I trail my nose along the skin of her neck, inhaling the scent of lavender and vanilla. I stand up and have to adjust my raging hard on, but I want to savor this time with her.
"What are you doing?" she pouts.
I hold my hand out to her, and she takes it, despite not knowing where I'm leading her. "I want to watch a movie."
Her eyes drop to my groin and then back up. "Really? Because that doesn't look like you want to watch a movie."
Gesturing to the bed I tell her, "This I've done. I have fucked dozens of women, but that's all it's ever been. I've never just snuggled and watched a movie before."
She licks her lips. "Okay, but I'm going to make it very hard for you to just hold me."
I smirk. "I'd say we've both admitted you're already making this hard for me."
23
Netflix and Chill
Raven
We move to the couch, and Sin flips on the television. He uses the hotspot to turn on Netflix. He scrolls through the options and picks a movie at random. I get the feeling he's not watched many movies before because I don't think he'd have chosen a romantic comedy otherwise.
Except, the way he starts to study the interaction of the couple as they fumble their way through their meet-cute makes me think he's trying to learn from them. My heart skips a beat. Sin seems so much older than his twenty-one years, except in some ways I realize he's still very young. Emotions are a mystery to him, and I love that I'm getting to watch him discover himself.
There's a small space between us. Both of us fidgeting trying to figure out how to make the first move. I refrain from doing much, knowing he needs to figure this out. Tentatively, his hand finds mine, and for a little while we watch the movie with only the innocent touch of our fingers twined together.
He grows bolder as the movie lags on, pulling me closer. I turn in his arms, resting my back against his front, my head cradled on his wide shoulder. He pulls the cover over us and holds me tighter.
His nervousness is adorable but unnecessary. I promised him I wouldn't go easy on him. Rocking back, I press my ass against his still impressive erection. No wonder he isn't comfortable. A few more brushes and he drops his hands to my hips, forcing me still.
"What are you doing?" he asks, tension lacing his voice.
"Trying to get comfortable," I murmur.
He chuckles, and his hand slides under the hem of my tank top, but frustratingly remains on my stomach. "Behave," he chides.
"Why?" I rock against him again and hear him suck in a breath.
He groans, and I feel his resolve snap. Torturously slow, his rough hand moves across my skin. The callouses scrape against me sending chills along my body. He continues the movement until he's cupping my bare breast and pinching my nipple. When he tugs on it, it sends a jolt through my body igniting a painful throbbing between my legs.
I rub my thighs together to try and ease the ache, but it only makes me painfully aware of how empty I am as the walls of my pussy try and close around nothing.
His other hand slides into my shorts, teasing me, but not moving where I desperately need him to go. My body feels hot, and incoherent noises escape me. I'm begging him without words, but he continues to torture me with light touches.
"Please," I beg.
"Watch the movie," he demands.
I groan, but his fingers move to my clit, applying pressure, circling the bundle of nerves.
"Anything you say, just don't stop touching me," I pant.
"Be careful what you promise," he warns.
"Anything, anytime. I'm yours," I promise him.
He growls, and it's the sexiest thing I've ever heard. "Fuck the movie." Picking me up, he strolls with a purpose to the bedroom.
"Here's your last chance to back out. I don't know how to be gentle, and I'll try to learn, but right now I want you too badly."
I lift my chin. "Give me everything."
He pulls my clothes off, and stalks me until my knees hit the bed and I fall onto my back. I'm not afraid of him, but his intensity has me taking steps back out of instinct.
Reaching behind his head he pulls his shirt off and throws it away. His belt comes off next, and he holds it in his hands. He uses it to bind my wrists, and somehow ties a knot in the headboard so I can't move.
I'm at his mercy, and the thought ramps up my arousal exponentially. Pulling my knees apart he studies me. When he licks his lips I know what he's planning, and I try and close my knees. He holds them open and continues to stare hungrily at my pussy.
Lowering to his knees, he nips at my thighs, his stubble lightly scratches at my skin, and I stop fighting to close my legs. His hot breath hits my center before his tongue. When he flicks his tongue against my throbbing clit, my eyes nearly roll back into my head.
My fingers twitch with the need to bury themselves in his hair. The fact I can't move forces me to feel every ounce of pleasure he slowly chooses to give me.
I've had sex, but never experienced this level of vulnerability. Sin's in complete control of my body, and while I'm not a particularly submissive woman, I'm turned on letting him call the shots.
His fingers enter me while he continues to drive me wild with his tongue. My body starts to climb, and I start to shake. He senses the moment I'm about to come and stops suddenly.
"Don't stop. I'm so close," I beg.
"You've already come on my fingers at the cabin. This time you'll come on my cock."
I whimper. His words are dirty like I somehow knew they would be, but I didn't expect to like it. I'm burning up from the inside out, but he doesn't move to take off his pants, and I start to thrash against the binding of my wrist.
He moves off me, standing on the side of the bed. I think he's going to undress, but he just stands still looking disappointed.
"What's wrong?" I'm a panting mess of need. If he doesn't touch me soon I'm going to lose my mind. Can you go insane from sexual frustration?
He exhales in frustration, and I feel a pang of rejection.
"I don't have any condoms."
My stomach sinks, and the ideas flitting through my mind are reckless, and yet so right. Once it takes root, it's the only way. There should never be anything between us, physically, or metaphorically. "Have you ever not used one before?"
He sighs. "Never."
"I'm on birth control," I tell him. "I've never not used protection either, but I want to with you."
I think I'm going to have to convince him until his hands start shaking while he starts to remove his jeans.
"Are you sure?" he asks.
"Never been more sure in my life," I swear.
Sin's eyes hold mine as he slowly pulls down his zipper. The denim falls down his legs, and he kicks it away. Up until now I haven't even seen him without a shirt. His wide shoulders and chest taper to a trim waist. Dense muscles ripple and flex with every step he takes toward me.
He stands and watches me warily while I take him in. My eyes feast hungrily, bouncing from one feature to another, unsure if something will keep him from me after tonight. I don't get to keep good things, and I intend to savor every second I spend with him as if it could be the last.
Moving down from his sinfully plump lips to his chest, I notice there's a light dusting of dark hair. It looks like it's enough to tickle, but not so much as to obscure the deep grooves that define his muscular torso.
My eyes land on his shoulder, where there's a circular scar just under his clavicle. He sees where my eyes land, and rubs the smooth pink mark. "Bullet wound," he whispers in a rough voice.
I nod, fighting the tears stinging my eyes. He won't want my pity, not that I feel that way. I'm angry at the way he's been treated as if he were disposable. To me he's everything.
On his side there's a longer, more jagged scar. Again, he runs his fingers along it. "Knife wound."
A strangled sound escapes my throat, and I want to run my hands over every hurt he's been inflicted. His eyes soften, and he moves closer. Crawl
ing up my body, his large hands cradle my face. "Shh," he soothes. "Why are you crying?" He looks mystified and a little afraid of my tears.
"I want to kill everyone who's ever hurt you." God, I want to touch him. Clearly he knew I would, which is probably why he bound my hands. I'm not sure, but I sense he's uncomfortable being touched during sex. Given some of the details he's shared, I fear he hasn't always had the power to refuse consent. It's another deeper scar.
He lowers his head until our foreheads are touching, and for a moment we just exist together. "I already have," he whispers after a moment.
"Good," I say, almost breathlessly.
Sin rubs his nose against mine, then gently kisses my lips. "You're a bloodthirsty little thing."
"Mmm," I hum. With him so close but not close enough the tension is building again. I need him more than food, air, or water. He's becoming essential to me, and it scares the shit out of me.
"Touch me, please," I beg.
"Like this?" he whispers, and brushes his lips across my neck.
"More," I groan.
His lips find mine, and he kisses me lazily. It's an exploration without urgency, and somehow also the most erotic kiss I've ever had.
"Please," I whimper against his mouth.
Finally, I feel the head of his cock teasing my entrance. With a firm grip on my knee, he raises my leg to fit under his arm, then repeats the action with the other side. My legs are trapped between hard ridges of muscle and my hands are bound. I'm completely at his mercy, but still his movements are languid.
"Stop holding back," I demand, and rock my hips, moving him deeper inside of me.
His dark eyes flash, and he slams into me. "Is this what you need, princess?"
"God, yes," I moan.
Giving me a moment to adjust, we stare into each other's eyes. There's a current running between us. I'm tethered to him, and whether he feels the same or not, I know after this moment I'll never want anyone else.
He rocks into me, and my fingers dig into the leather binding my wrists.
"You're mine," he grunts. It's the same thing he told me at the cabin, only now I really believe him.
"I want to touch you," I beg.
"I can't yet. It's too much. I feel too much."
My tongue flicks against the crease in his bottom lip. "Show me."
He growls, and his thrusts become demanding, causing the headboard to slam against the wall. With my hands tied and my legs pinned I'm powerless to do anything except take what he gives me.
"You can have everything, all of me, for as long as you want me," he promises.
My faces scrunches in confusion. He just answered the thoughts racing through my mind. The connection between us is overwhelming in the best way.
"It is, but I'm not reading your mind, you just happen to be saying your thoughts out loud."
I groan in embarrassment and pleasure.
"I love the sounds you make." He nips and sucks at my neck before trailing kisses over my breast and sucking on the aching peak before moving to the other one.
He looks back up at me, with dark eyes that seem to burn. "You should have run from me when we first met, princess. You don't belong in the dark with a monster, but now that you're here I'm too selfish to let you go."
"Don't ever let me go." My voice is breathy, betraying how close I'm getting to climaxing.
"My princess is needy," he teases.
"Yes, Sin, please, please," I beg. I've been hanging on the edge of orgasm for too long, and I feel like I'll die if I don't come.
"When I touch you, all I see is you, you're every breath, every heartbeat. I need you to know that even when I fuck you, I am reaching for more than your body. I don't know how to make love, and even if I did, the way I feel for you is too intense."
Sin kisses me again, this time it's fevered, as if I'm the oxygen he needs to survive. It doesn't matter what we call this. I don't even care that we haven't said I love you. The words are inadequate anyway.
"Any time you touch me, any way you touch me is perfect as long as you never stop touching me," I say when we pull away from each other's mouths to breathe.
He drops his head into the crook of my neck and inhales deeply. Against my chest I feel his heart beating frantically. Sin takes me harder and faster than I'd have ever believed possible. When I wake in the morning I'll be wearing marks from his fingers, and I know I'll treasure each one of them. I feel him everywhere, but mostly in my heart. I'm breaking apart into atoms of pure energy and knitting back together altered.
His breathing becomes more ragged, and I feel him swell even bigger inside of me. He's close, but he's waiting for me to fall off the edge first. Reaching between us, he applies pressure to my clit, and I explode screaming his name.
If my hands were free I'd be clawing at him now. He feels so good it almost hurts, and the combination of pleasure and pain hurdles me to an even bigger climax.
He roars when he comes, throwing his head back, his muscles straining from the exertion. Sin is devastatingly handsome normally, but watching him come is exquisite.
Reaching up he releases my hands. I shake them to get the blood flowing again and wrap my arms around him. He tenses, but only for a second, and drops his weight on me. We stay like that, tangled together, until our breathing returns to normal.
Eventually he slips out of me, and I feel the loss of him instantly. Pulling me against his chest, I press my lips against his scar. His fingers run through my hair, and I find it hard to keep my eyes open.
24
Decisions
Sin
Light pours in the room through the cheap Walmart blinds on the window. Raven's hair is tangled from my hands, there are faint marks on her wrists from her pulling against the belt I used to bind them, and there are small but dark marks on her neck and shoulders. She looks thoroughly fucked, and though I should feel guilty seeing her perfect skin marred by my touch, I don't.
Carefully, so I don't wake her, I pull back the blanket. Just as I thought, there are finger shaped bruises on her hips and thighs from where I grabbed her. Still, no feelings of shame surface.
The beast inside of me wants to claim her again, but loud snoring from the living room alerts me to the fact Lucien is home. The fact I didn't wake when he returned, as I usually would, makes me uncomfortable. I make a mental note to see if Shane can make some kind of alarm to let me know when someone comes in.
Reluctantly, I slip out of Raven's arms before I give in to temptation and wake her up. Putting on a pair of sweats, I head to the kitchen to make coffee. Last night was the best night's sleep I ever had, but I still need caffeine to be human.
Lucien grumbles and wakes up as the scent of coffee fills the apartment. It's still strained between us, after all I know he at least suspects I'm no longer only sleeping in bed with his sister. He and Raven seem to have made up though, so that's progress. It'll take me a bit longer to deal with seeing her unconscious and bleeding after her head hit the dresser.
He stumbles into the kitchen. "I uploaded the spyware you coded last night. We should be able to monitor all of their communications. When did you learn to code like that? That was some next level shit."
I shrug. "Several years ago."
"Why didn't I know about it?" He leans against the counter, his arms across his chest, watching me.
"There are a few things you don't know about me," I grumble. Really, is it too much to ask to have this conversation after coffee?
"Like that you're fucking my sister."
I grip the countertop and squeeze. "I thought we had this pissing contest already."
"She's not like the maids back at the manor."
"Don't you think I fucking know that?" I'm losing my temper, which never happened before Raven. Now that she's opened up my heart it seems all of my emotions are running wild.
"She's my sister, Sin."
"And she's my everything."
He blinks and relaxes his arms. I jump when he start
s laughing. "Well shit. You love her."
"I–" This is a repeat of the conversation I had with Ford. "How do you know when you love someone?"
"When you feel like they're your everything," he says, his tone laced with sadness.
I nod several times until I'm doing a pretty dead on impression of a bobble head. I love Raven. It isn't that I didn't know on some level. My feelings for her are all consuming and clear. It's more that the word love doesn't hold much meaning for me.
People love chocolate, coffee, puppies, and even sports. It's the most overused word I can think of, and I can't equate my feelings for her like some people would a fucking pumpkin spiced latte.
Shaking my head, I find myself saying, "No."
A gasp from the bedroom doorway tells me Raven came out of the room at exactly the wrong time. "You don't love me?"
Panic seizes me. "Come here," I rasp.
Tentatively, she moves closer to me. Her arms are wrapped around herself, and I can see the pain hearing part of the conversation caused her.
The need to touch her takes over, and I rub her arms. "Love is too weak of a word for what I feel for you. I was just thinking that people express how much they love lots of inconsequential shit. I love coffee, but I can't feel the same way about you I do about my morning caffeine fix."
"Okay," she says quietly. "So, uhm, what are you saying?"
"I need a word that fits better. I live you, breathe you, fucking need you. When I say you're my everything I mean I would probably die without you at this point."
Raven melts and takes the remaining steps until she's in my arms again. Where she should always be.
"I was wrong before," Lucien interrupts. Best friend or not, I might kill him.
"About?" I ask him.
"You being with my sister. I know you'll protect her. That you'd die for her. Everyone should get to be loved like that, especially her."
"It's really annoying when you both keep talking about me like I'm not standing right here," she complains.
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