Page 69 of I Was Born Ruined (Death by Daybreak MC 1)
“Risky …” My voice trails off as Sin pushes my skirt up around my hips, his hand caressing the curve of my ass with a dark reverence that I wish I could see. What must his face look like as he feels me up with those hot hands of his. When he cups me between the legs, I bite my lower lip and curl my fingers into the bedspread.
One of Sin’s fingers traces along the wetness of my core, slicking up to my ass, and teasing that opening, too. I wonder then, if he might spank me the way Grainger teased. Part of me thinks I might punch Sin if he does … while the rest of me thinks I’d love it.
“Spank me.” The words come out before I even mean them to, making me wonder if I have even more fucked-up psychological issues than I realized. But a small, wicked chuckle sounds from behind me just before Sin’s hand slaps my ass hard enough to hurt. There’s a sharp crack of flesh on flesh, and the burn of a fresh sting.
There’s a brief moment of reprieve, and then Sin is spanking me again, even harder. He runs his palms up my sides and under my shirt, finding my breasts again and yanking down the lace of the cups until they spill free into his hands. My back is arched, my ass pressed back against the denim of his jeans. I can feel him through the fabric, straining for me, wanting.
Sin uses both thumbs to rub my nipples, and my back arches with pleasure, like a cat, rubbing my ass against his crotch. He palms my breasts in rough hands, kneading them and groaning as he moves his hips against me.
“I could spend all night doing this,” he murmurs, but then he releases me abruptly and I can hear the sound of his zipper coming down. He could spend all night doing this, but he’s not going to because he knows that temporary is the only option for us. Cat could be here at any moment. Hell, the mafia could be here at any moment. “Instead, we’re just gonna fuck and forget all about it.” Sin sounds almost sad when he says it, but he doesn’t give me any time to respond. His cock teases my folds, sliding against me and making me groan, my nails digging into the bed.
When he puts the tip to my aching core and pushes in, it’s a much slower, easier motion than Grainger’s thrust. Sin slides in balls-deep, gripping my hips for support. Sensations roll through me, delicious waves of pleasure that I can taste on the tip of my tongue. That’s how good it feels, like every single sense is activated and on fire.
And oh, Sin is good. I figured Grainger would be better because, well, he’s an experienced man-whore, but both men know the strength in their bodies, the power in their cocks, and they know how to use it, too.
Sin moves against me, the rain outside the only sound besides the wet joining of our bodies.
He rides me hard and fast and dirty, and I let myself fantasize that I’m just some nomad chick, looking for a place to stay at the clubhouse, interested in quick, raunchy flings. My fantasy extends to my feelings, pretending that I’m whole and healthy emotionally, that sex is just sex, and not another drug I’ve decided to hit up.
My body buys this bullshit, and I feel myself tighten around Sin. Filthy, filthy pleasure winds through me, this wrongness that crashes up against my pain and makes me come. Yeah, more than anything my own fucked-up feelings are what bring me to orgasm, shuddering around Sin and tearing a ragged groan from his throat.
I come first, but I’m so wrapped up in my own pleasure that I barely notice Sin getting his until he’s pulling out and collapsing beside me on his back. He’s got the used condom in his hand, which is sort of gross, but I don’t care. I just stare at him, my ass still in the air, while he stares at the ceiling.
Shadows dance across his face as the porchlight flickers, and then goes out. No, no, that’s not ominous at all, right? But the monsters tonight, the demons, they aren’t external. They aren’t these guys or the mafia or even Cat. No, they’re inside of me, fighting for purchase. Tonight feels like a turning point, like I should hit rock-bottom, so I can either drown or kick off the stony surface and swim for light.
“Colton?” I ask as I climb onto the bed. When he doesn’t answer, I poke him with my foot. My body is throbbing, alive with need. Fucking two men hasn’t changed that. I still feel all over, tingles and prickles running across my skin like electricity. “Do you miss your sister?”
