to impress them and now she and Willa are thick as thieves.”
I looked down at my hands so that Sinclair couldn’t see how those words scrambled my compartmentalized thoughts.
He sat down beside me and tipped my chin up with two fingers so that I had to stare into his intense eyes. “Elle, don’t leave me.”
“I’m here.”
His eyes narrowed, the fingers under my chin turned over to pinch it firmly. “I can’t have you checking out of this relationship every time we talk about Elena. We need to talk about her. She’s a part of your family and a huge part of my past, if we don’t normalize discussion about her, she will come between us.”
“I’m sorry. There is just so much… stuff.”
I leaned into his hand as he cupped my cheek.
“I know, which actually leads perfectly into the surprise I have for you. I have to be in France on business next week. When we met on the plane to Mexico, I was just returning from an inspection of a recently acquired property in Paris and it’s time that I go back to check on the finishing touches and interview the short listed interior designers.”
My heart sank at the thought of being apart from him just when we had decided to be together but I knew Sinclair’s job was his number one priority and I respected him for his dedication, lusted after him for his drive.
“I completely understand. I’ll miss you but we can talk when you get back,” I said.
He was smiling when I looked back up at him. “I hoped you would come with me. It will give us time to figure out how we want to… proceed without the anxiety of lying to our friends and family. But mostly, I love the thought of having you to myself for another seven days, of walking through the streets holding your hand, kissing you when the urge strikes me – which will be often, I’m warning you.”
The idea of being with Sinclair in Paris made me dizzy. My mind rebelled against the image because it was too good to be true. How was it possible that despite everything, I could visit the city I loved by the side of the man I loved? Wasn’t the villain in stories like this supposed to end up with nothing and no one?
“When do we leave?” I asked.
“Tomorrow morning. I thought we could stay here tonight.”
“I would need to go back to Cosima’s and pack.”
“I had Candy go over earlier to pack a bag.” He grinned at my incredulous look. “Just in case you said yes.”
“You are so arrogant,” I laughed.
“You love it.”
“I do.”
“You love me.”
“I do.” My eyes filled with tears. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
Sin’s framed my face in both his large hands and stared at me with complete sincerity, business-like seriousness. “Believe it. Say you’ll come.”
“I’ll come.”
“Good girl,” he murmured before descending on my lips for a thorough kiss. “Now come here.”
He swung me onto his lap so that I was straddling him and gripped my face tightly beneath his hands so that he could maneuver me to his liking as he plundered my mouth. I groaned as he bit into my bottom lip sharply.
“Who owns you, Elle?” he husked against my damp lips.
“You, sir.”
I shivered as his hand moved possessively over my curves to land on my flared hips. Just saying the word sir triggered my submissive nature and I found myself edgy with the need to show him how good I could be. I wanted to bend and break under his hands, be reformed into something new and stronger.
“Yes,” he hissed, seeing the glazed look in my eyes. “Strip for me. Show me what belongs to me.”
I rocked once over his erection, slowly dragging my panty covered core over him so that he gritted his teeth, before I stood up, sashaying a few feet away to the space before the fireplace. I took a moment to breath, to absorb the tingling electricity that flowed through our connection. When I looked over my shoulder at him, there were no insecurities or guilt – nothing existed but Sinclair.
I pouted slightly as I swished my hips back and forth for him, the flirty skirt of my dress flipping up to expose my lace-topped stockings and the ends of the purple garters I wore. His eyes burned against my skin.
Suffused with desire, I bent over to bare my ass to him, the two plump cheeks bisected by the thin wedge of my satin thong. I straightened slowly and turned around to stare at him with my lip between my teeth as I painstakingly undid the buttons on my dress. When the fabric gaped open, I rolled my shoulders one at a time until my torso was free of the garment.
Sin made a primal noise in the back of his throat.
I reached back to undo the clasp of my bra and the little zipper on the skirt at the same time. When they fell to the ground, I lifted both breasts in my hands and pinched my nipples hard. I tilted my head back on a ragged moan.
“Show me your pussy.”
I shuddered. Framing my hands beneath my breasts, I slid them slowly down my stomach until my fingertips slipped beneath the edge of my underwear. My hips swayed languidly as I bent my knees, dipping low to peel apart my legs and briefly flash the damp gusset of my panties at him.
“Show me,” he ordered and his fierce words hit me like a whip.
My sex throbbed but I wanted that look of frustrated need on Sinclair’s face more than I wanted to relieve the ache. I braced myself on my hands and knees facing away from him and reach back to run my fingers lightly over my seam, from ass to clit.
“Feels so good,” I breathed, rocking my hips into my touch.
“Don’t make me ask again.”
I bit my lip as I moved my panties to the side, giving my questing fingers access to my cleft while keeping it from his gaze. I groaned loudly as I sunk two fingers inside myself.
Pain lashed out across my raised buttocks. I jerked forward to absorb some of the shock, my hand flying from my sex to the ground to brace myself. Another blow landed on the other cheek. I whimpered but kept my head lowered, my body still as Sinclair spanked me hard for my disobedience. When he was done, ten blows later, he looped my hair around his fist and tugged so that my back and neck protested the angle.
“Who owns your body?” he whispered harshly into my ear.
I could feel the edge of his massive erection against the hot skin of my ass and despite myself I rubbed against him.
He pulled back tighter on my hair so that my eyes watered and a fresh flood of arousal coated my inner thighs.
“Answer me.”
“You, sir. You own this body.”
“Yet you disobeyed me?” His fingers began to trace back and forth over my swollen sex, just hard enough to stimulate. I tried to rub myself harder against him but he only chuckled and stilled me with one firm hand on my hip. “What happens when you disobey me, siren?”
“I have to be punished, sir.”
His hand smoothed over the sensitized skin of my ass teasingly. “You want to be punished, don’t you?”
When I didn’t answer quickly enough – too absorbed by the connection between his hand and my burning flesh – he spanked me again, three quick, powerful slaps to each cheek.
I whimpered and shamelessly ground myself against the air.
“Be still,” he barked.
I locked my arms and legs but I quivered with lust, my swollen breasts swinging beneath me.
His hand dipped into my sex again before he grabbed my hair, lifting my head so that he could paint my lips with my wetness.
“Taste yourself. See how a
roused you are?”
I licked my lips, caught his lingering fingers with my tongue and drew them into my mouth to suckle. He withdrew them too quickly and I made a noise at the loss.
I wasn’t bereft for long. Before I could even process it, Sin ripped my panties off with one violent tug and thrust three fingers deep inside me. I cried out as he began to pump them in and out while his thumb drew tight circles over my clit. My knees began to quake and unattractive sounds leaked out of my mouth as I lost my mind to the pleasure.
“Sin, sin, sin,” I chanted between whimpers.
“Yes, siren?”
“Please, please, please,”
“Use your words.”
“Please,” I burst out as the burn of my impending orgasm rushed like a brushfire over my skin. “Let me come.”
“The only way you come is on my cock.”
I tried to find the words in my vacant mind to make him understand that I was on the edge, dangling over it, desperate for the final push. “Fuck me then, please sir.”
His fingers left me suddenly and the cool kiss of air-conditioned air made me tremble. If he blew on me, I’d come. But he didn’t. In fact, he waited for so long that I finally looked over my shoulder to find him disrobed, sitting on his haunches as he stared at my exposed core, one fist pulling firmly at his cock.
“Please sir,” I whispered because my strength had deserted me.
“Are you begging for my cock, siren?”
His eyes were bluer than I’d ever seen them as he stared at me, his face impassive. It turned me on so much to see his tightly leashed control. I wanted to rip his mask off with my nails and teeth, impale myself on him and rock and rock until he shattered underneath me.
I nearly snarled when I said, “I need you to fuck me. Please, fuck me hard, fuck me like you hate me.”
Immediately, he rose and pushed down on my lower spine so that my hips were hitched further into the air and I was splayed open for him. The tip of his erection burned my wet lips as he placed himself against me. He reached around to grab me by the throat, lifting me onto my knees as he thrust up into me. I groaned as I settled back against him, basically in his lap. He pressed his chest to my back, tightened his grip on my throat slightly so that my airflow was just barely constricted and bit my ear. “I’ll fuck you, Elle. Because you asked so nicely and your pretty pussy is desperate for it. But I’ll fuck you like I own you, because I could never hate you.”
My open mouth clanged shut as he lifted me with one hand and held me securely in place as he began to pound into me. Each time he bottomed out, our skin slapped together. I loved the sound. I bucked back against him, throwing myself into it so that it hurt. I wanted the pain, I needed it, needed him, to kill the remaining pain in my heart with physical pain.
“Please,” I panted.
He wound my long hair in his hand and tucked it tightly under his arm so that my back was bowed and I couldn’t escape the brutality of his thrusts. His hand found my slick clit and clamped it tight between his fingers. It didn’t seem possible but his pace increased.
“More, more,” I begged, even though I was already incoherent and my orgasm was looming so large, I was actually a little frightened of it.
“When you come, I expect you to thank me,” he ground out.
“Yes sir.”
“Then come.”
His fingers released my raw clit and blood flood back to it painfully. I screamed. He slapped down, once, twice on the abused flesh and I exploded. My mind fractured, crumbled into ash and disappeared so that I was only body: throbbing, hot, slicked and panting, a pink thing of desire. And yet, I remembered to scream out, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
When I came back to myself slightly, Sinclair was still buried inside me, unwilling to move despite our climaxes. His hands shifted over my scalp where it lay on his shoulder and I moaned at the comfort of it.
“You are perfect,” he murmured against my sweaty cheek. “And somehow, you are mine.”
I smiled slightly, too weak to talk. He laughed at me.
There was a gentle knock at the door. Sinclair shifted carefully underneath my prone body until I was in his arms. He stood and swiftly took me to the bedroom where he pulled back the covers and slid me into bed.
“I’ll just deal with room service and be right back,” he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
I nodded but he had already left the room.
I snuggled deeper under the covers and smiled. In twenty-four hours, I would be in my favorite city with a man that I had loved for months and that now, somehow, I could finally call mine. My upcoming showcase was shaping up to be something I was monumentally proud of and I had friends whom I loved in the city. I knew a wealth of pain and animosity awaited us, but for now, I could afford to languish in the beauty of being newly in love. I tilted my head into the soft pillow and sighed, utterly blissed out.
That is, until I heard the voice speaking to Sinclair in the other room.
“Daniel, we need to talk,” Elena said. “I don’t care if it’s a bad time. I’m not leaving until you hear me out.”
Thank you for reading The Secret! If you enjoyed the book, please take a moment to leave a review at your favorite retailer and on Goodreads!
Love,
Giana Darling
About Giana Darling
Giana Darling is a Canadian romance writer currently writing the third in The Evolution of Sin series. After living in the French Alps, Paris and various places on both coasts of Mexico, she lives in the gorgeous city of Vancouver, British Columbia with her Chef best friend and a cat named Persephone. When she isn’t writing, she hosts dinner parties, travels extensively and reads like it is going out of style.
She couldn’t have written The Secret without the loving support of her best friend Belle and the hours of brainstorming she was subjected to. Many thanks go to Najla Qambar of Najla Qamber Designs for another gorgeous cover and teasers. To all those bloggers who took the time to read and review my book thank you from the bottom of my heart! Finally, my beta readers Eliza and Angela Plumlee, and my incredible proofreader and virtual friend Patricia, I can never thank you enough for your support! Your love and encouragement means the world to me. You are superstars!
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