He wraps me up in his arms and keeps me close as he struggles to catch his breath. I give him as much time as he needs, pushing his shirt up and stroking a finger across his lower abs. Lazy, drifting motions that slow and then still as I start to fall asleep.
I’m not sure how long we lay there together, but time ceases to have meaning. In here, together like this, it doesn’t matter. I’m alive because of moments like this, these soft, in-between lulls that reek of familiarly and comfort. This is what’s saved my eternal soul.
Sin clears his throat, exhales, and then swallows several times before he manages to get himself together enough to talk.
“Tell me something about yourself that I don’t know,” he breathes, sighing softly. His breath stirs my hair and the fingers of my left hand curl into his sweat-soaked shirt. I want it off. I want his bare chest against my face, but I’m too tired to move right now. Instead, I stay where I am, listening to his heartbeat and letting the rhythmic quality of it soothe my frazzled nerves.
I think for a moment before answering.
“I never slept with Ryan,” I tell him, and I don’t have to explain who that is or remind him of that conversation. He knows. He knows because it’s been bothering the shit out of him the way it bothers me when I remember that time I caught him screwing a groupie on the hood of Gaz’s sportscar.
Gaz.
I make myself think about anything else besides my dead brother.
“You never slept with Ryan?” he clarifies, and then he laughs, this throaty male chuckle that makes me squirm a bit. “How many guys have you slept with?”
It sounds like a simple question; it’s anything but.
I consider how I want to answer that, but there really is only one way: the truth. There can only be truth between the five of us now.
“Four,” I respond, and Sin goes completely still and completely stiff.
“Four,” he repeats, almost like he feels sorry for me. But then he repeats the number, and I can see that he isn’t. He isn’t sorry at all: he’s pleased. “Four.”
Sin strokes a hand over my hair before rolling us over and stripping off my clothes. He slips out of bed and returns with the handcuffs—guess he packed those up to bring over here with this specific situation in mind—and something else altogether.
“Turn over,” he tells me, and his voice is darker than I’ve ever heard it. The sound makes my skin ripple with chills as I do as he asked, waiting on all fours as he shackles my wrists to the headboard in such a way that I can brace my weight on the chain of the handcuffs, keeping my upper half lifted.
That’s when I come to find out what it is, exactly, that he has in his other hand.
Sin turns the vibrator on and then slips it beneath me, easing it against the aching mound of flesh at the apex of my pussy. The buzzing sensation ricochets through my already sensitive body, and I groan, wiggling against it, unsure if I’m trying to get closer or further away.
Doesn’t matter either way because Sin is braced above me, one of his hands flat on the bed for stability, the other manipulating the vibrator, finding that perfect spot that makes my heart jump and my body buck in pleasurable defiance.
“That’s it, Gidge,” he purrs, rubbing against me as my body quivers and shakes, and I wonder if I’ll even be able to go through with this. It’s almost too much, all of that sensation bombarding me at once. I can’t take it; I can barely breathe.
The orgasm is like a tear inside my soul, ripping me in half, stealing my breath away. Sin grunts with satisfaction, keeping the vibrator where it is with his left hand and using his right to angle himself against my opening. He drives into me yet again as I’m mid-climax, and the feeling is impossible to describe.
Did I say I was being torn asunder before? It was nothing compared to this. I think I even cry; I might scream. Sin keeps the vibrator where it is, thrusting through my contractions, finding my core, and then releasing his hot seed inside of me. I’m pulsing so violently that I can feel his cum being pushed out around his dick, dripping to the bed beneath us as he finally turns off the vibrator and then shoves it aside.
“If you weren’t already pregnant,” Sin murmurs against my ear, kissing the side of my face with that sharp mouth of his. It cuts; it bleeds. And I don’t even care. I would bleed forever, just for the privilege of kissing this man’s horrible mouth. “You would be now.”
