Page 71 of I am Dressed in Sin (Death by Daybreak MC 2)
Only, his escape isn’t physical. It’s metaphorical. For as long as he’s known me, he’s wanted me to take a different path, grabbed my hand and desperately dragged me down it. For almost as many years, I thought I wanted that same path.
I hated the club.
I wanted to leave, to be anywhere but here.
If Sin could, I think he’d boot my ass out—whether I liked it or not. Because love isn’t about simply giving the other person what they want. Sometimes, it’s about denying them their sip of poison.
Sin, he cared enough to let me go; he tried to save me from him, them, this.
All of that, it’s the fantasy he needs to escape from.
He needs to land right back here in reality with me, in this dirty, gritty, dusty basement with my legs pressed together and his thick cock burrowing into me, soaking us both with my own juices. The rocking movement of his body makes my pelvis grind into the couch, taking care of my clit while his hot mouth traces kisses along the side of my neck.
Sin is sucking on my flesh, biting it in such a way that he’ll leave marks. The next person to see me will know that I’ve been fucked good and hard. The next one of the men to see me will know that it wasn’t him that did it.
“I’m still sore from last night,” I breathe, knowing those words are very like to enrage him, to stir up more of that crackling, red-hot passion. They have the intended effect; Sin pauses briefly, and I hear him exhale. He sits up slightly, cracking his hand across my ass.
“Fuck Crown,” is all that he says, and then he’s holding my hips and pounding me so hard that the sound of our bodies coming together fills the shadows of the basement. If I turn my head just slightly to the right, I can see our reflection in the dressing mirror.
His bloodied face. His dark eyes. The way my pale flesh indents beneath his harsh fingers.
His natural scent mixes with the ever-present smell of leather, this spicy musk that makes me writhe. Cinnamon and blood mandarin, touched with a hint of tobacco and cloves.
I stare at the pair of us, my wrists trapped by his belt, my legs trapped by his thighs. My heart … in chains. Shit. It hurts as good as it sounds, just like the crack of his hand on my ass again.
Pleasure creeps up on me quickly and mercilessly, attacking me with each voracious pump of Sin’s hips. The orgasm is almost painful; I actually try to fight it off, thrashing beneath him, hating and loving him all at the same time.
When it finally breaks, like a wave against the shore, I let out a sharp sob of relief. Colton’s response is to press his lips against the side of my neck and bite just hard enough that I thrash back against him.
Ruination.
We were both built for it.
Guess we get to ruin each other.
He works himself to his own crescendo before pulling out suddenly. I can feel the hot heat of his seed on my ass, dripping down my cheeks. Then finally, blessedly, he releases the belt on my wrists.
“You fucker,” I growl at him, turning a look over my shoulder that could kill. Sin meets it with one of his own, tit for tat. We need each other, me and these assholes. We all need to be tempered.
He stays where he is, straddling me, pinning me down with his weight.
“If you disobey me even once outside these walls, Gidge, I swear to god. Once upon a time, I promised I would never give anyone else a second chance. You just got it. Use it wisely.” He climbs off of me, fixing his pants as I sit up and look around for something to clean up with. Sin ends up tossing me an old t-shirt from inside a box.
It takes me a second to recognize it as one of Queenie’s.
“I can’t use this,” I breathe, and Sin very quickly takes it back, staring at the fabric like it’s as much a ghost as my sister is. He quickly finds another bit of fabric to give me and then waits while I wipe him off of me. “Let’s go,” I snap, yanking my dress back down. Sin picks up the panties from the floor and pockets them. Asshole. “Unless you think it’s too early? That clearly didn’t take a full ten minutes.”
He gives me this cocksure smirk that makes me want to slap him.
“Actually, it took eleven. We’re late.”
Sin moves past me, unlocking the basement doors and pushing them open to reveal the stark gray glare of the outside world.
Here goes nothing.
It’s time to see if my trust in these men is well-founded.
