Page 77 of By Sin To Atone

“What are you doing?” I ask, capturing his forearm.

“Panty lines,” he says, dragging my panties down and off.

“I’m not going without?—”

He backs me against the table, lifts me to deposit me on top of it. “You’re nervous.”

I nod.

“Relax,” he says and, keeping his hands on my pelvic bones, crouches down between my legs, pushing the dress up, my legs wide. He sets his hands on either side of my sex and, with his thumbs, draws me open. He looks up at me with a dark, hungry look in his eyes.

With that he closes his mouth over my pussy, and I gasp. My hands come to his head, weaving into his hair as he licks the length of my pussy. I close my eyes and moan when he circles my clit with his tongue, then nibbles it with his teeth.

“Oh God. That’s.” He closes his lips over the nub then and sucks and oh my God. His mouth is so warm, his tongue so wet and him sucking on my clit like he is takes me over the edge in seconds. I close my thighs, hugging his head to me and press myself into his face, moaning as I come, biting my lip so hard I taste my own blood.

When it’s over, and my knees are wobbly, he straightens, holding me up as I stand. He looks down at me with a satisfied grin on his face.

“What was that?”

“Me helping you relax.”

I nod, in some stupid trance as I shudder, coming down off my high.

“You taste good,” he tells me, helping to steady me once I stand. “Sweet.”

“Thanks, I guess?” What am I supposed to say to that.

“Ready?”

“Don’t you want to, um, brush your teeth or something?”

He laughs outright. “I prefer your taste on my tongue.”

“Okay then.” I shake my head, unsure what to make of this, of him, and wipe my palms on the sides of my dress. “Oh. One sec.” I hurry to the nightstand where I left my phone and unlock it. I make a weird face and snap a selfie, noticing how flushed my cheeks are. I start a knock-knock joke to Wren, telling her I’m going to sleep and will tell her the punchline in the morning. I put the phone into the clutch. “Ready.”

Zeke sets the light cashmere wrap around my shoulders and we walk into the hallway, down the stairs and out the front door where Dex is waiting by the Rolls Royce. I’m nervous. I don’t know why. It’s not like I care that I will probably stick out like a sore thumb. I have a feeling Society folks can smell an interloper a mile away.

But as I get into the car with Zeke right beside me, I remind myself that this is not a date. We’re going to see if Wyatt is the man who broke into my house to steal the laptop. Because that will answer some questions although it will undoubtedly raise new ones.

What will I do if it’s him? If he’s the man who tried to rape me. Rape. God. I shudder at the memory. My heart races and that ringing starts in my ears.

Zeke puts a hand on my knee as if he senses my nerves. His skin is warm, his hand solid.

“Steady, Blue.”

I nod, unsure how he realized where my head had gone. I’m safe, I remind myself. I’m not sixteen anymore. And I’m with Zeke and he’s not going to let anything happen to me. He promised me that and I believe him.

“So do you know everyone there?” I ask once the shrill pitch in my ears settles into a low, manageable hum.

“Know them and don’t like them. Not that they like me or my brother much. I don’t give off warm fuzzies, remember?”

“Why don’t they like you? I thought you were all, I don’t know, connected or bonded or something through your Secret Society secretness.”

He snorts. “Our Secret Society secretness?”

I shrug a shoulder. “Brethren?”

“Well, for one thing, my family, the St. James’s, were not born into The Society. We bought our way in.”

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