Page 140 of Sin

Snagging the lube I returned to London’s side. “Change of plans,” I said, a little breathlessly.

“Change of plans? Wha—Oh.” His words turned to a pleased hum as I pressed his front down against the mattress, yanking those ridiculous pants down his legs so that his ass was exposed. I made sure to be careful with moving him since his arms were restrained, and then I dropped to my knees.

My teeth nipped playfully over one ass cheek, then the other, loving the little gasps he made. When my hands palmed his ass, spreading his cheeks wider, he made a keening sound in the back of his throat.

“This okay?” I asked, my breath ghosting over his entrance.

He wiggled his hips, as if frustrated I was going so slow. “Yes. So please will you—”

I didn’t let him finish his sentence before I made a long, wet stripe up the center of his crack with my tongue. He buried his face into the mattress, groaning as I did it again. And again. And again.

When my tongue circled his hole, he let out a low whine. “Shh, let me take care of you,” I said, before dipping my tongue inside and groaning myself at the clean taste of him. “Let me love you.”

So he did. He moaned and writhed as I tasted him, groaned and squirmed as I used lubed fingers to work him open, sighed and melted into the mattress as I used the scissors to free him from his restraints.

London met my gaze in the mirror, his face a mask of debauchery and abandon. As I grabbed the lube once more, I asked, “What do you want?”

Because I needed him to say it again. Needed it not only for assurance, but because I loved the way he sounded when he begged.

“Please, Sin,” he said, voice ragged. “I want your cock inside me.”

Slicking my cock with lube, I held his stare as I slowly, so, so slowly, entered him. His eyes rolled back, and his back arched. And by the time I was fully seated, he was a sweaty, babbling mess.

“Does it feel okay?” I asked, reaching down to wrap my hand around the front of his throat. I pulled up until his back pressed against my front, and I could whisper in his ear while I watched his face. “Do you want me to move?”

“Yes, fuck! Sin, just fucking mo—”

His words shut off on a gasp as I thrust upward in one sharp, shallow move. Then another. And another. The entire time, I kept my hand on his neck, never pressing, but feeling his racing pulse, claiming his as mine.

I watched him carefully, eyed him for any sign of pain or hesitation. But he showed none as his hazy gaze stayed glued to mine. After about a minute, he started rocking his hips in time with mine, and his cock slapped against his skin.

With my free hand, I awkwardly squeezed out some more lube. Then I reached around him to grasp his erection. I stroked him in time with our movements, loving the way his ass felt clamped around me, the way he puffed pants of air against my neck, the way his hands moved all over my body like they wanted to be everywhere at once.

Picking up my pace, I tilted his head to the side to kiss along his jaw. When I traced along the shell of his ear, he hummed.

“I’m close,” he panted, looking in the mirror where my hand continued to get him off. “I want you right there with me.”

“I am,” I promised, feeling the heat licking down my spine. It curled and built in my stomach, and my balls tightened almost painfully. “I’m right here, London.”

“Then come,” he whispered. “Come in me.”

As if those were the magic words, my climax barreled through me, stealing my breath. I pressed closer, rocked harder, drawing out the intense feeling pulsating through me. London watched me through lidded eyes, absorbing how wrecked he’d made me, before his own orgasm took him. Streams of cum pulsed from his cock and landed on the bed, and he moaned, twisting to mold his mouth to mine in a feverish kiss.

As we came down from our high, our kisses turned slower, more languid. I carefully and gently pulled out of him before twisting him around and tackling him on the bed.

He ripped his mouth away, a grimace forming as he rolled away.

It took me a moment to realize I’d shoved him down onto the wet spot.

I laughed at his expression, and he rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, so funny. Now will you help me get this bedding off?”

“I’ll do anything you ask me to,” I said, climbing off the bed and helping pull the bedding off.

With the bed stripped, London and I crawled onto the bed, lying side by side as we stared up at the stars. We were quiet, and when I peeked at him, there was a stray tear glittering on his cheek.

“Come here.”

He met my gaze and shifted so I could wrap him up in my arms. With him in reach, I cupped his cheek, swiping away the tear.

---