Page 65 of King of Sinners

I barely feel when he lays me down on the bed but my thighs naturally part to accommodate him and as his hips settle between the softness of my thighs, I feel the hard length of him press against my seam.

We’ve never been closer to closing the deal, but I have another question and I tear my mouth from his. “Mason?”

“Yes, princess?”

“If you take my virginity tonight, I can stay with you after? At least until?—”

“You can stay Charlotte,” he answers, his gaze drilling into mine. His hand goes to the back of my knee, lifting my leg higher and opening my hips to even more to him. “I told you, I’m not letting anyone hurt you. And here is the safest place for you tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that.”

I nod, feeling far better at his words as his hand slides up the back of my leg, his fingers only stopping when the tips are grazing my sex.

I forget to be afraid as lightning courses through me at his touch. Mason has always had this effect.

I’m a slave to the way he makes me feel and I forget all the reasons I should be worried when he starts touching me like this. But his fingers are only a light brush against my overheated flesh before they’re gone again.

I give a small cry of frustration, wanting more of him. But he doesn’t touch me again, instead, he chuckles next to my ear.

“Remember what I said. We only get to have your first time once. We’re going to take it nice and slow because we are going to savor this, princess.”

I circle his broad shoulders with my arms, sighing into his ear. “I know, I know. Patience. But I have been waiting forever. Like really, my entire adult life. It took me so long to find you and even after we met…”

He laughs then. “It has been a bumpy beginning, hasn’t it?” He traces my collarbone with the tip of his index finger. “And I know you’ve been waiting. But we want this to be worth the wait.”

Slowly, gently, he slides his hand up my body, over the towel, pulling out the tucked end and opening the fluffy fabric.

My breath catches as the cool air hits my torso, my nipples pebbling at the change in temperature.

His eyes fix on them and then be bends lower, sucking one into his mouth. I arch into the touch, gasping out my approval.

But not to favor one over the other, he moves to the other side, kissing and sucking his way to the already-erect tip of my other nipple.

It feels so good that I’m grinding against him, my legs locking about his hips, though the towel, still around his waist, keeps me from the contact I really crave.

He slides a hand down my rib cage and over my hip, settling his fingers between my legs. His touch is only a light brush still, through the curls and over the lips, but I shiver in pleasure wanting more.

How does he do this to me? My hands twist up in the sheets as he brushes down my length again, applying no more pressure and making me crazy as I thrust my hips up into his hand.

He finally increases the pressure even as he starts kissing a trail down my belly. One of my hands wraps around his neck, my fingers digging into his skin. I can still see the scratches I left last time, I try to ease the tension in my hand, so as not to draw blood again, but he feels so good.

“Go ahead and mark me,” he rumbles as though he heard my thoughts. I don’t ask how he knew, I just dig my fingernails into his skin, spreading my thighs wider to accommodate his shoulders.

His fingers are still sliding up and down my seam as he kisses the sensitive junction between stomach and leg and then moves lower to the inside of my thigh. Part of me wants him to give me the pleasure I am dying for inside, while another revels in these gentle touches and light kisses.

He’s treating me like something precious. He has been all day today, and it’s starting to mess with my head. How am I going to keep things straight? This is an arrangement born of necessity. He’s not in love the way I am…

I’m dripping wet and squirming against him when he finally swipes his tongue against my clit. With a low moan, my nails dig into his neck, a keening cry ripping from my lips.

I’m so ready that it feels like I could orgasm at any second, but Mason has settled into this light and easy rhythm that keeps me right on the edge.

I give a frustrated whimper, digging deeper into his neck. That’s when he chuckles against me. “Who knew that my demure Charlotte would be so impatient?”

But I don’t have to answer as he increases the pressure, sliding his fingers inside me so that my body tightens in the exact way I’ve been craving.

I’m mindless now, grinding against him as the first wave of the orgasm knocks into me, my breath exiting my lungs in a rush of air.

Wave after wave crashes into me until I’m so spent that I wilt into the bed. This was the mindlessness I’ve been craving all night.

But Mason isn’t done. He climbs up my body using one hand to rip the towel off his waist and toss it on the floor in a single motion.

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