Page 25 of King of Sinners

It smells like him still or at least his laundry detergent, and the fabric is so soft. But more than either of those, I know it makes me feel closer to him. This shirt was on his body and now it’s on mine.

He sees me and stops, his eyes running up my body. “I did buy you night clothes.”

“I know. I unpacked them in the closet. Thank you.”

“And yet you continue to wear my shirt.”

I look down, my hands running over the fabric. “It’s very comfortable.”

“You cleaned up the kitchen. I have a woman who does that, you know.”

Did he? She must be very discreet. “I don’t like leaving messes.”

“I know,” he answers, moving closer. He’s in nothing but sweatpants again that sit low on his hips revealing a wealth of rippling abs. The sway of his body is even more fluidly beautiful in that animalistic way than when he’s wearing a suit. I lick my lips and then swallow down a lump.

He stops in front of me, close enough that I could run my hand over his rippling stomach. I have the same feeling that I might be willing to beg him if he’d just kiss me again like he did last night.

He collects up my hair in one hand, letting the strands slip though his fingers. “I hate the idea of changing the color, but we can go with a long bob and a sweep of side bangs to give you a different look.”

“Did you just say sweep of side bangs?” Who was this man?

He smiles. “You’ve got a great deal of natural grace and the sort of looks that make you easy to transform.”

I still can’t believe he is going to pass me off as his live-in girlfriend. Make it look like I couldn’t be that waitress in the alley because I’ve been here for some time, living with him. Sleeping with him… The very fiction of it has me heating in all the right places.

“Sounds good to me,” I answer.

His brow cocks as he twists the strands around his hand. “No complaint? Most women don’t like a man telling her what to do with her hair.”

“I trust your judgment.” I mean the words. More and more.

He pulls on my hair the slightest bit. More tension than anything else. It’s not hard and since he’s holding all the hair, it doesn’t hurt. In fact, it feels a bit more like a massage. But my chin lifts as my head tips back at his silent command.

He’s so close that I can feel his heat and I spread my hands out on his stomach, loving the brush of his skin under my fingers, the ridges of his body.

He pulls a little harder, leaning down into my ear. “If we’re cutting most of this off, this is my only chance.”

“You’d better do it right, then.” I say, not afraid in the least. My whole life has been tinged with a lot of pain.

It would be nice to have that mixed with some pleasure. And having my hair pulled turns out to be one of those things that has a whole lot of good.

I know it’s so dominant, but in this, I trust Mason. He’d never push me past where I want. Hell, even last night he wouldn’t touch me because he could sense my fear. He’s a man of impeccable control, which means I can be whomever I want with this man and know that I am safe.

That is intoxicating.

He’s still pulling, my neck completely exposed, and his mouth finds that spot where my pulse thrums. I don’t even hesitate, I tilt my head to the side, making the hair pull harder but also giving him more access.

He makes the most satisfied sound as he kisses my skin, his tongue darting out to taste me.

Now I’m the one making sounds. A breathy little moan escapes my lips as I throb with a desire I never even dreamed existed inside of me. And all from a bit of hair pulling.

His other hand slides down my back, over my ass, giving it a generous squeeze before he’s reaching lower, his hand skimming down the back of my leg to hook behind my knee and place my leg around his waist.

When he does….

His hard-on presses right into my throbbing seam and I gasp at just how good it feels. His lips are climbing up my neck like he’s devouring my skin and I want him to kiss me so bad but also…I haven’t brushed my teeth.

He senses the moment I stiffen. It must have been near imperceptible but he’s easing back.

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