Page 8 of Psycho Sinners

Was he going to fuck me raw in some musty storage area?

We reached the landing, and I blinked stupidly at yet another door, this one needing a code punched in.

He stepped in front of it, blocking my view as he punched the code in, and then the door was being shoved open.

I had no idea that being pulled through that doorway was going to be the point in which my life was going to plunge into true darkness.

How could anyone know that?

3

SCARLET

Ibalked at the living area and adjoining kitchen I found myself in, the large warehouse windows looking over the river that Taboo Kisses backed onto.

The shadow-laden sanctuary matched the vibe downstairs, but this was more intimate, more homely, and the city's pulse was visible through the vast windows across the river. It screamed money and bad decisions, and a heat rippled over my skin.

“You live here?” I asked, my voice bouncing off the hardwood floors. Noms had never mentioned anyone living here, but this was clearly someone’s home, or a vacation spot at the least.

"From time to time." Cristian all but dragged me to the nearest black leather couch, the lighting in the area low and sensual. Was this planned? Had I just gotten lucky to be the mouse he caught tonight?

Did I care? I just wanted some fun, some bliss to drown my sorrow and pain.

He didn't waste time as he laid me down on the couch, his hands now gripping me with purpose before he caged me in his arms.

"Are you burning for me, Scar?" His lips grazed my earlobe. Was he seriously making a joke out of my pyro act? Not that I cared right now.

“Red hot,” I hissed, and that deep, dark chuckle had me tangled in all kinds of knots.

Then he was everywhere—mouth on mine, one hand fisted in my hair while the other slipped under my shirt. His kiss was a brand, marking me in ways that would linger longer than lipstick. My hands clawed at his back, pulling him closer.

My heart hammered at his touch, my head spinning from both his kiss and the booze, but I embraced the floating sensation.

"I’ll fix it for you, little pet," he growled as he pulled back, eyes dark as the smoke I left behind.

I was too drunk and focused on the raw need embracing us to care about those words.

"Make me forget," I begged, my voice barely above a whisper.

Something glinted in those dark eyes as his mouth pulled into a smirk that should’ve had me running from there. But I was trapped beneath him now, having walked right into the wolf’s den.

He dove back down, yanking my shirt and bra off before stripping me of my jeans and underwear. My mind was a muddled mess, a part of me knew the way he was looking at me was wrong, something dark and dangerous, but the other part was too focused on my desire and the airy haze I was in. I wanted to be lost in his attention tonight, to forget everything even if only for a short while. If he chose to use me, so be it. He wasn’t the only one wanting to scratch an itch tonight. To find solace in the sins of the flesh.

But he sure as shit made me forget all my worries as he rose only to shed his suit. As the material was cast aside, I could only draw my lower lip between my teeth at the masterpiece standing before me.

My gaze rolled over the tattoos that littered his body, snaking up his arms and claiming his chest in rich artwork and ink. He was covered in it, the suit having hidden all of the brands on his skin. Skulls, flames, words, and more, but I was unable to focus on making out the art as he sunk back down to hover over me on the couch.

His hands explored with a fervor that bordered on reverence—if reverence could be so damn filthy. One hand wrapped around my throat, squeezing just enough to send a rush of panic and pleasure through my veins. The other slipped between my legs, teasing my dripping folds, making him hiss.

“Well, isn’t this little kitty turned on, hmmm?” Those dark eyes flicked up to mine as I drew in shallow breaths, his grip on my throat making breathing difficult. So he had a kink, it wasn’t like I hadn’t been choked before.

I managed a small smirk, and those eyes flashed as his jaw twitched, the edge of his mouth quirking upward.

His hand pulsed around my throat, and then he speared two fingers inside me. I gasped, my nails digging into his ink-stained skin as he stroked my walls.

"More?" he growled, those dark eyes flashing dangerously as he hovered over me on the couch.

But this wolf had met his match, I was no fragile lamb. I was no longer caring for anything, instead, I was embracing being a sinner, an arsonist, and someone ready to make even more bad decisions—this one covered in ink.

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