Page 2 of Lessons in Sin

Tall, dark, and handsome would be an insult to this man. I don’t think there are enough words in the in English dictionary to describe the sort of looks that he possesses.

An ache begins to form at the apex of my thighs, desire curling in delicious tendrils of heat.

It’s like I’m under a spell, the heat in his eyes holding me captive. I’m unable to move, to glance away, to fucking blink. All I can do is stare into those steamy depths of heat and feel myself flood with desire. My nipples harden under the cool silk of my dress, desperate for those tantalising lips to be wrapped around them - aching with the need for it.

I see his gaze slip, drinking me in slowly - teasing me with his eyes. The minute they reach my hardened nipples, visible under the neon glow of the lights, his eyes flare with a different sort of heat - an instinctual, primal need.

I want him. I want him in a way that feels more desperate and forbidden than anything I’ve ever experienced.

He smirks at me as he lifts his drink to his lips, downing the silken liquid in one big gulp, before slamming it down on a nearby table. Pushing away from the column, he makes his way towards me, stalking through the crowd, ignoring every sultry look sent his way.

His eyes are on me - only on me.

He easily manoeuvres his way through the crowd, his gaze never leaving mine. I watch as the muscles beneath his black t-shirt shift with each movement, rippling with strength. I imagine them wrapped around my hips, holding me up as he slides inside me, and my entire body quivers.

I need him.

I take a step towards him unable to wait any longer and the scent of him crashes over me like a tidal wave - a heady mix of whisky and summer rain that sends me panting for more.

His eyes, now close enough to see the green swirling within them, are heavy as he looks at me. Without saying a word, he lifts his hand.

I take it without hesitation.

Tugging me towards him, he slides his arms around my waist, my pulse quickening at the feel of him. Placing my hands around his shoulders, I look into his eyes and suddenly, I understand that there’s magic in this too - magic that I’ve never found outside of dance.

This feeling - the one that only two strangers pulled together by fate can experience - is magic. I’ve never been one to believe in love at first sight, but this feeling that I’m getting right now? It’s making me reconsider.

‘What’s your name.’ His voice is deep, the feel of his breath on my neck sending a new wave of need spreading through my body.

‘Scarlett.’ I say, breathless. ‘And yours?’

‘Tristan.’ He growls and then his lips crash down onto mine claiming them for his own.

The club around us ceases to exist - the music, the dancers, and the DJ – they all disappear as if blown away by a sudden wind until all that’s left is each other and this thing between us.

He controls the kiss, his hand tangled in the waves of my hair, his teeth nipping and sucking at my lips until they’re as swollen as other parts of me.

He pulls away and I whimper - fucking whimper - which sends heat flashing through his eyes.

Taking control, I teeter on my tiptoes, but before I can even so much as brush my lips against his he pulls away.

I narrow my eyes as the corners of his lips curl up in primal satisfaction. Seems like he’s not the kind of man to relinquish control and so help me God if I don’t want to get on my knees and surrender.

But my stubborn self rears its head, scenting the challenge in the air.

Sending him a playful smirk, I roll my hips against his, just hovering over his jeans, never quite touching. His smile disappears, but the hunger in his eyes doubles. He watches me carefully as I dance against him - my every movement slow and calculated enough to drive him crazy without ever pressing myself against him.

I try to turn but his hands - firmly placed on my hips - hold me still.

‘No. I want to look at you.’ His voice is guttural now, clinging to some small shred of control.

I lean up, and this time he bends down to accommodate the height difference. Brushing my lips against the lobe of his ear, I say, ‘And I want to grind against you until you’re throbbing for me.’

He sends me a crooked grin, surprise lighting his eyes. I feel the heat of him caressing my skin before he whispers. ’Scarlett if you think I’m not already throbbing, absolutely fucking aching for you, then you’re sorely mistaken.’

He grips my hips and pulls me flush against him and I gasp, the full length of him pressing against my core causing my legs to tremble.

I’m so wet - leaking really - but I’m also not one to be one-upped so in a split-second decision I flash him a seductive smile and whisper two words into his ear: ’Prove it.’

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