Page 73 of The Wages of Sin

“That’s fucking right,” I roared victoriously.

I pivoted my hips forward, immediately plunging myself inside her depths.

It was true—I’d screwed my share of women in clubs like this over the years, but none came close to making me feel what Kiera did. The differences went beyond her soft curves and sultry voice. It had nothing to do with the deep brown color of her eyes and everything with the way she gazed at me with them.

The way she wrapped her arms and legs around me and held on tight.

The way she cried my name over and over again like a prayer.

I might have been trained for a life of crime, but I was still an educated man. I knew that people like me, people capable of great violence, weren’t known for being overly emotional.

Some would say I was cold, devoid of empathy, and therefore incapable of love.

But those bastards didn’t know what the fuck they were talking about.

Maybe my brothers were right. After all, I cared more about Kiera than myself. Her safety and happiness were far more important than my own. If that wasn’t love, then what was?

The sweet walls of her cunt drew taut around the shaft of my cock, gripping it as her body began to tremble. My balls tightened as the tension inside her grew and grew with every stroke.

I’d been with her enough times now to know how close she was. I could interpret every shiver that ran through her body and read the expression of ecstasy on her face. I knew to speed my thrusts when her head fell back and to tighten my grip on her hips as her back began to arch.

And when I felt her internal shivers turn into uncontrollable quakes, I knew it was time to stop holding back my own climax and come deep inside her.

And once we’d both managed to catch our breaths, I knew it was time to take her back where she belonged—my home.

Chapter Twenty-Six

KIERA

What was happening to me?

I barely recognized myself, hearing myself scream in ecstasy in the middle of a crowded nightclub.

Okay…maybe not in the middle.

Dorian and I had been off to the side, hidden away in a dark nook. With all the noise and frenetic energy in the club, I doubted anyone had heard or seen anything.

And even if someone had noticed us, they clearly didn’t care.

Thank God for that. I didn’t want to imagine what would have happened if someone had been stupid enough to interrupt Dorian while making love.

It wasn’t the embarrassment that worried me; it was what Dorian would have done to them.

Would he have knocked them out…or worse? Honestly, I was grateful that I didn’t have to find out.

It was strange to have my head filled with such violent thoughts as Dorian slowly lowered me back down to the ground. His touch bordered on tender as he helped me straighten my dress back, his open hands smoothing out any wrinkles.

“Let me fix your hair,” he said before gently combing his fingers through the strands. The gentleness of his touch was at total odds with the violence I now knew he was capable of.

Rationally, I knew the dissonance between those two truths should have left me feeling deeply uncomfortable, but for some reason, all I felt was…special.

It was an odd thing to admit. To know that a man who wasn’t just capable but talented at doling out pain found me worthy of pleasure was an intoxicating thought. It affected me on a visceral level, and there was no point denying it.

I had to bite my lip to keep it from trembling when he hooked his thumb under my chin and lifted my face.

“Come on,” he said, looking me in the eye with those sapphire blue eyes. “I’m going to take you home.”

Home.

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