Page 24 of A Sinner's Virtue
“I know. And I am being safe. Promise.” I pause. “Iz, do you believe in curses? Like, is it an Italian thing?”
“A lot of Italians believe in curses. Why do you ask?”
“Just something Marcel said. It’s nothing. I just don’t think I believe it, you know?”
“Yeah, I get it.” There’s some shuffling in the background. “Crap, I gotta go. Baby just woke up. Sorry, Zoe,” she rushes out.
“It’s okay. I’ll talk to you later. Thanks, Iz.”
I set my phone back on the counter, then go upstairs and run the bath. I feel a whole lot better after talking to Izzy. She has a way of putting my mind at ease, making me feel like everything is going to work out okay.
It’s been like that from the very first moment she found me. Saved me. I didn’t think I’d ever escape the hell I was in, but she swooped in like my own personal angel. She didn’t have to take me into her home, help me heal and give me the skills I needed to enter the world again. While Mikhail made me realise there are some good men in the world. That not all men are sick bastards and only want to hurt me. The way Mikhail loves Izzy, so openly and unconditionally… that’s the kind of love I wanted.
After Flynn, I’d reconciled with myself that love wasn’t in the cards for me. I’m okay with that, but maybe I can still have some form of a connection with someone? There’s something there with Marcel. I wouldn’t call it love, but it’s something. I like him. And I like the way he makes me feel.
Once the bath is full, I stick my hand in the water to test it before stripping off and getting in. I let my body sink into the warmth and feel the tension release instantly. Leaning my head back, I close my eyes and the first image that pops into my head is Marcel.
Bending me over that desk. The way he took me exactly how he wanted. My thighs squeeze together, while the memory of just how good he felt inside me has my core quivering with need.
I let my fingers run down my torso, past my belly button. Spreading my legs, I run two fingertips through the lips of my pussy. A moan echoes off the bathroom wall as the image of Marcel, and his filthy words, plays back through my mind. Turning me on more and more.
Dipping my fingers inside myself, I imagine that they’re Marcel’s. That he’s here in the bath with me. That he has my legs spread wide and is thrusting in and out of me.
My thumb circle my clit as I pump my own fingers to the same rhythm I imagine him using. I can feel the orgasm building. It’s coming fast and hard. I scream out as my legs clench closed, my pussy convulsing as I come with Marcel’s name on my lips.
I open my eyes and glance around the bathroom while a sense of loneliness I don’t usually feel hits me. I don’t know what it means. I just pleasured myself. It felt good. And now the reality that I’m alone in this big house weighs me down like a ton of bricks.
“Argh, not today,” I groan while lifting myself out of the tub. I pull the plug and wrap a towel around my torso. I need to distract myself.
I’m not that girl. The one who needs people. I like being alone. I love it actually. When I’m alone, I can just be me. There’s no pretending. No feigned bravery required. It’s just me. As I am.
I’m not going to start needing someone else now. Even if the someone I want had the ability to pleasure me in a way I clearly can’t do for myself.
Chapter Eleven
If you can’t beat 'em, join 'em. That’s the motto I’ve decided to adopt when it comes to Little Miss Zoe Petrov. I can’t shake the girl, and believe me I’ve fucking tried. I’ve spent the last week telling myself I’d stay away from her while failing to do so at every fucking turn.
Which is why I decided to take a different approach. I can’t stay away from her, and as much as I love fucking her, she’s more than a late-night booty call. I need to step up my game and show her that whatever is happening between the two of us is changing direction.
When the door to her building opens, my eyes land on her. It takes her a few seconds before she stops and looks across the road, her gaze landing on where I’m leaning against my car. Pushing off the door, I close the distance, stopping right in front of her. My hand cups the back of her neck as my lips slam down onto hers. My tongue pushes past her lips. She tastes like champagne.
“Drinking on the clock?” I ask, pulling away.
“I just landed a huge client. Lucy and I were celebrating.” Zoe smiles up at me.
“Congrats.”
“What are you doing here?” she asks.
“We’re going on a date,” I tell her, gripping her hand in mine. “We can come back for your car later. Let’s go.”
“Wait… What do you mean a date?”
“A date. You have been on a date before, right?” I ask, then correct myself. “Actually, don’t answer that. I really don’t want to know about your exes.”
“I’ve been on a date, just not with you.” Zoe laughs.
“Well, we’re fixing that right now.”
