Page 68 of The Secrets of a Sin

“Then consume me, angel, take what you fucking are so greedy for, and come around my cock.” He begs as our eyes interlock and my arms circle around his sweaty neck. Now hovering over his cock, I don’t hesitate. I don’t even think before dropping down on him until he’s fully sheathed inside me. I rock my hips up, down, back and forth, savoring our proximity and the ethereal sensations that Arsen’s building inside my body.

He was doing this for me, but he was also doing this for himself. He wanted to prove that he could be submissive to me. That once in a blue moon, when the stars are fucking aligned perfectly, that I could take what I wanted from him, and he would gladly let me.

“I want this forever.” I groan as my tits bounce in his face, and my skin dampens in sweat.

“Forever and more.” He growls back, watching me closely as if taking in every movement I make. His grip on my ass tightens even more, and soon, I’m not the only one frantically chasing that high. Our thrusts became sloppy and messy, but we were both too far gone to care.

“Fucking Christ, Charlotte, don’t stop.” He bounces me up and down on him until the first signs of an intense orgasm strike my core. The wet sounds of our juices intermingling cause my pussy to tighten and squeeze around him like a vice.

“Ahh!” I start to detonate, letting his movements take over and completely obliterate my senses.

“That’s right, squeeze my fucking cock.” He groans as I lose it. Gripping both shoulders, I ride the wave on a scream.

Thrust after powerful thrust, I surrender to him. I let him fill me with everything he has and more until we’re one.

One person. One heart. One fucking soul.

22

CHARLOTTE

I spent the night with Arsen, snuggled into his too-tight embrace that I wouldn’t trade in for the world. To some, it may have been uncomfortable, but to me, it was warmly reassuring. He didn't just want me for the night. He wanted me to stay.

Forever.

Our relationship was unhealthy as it was twisted, but our obsession with one another was undeniable. We helped each other in that which we lacked, but it wasn’t just physical between us. We delved into each other's minds and implanted ourselves deep into the lobes of each other’s brains until our every waking thought revolved around us.

But was love ever going to be a possibility for us?

Was what we had already a form of fucked up love that we hadn’t labeled yet?

Whatever it was, I didn't want it to end. I couldn’t let it go.

Glancing over at the window, the sky was still dark, but something was on my mind, and I couldn’t fall back asleep. Arsen knew about my past. He knew about my addiction, the video of me, my weakness, and yet, he hasn’t told me his. Granted, Kurt told me everything at the funeral, but it wasn’t the same. I wanted to hear Arsen admit it to me. I wanted his truth, his emotions, his voice as he confessed everything to me.

But I couldn’t force him to tell him.

“I know you’re awake.” His arms tighten around me as I close my eyes and snuggle into his embrace. “What’s wrong?” He places his chin on the curve of my neck and buries his nose into my hair.

“Can I ask you something?” I whisper as my hands clasp the arm that’s secured around me.

Sighing, he exhales as if he knows what I’m going to ask. “What, angel?”

Taking my thumb, I rub along his skin, already starting to soothe him before he even speaks. “How did you get your scars?”

I expect him to flinch, but he doesn’t. Instead, he places his mouth on the flesh of my neck and gives me a light peck before answering. “I thought I was born into a loving family.” He sighs. “At first, I was. Both parents worked, loved each other. Just your average fucking family, I thought. But then something changed after Phoebe was born. They cared less and less about us. I didn’t even realize they were depressed until one day they both killed themselves.”

I try not to gasp in horror, but it’s hard.

“The only other family we had was our Uncle Joe from my mom's side.” The mention of his name has his arm tightening around me. “A piece of shit farmer who did nothing but drink and sit on his ass all day.” He grumbles. “He took us in with the idea of being his fucking slaves. Barely providing for us. We cooked, cleaned, and did everything his lazy ass was too privileged to do. First, it started with grabbing our arms when we messed up, but then eventually it turned into beatings.”

Don’t cry, Charlotte. Don’t cry.

“We were locked in a basement most of our time there. Showers, food, drinks, everything was fucking earned, and if you screwed up, you didn’t eat that day or longer.”

How could someone be so cruel to children?

“I couldn’t for the life of me understand why it was happening to us. I knew most kids didn’t live this way, and yet Phoebe and I had to. I was a fucking livid eight-year-old with ideas in my head that involved blood and death.” He goes on. “At eight-fucking-years-old, I wanted to hurt him. And I knew I was going to kill the bastard after what he did to Phoebe. How he defiled her body in front of me.” I can hear the anger that still resides in him from what he saw happen to Phoebe. It scathes my heart to hear him confess, but I needed to know why he was the way he was.

---