Page 83 of Sin

I back her toward the bed, my hands on her waist, her hips, the full, soft curves that haunted me through every meeting today. She gasps when the backs of her knees hit the mattress.

I break the kiss long enough to look at her.

“Tell me,” I say.

Her eyes are dark. “What?”

“That you still want this.”

“Yes,” she says, voice breaking. “I want this. I want you.”

That is all I need.

I pull her blouse from her trousers, and she lifts her arms before I even ask. Buttons scatter under my hands because I am not gentle enough with them, not tonight. The blouse falls open, revealing bare skin and lace, and my mouth goes dry.

“Christ.”

She looks down. “What?”

“You.” The word comes out rough.

Color rises in her cheeks, but she doesn’t hide. Not this time. She reaches behind herself and unclasps her bra, letting it fall between us like a dare. My hands close around her waist. I lower my mouth to her breast, and the sound she makes nearly drops me to my knees.

Her fingers slide into my hair, holding me there, and I give her exactly what she asks for without words. My mouth. My tongue. My teeth, lightly, until she arches against me and says my name like she forgot she was angry. I love that sound.

She tugs at my shirt. “Off.”

My shirt comes off. Her hands are on me immediately, sliding over my chest, my stomach, my back. Curious. Greedy. Not careful. I close my eyes because her touch feels like forgiveness and punishment at the same time. She kisses my chest. My stomach. Her mouth moves lower, and I catch her chin, stopping her. Her eyes lift to mine.

“Not tonight,” I say.

A flash of uncertainty crosses her face. I hate that I put it there this morning. So I kiss her. Slowly this time. Deep enough to make her melt against me.

“Tonight,” I say against her mouth, “I need you to know this isn’t about me taking.”

Her breath catches as I push her gently onto the bed.

I strip the rest of my clothes off with hands that are not as steady as I want them to be. Laurel watches every movement, eyes lowering, widening, then snapping back to mine.

I come down over her, and the full press of my bare body against hers knocks the air from both of us.

She’s warm.

Soft.

Everything.

Her thighs part for me, and I settle between them, kissing her neck, her jaw, her mouth. My hand slides down her body, over the curve of her stomach, her hip, her thigh. I take my time because I want to know all of her. Every place that makes her gasp. Every place that makes her tense. Every place she thought a man like me might not worship.

I worship all of it.

Her nails bite into my shoulder when my fingers finally find her. She’s soaked. My control fractures.

“Laurel.”

“I know,” she whispers.

“You’re so wet.”