Page 20 of A Sinner's Virtue
“Fuck, you’re adorable. Fucking hot as shit.” He undoes the button of his jeans as he pulls a foil packet from one of his pockets.
“You always carry those around?” I ask while that stupid jealousy pushes to the surface again.
Marcel smirks. “Would you prefer I didn’t?”
“No, that’s not…” I should have kept my thoughts to myself. Of course, I’m glad he has them. One of us has to be thinking clearly.
“Zoe, I haven’t fucked or even wanted to fuck anyone else since I met you.” He closes the distance between us, his cock now sheathed in the condom. “I don’t want anyone else. Whatever is happening with us, it’s only us,” he says, leaning in until his lips press against mine. Then his tongue pushes into my mouth.
I jump, wrapping my legs around his waist and locking my ankles together. My core grinds down against his cock. Marcel swallows my moans as he kisses me in a way that has my head spinning. It’s the kind of kiss you see in movies but never expect to actually experience yourself.
Chapter Nine
My body still fucking hurts like a bitch, especially with Zoe wrapped around me. No way in hell am I telling her to get off me, though, and there’s fuck all chance of me putting her down either.
Stepping forward, I press her back into the door, holding her up with my hips pushed hard against her. My tongue duels with hers, circling around her mouth. I smile against her lips when she moans. That’s exactly what I want to hear.
I want all of her moans. I want her to fucking scream this building down. It won’t be long before word gets out around town that Zoe Petrov is mine.
I still. Where the fuck did that come from?
Do I want to fuck the girl? Yes, more than anything. Do I want to keep her? I’m not supposed to want to. I’m meant to be fucking her out of my damn system. I can’t keep her. Nothing good happens to women who get tangled up with my family.
“What’s wrong?” The feel of Zoe’s hands pressing against the side of my face breaks me from my thoughts.
I smirk. “Nothing. I was contemplating if I should fuck you up against the door like… this.” I grind my cock into her pussy again. “Or if I should take you to that desk and bend you over it.”
I can feel her wetness dripping on me. It seems she likes both options. “And what did you decide?” she asks.
“The desk,” I tell her, even though the answer’s obvious, as I’m already tugging her across the room. I spin her around and push on her back until the front of her body is laid over the desk and her ass is up in the air for me. Then, lifting the fabric of her dress up over her ass, I squeeze the globes. “Definitely the right choice,” I grunt while admiring the view of her ass. Her wet pussy. “You sure you want this, Zoe?” I rub the head of my cock against her clit while waiting for her to answer me.
Zoe looks over her shoulder at me. “If you don’t fuck me, Marcel, I’m going to explode. I want this.”
Lining myself up with her entrance, I slowly slide inside her. When I bottom out, I pause before sliding back out and pushing back in. Keeping my movements purposely slow. Partly because my body fucking hurts, but mostly because I want this to last. Her cunt wrapped around my cock is the best fucking thing I’ve ever felt.
All week I’ve been telling myself that I made up how good she feels. I didn’t. It’s real. She’s real and the way she feels is fucking real.
Zoe pushes back against me as I glide inside her again. My hands tighten on her hips, holding her in place. This isn’t her show. It’s mine. I’m in control. This ain’t no diplomacy. I’m running a damn dictatorship, and I’ll be the only one to decide how I fuck her.
I make my movements even slower. Softer. Zoe growls—literally growls—as she tries to thrust her hips. She turns to glare at me from over her shoulder again. “Marcel, you’re torturing me.”
“Babe, this isn’t me torturing you. This is me savouring every second I get to spend inside this tight fucking cunt of yours.” I pick up my pace, wrapping her ponytail in my fist as I pull her head up off the table while arching her back. “So. Fucking. Good,” I growl with each forward drive of my hips.
“Oh god!” Zoe screams. I drop her hair and move my hand around to cover her mouth, muffling the noises coming out of her. As much as I love hearing her scream, I don’t need the whole fucking campus to hear her too.
I quicken my thrusts again, driving into her harder. One hand still covering her mouth, my other gripping her hip. I can feel it, my impending orgasm. But I need her to come first. I’ll never allow myself to finish before her—that’s just ungentlemanly.
“I want you coming all over my cock, Zoe. I need you to come for me,” I tell her as I slide my hand from her hip, down to her cunt, before pressing my fingers against her clit.
She’s so fucking wet. It only takes a few seconds of circling to make her explode. Her teeth bite down onto my palm. Fuck. I don’t stop, though. I continue fucking her through her release and then finally allow myself to find mine.
I pull out of her and remove the condom, tying it up before throwing it in the bin next to the desk. After tucking my dick back into my pants, I grab Zoe’s limp body and spin her around. My fingers brush the loose strands of her hair out of her face. Her eyes blink open and I’m stuck.
I don’t know what it is. But there’s a need to take her home and look after her. It’s weird. I’ve never felt like this before, like I’ve just done wrong by her by fucking her in an empty lecture hall.
“You okay?” I ask as I straighten her skirt over her hips.
“Uh-huh,” she says.
