Page 4 of Lessons in Sin

My pussy clenches, throbbing with the dirty promise in his words and before long his lips are crashing down onto mine. He winds his arms around my waist, pulling me flush against him, while one of his hands fists my hair. He nips at my lips, demanding access and without a second thought I open them, moaning deeply into his mouth, his tongue stroking the flames of my desire.

I’ve never been the submissive type, my stubborn streak too strong to allow anyone to take control but with Tristan it was different. He wasn’t asking me to be submissive — he was commanding me to be, and holy fuck do I love it. Working my hands through his hair, I give myself to him, letting him take control. I press myself against him, one leg wrapped around his as I press my panty-clad pussy against his rough jeans - silently begging him to take me here, against this alleyway wall like two stray dogs overcome by instinct.

‘Please.’ I whimper, needing something to cool this raging storm within me.

I feel him grin against my lips. ‘What do you need Scarlett?’

‘You. Inside me. Please!’ I pant, desire stealing my coherency.

He chuckles, deep and satisfied, and nips my lips once more. ’Not here. When I fuck you, I want to be able to fully enjoy you and for that, I need a bed.’

I almost cry right there and then. The thought of having to pull away from him, this beautiful, devastating man, the thought of having to stay composed enough to get a taxi to his, it’s unbearable.

He pulls away slightly and rights my dress before raising his brow. ‘Your place or mine?’

I think of my dorm room, the boxes littering the floor, the two matching single beds, the Harry Styles poster that Katie has hung above her bed, and wince. None of it screams sexy or sensual.

Going home with a stranger from a bar in LA doesn’t seem like the smartest idea either but for the first time in my life I can make stupid decisions - something made impossible prior to now by the before mentioned parents.

So, before I can second guess myself, I share my location with Ruby with a quick explanation text and grin up at him.

‘Yours.’

Chapter 3

The taxi pulls up outside a complex of modern apartments, each one a towering architectural masterpiece made up of grey bricks complemented by white walls and towering, black-framed windows. Not a single pane of glass was lit, the entire building sleeping soundly as we stumble towards the entrance.

Once inside, he leads me to the elevator, pressing the small circular button for the top floor - the penthouse.

Old money, or new?

In films, penthouses were for the rich only – and in particular, the super-rich. But real life doesn’t often follow the romanticised version that films do and, in my experience, the penthouse goes to whoever wants it most. Middle class or upper, it doesn’t really matter.

Tristan drags me from my thoughts with a hand on my back and I’m grateful. My money-focused mind is still sharp, fine-tuned to the finer things in life, carved to what it is by my parents’ hands. Warmth seeps into my skin in the place that his hand touches, spreading like butter under a heated knife, eliciting a fiery heat pooling at my core.

The air in the elevator hums, our bodies like two stretched out springs just waiting to crash against each other. Finally, after a torturous two-minute wait, the elevator door slides open to reveal a lavishly decorated apartment and everything, absolutely everything, from the furniture to the crisp air, feels like it was plucked from an interior design magazine, perfectly calculated to entice new buyers. It certainly didn’t feel like a home.

Before I can snoop anymore, and peel back the layers of who this man is, I find myself being pressed against a wall.

Fuck yes.

His lips suck at the tender flesh of my neck, teasing little bites sending goosebumps racing down my arms. ‘Do you know how fucking sexy you are?’ Another bite, his tongue soothing away the pain before it can form.

‘Hmmm, I might have an idea.’ I breathe out.

‘Smartass.’ He chuckles.

‘Well by the feel of it…’ I say, pressing myself against his hardened length. ‘…I’m sexy enough to do this.’

He pulls away from my neck, the control in his eyes slipping as he takes me in. His teasing grin falls away and then I’m in his arms, screeching at the sudden movement, as he stalks through the apartment towards a door. He nudges it open with his hips and places me down on the floor before the bed that dominates the room.

Oh, this guy is definitely a control freak. No one has a bed this big, this commanding, without loving more than the average scrap of control.

His hands fist the silk of my dress before hoisting it up, discarding it entirely to reveal my form, naked apart from the forest green panties I’d matched to the dress as if something inside me had known where this night would end. I fight the urge to cover myself up, to hide from his gaze. I can’t imagine that would go down well with such a domineering man.

‘Beautiful.’ He breaths, tracing his fingers against the curve of my breast. Even the lightest of touches from him feel sensual, goosebumps forming in the wake of his fingers.

’Tristan.’ I whimper, letting out a shaky breath. ‘I need you. Please, God, please touch me.’

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