Page 42 of Tasting Sin

“As you wish.” He climbed onto his knees, positioning himself between my legs. I was so ready to feel him stretch me again, but then he paused, and I gaped at him. Why was he stopping? “I didn’t think about this at the theater,” he said, sitting back slightly. Was he embarrassed? “Protection?”

I shook my head. “I’m on the pill. It’s okay. I trust you.” Did I? At one point I did, and I wanted to believe I could trust him now. I wanted to trust him.

It was like he could hear the debate in my head—or maybe he saw it carved into my face. “Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.” I hooked my leg around his hip, pulling him toward me. “I need you inside me. Please.”

He smiled, swiftly lining himself up at my entrance and thrusting into me. I arched my back, feeling my pussy stretch around him. He fucked me methodically, pulling out and pushing himself back into me slowly enough that I could feel each vein and ridge in his cock against the walls of my pussy. When he groaned, it was like I could feel that too, and I lifted my hips to meet his.

He wrinkled his brow, looking like he was restraining himself more with each painfully slow movement. I picked up my pace, thrusting my hips towards him more quickly, earning a growl from deep in his chest. With that growl, it was like he snapped. The semi-composed man was more like an animal—and I was his prey.

Ronan grabbed my wrists, lifting them over my head and pinning me to the mattress with his weight above me. I could feel the heat radiating from his muscles against my chest and my lips, and I wanted to lick the sheen of sweat from his skin. Instead, I screamed his name, ever thankful that the neighbor in the apartment next door worked nights and was rarely home.

“I can feel how close you are,” he said, speeding up. The clapping of our skin rang through the room, mixing with the wet sound of my arousal. “You’re dripping down my balls.”

He was right—I was teetering on the edge of oblivion, and I was eager to crash into it. My legs shook, tightening around his hips, and my toes curled. I became overly aware of every twitch of every muscle in his body, how with each stroke, I got closer to my release. When he thrusted into me again, the tension building in my core snapped. The room spun around me, and I threw my head back against the mattress to stop the Earth from spinning around us. It was like we had lifted off the bed, and all I could focus on was each intense wave as it ripped from my core and down my legs.

“Just like that,” he said, not slowing down. “Let me feel you lose yourself. I promise to find you when you do. Just let go.” He dropped his voice to a whisper on the last two words, and my eyes rolled back. I felt hot, like there was a fireball churning between my legs that was radiating heat to every crevice of my body, but at the same time, I shivered, and a trail of goosebumps lined my arms and neck.

When Ronan came, his body jerked, and his muscles flexed. I rested my hands on his biceps, feeling the muscles ripple while his orgasm rolled through him. I watched it on his face—first when his mouth dropped open, and then when his jaw and the muscles around his eyes relaxed.

He looked at me. “Fuck, that was amazing.” The bed dipped beneath him when he rolled onto his side, pulling me against his body. I nuzzled my face against his chest.

“I think you’re amazing,” I whispered, and Ronan tightened his hold like he was trying to absorb me as part of him. “Thank you for tonight.”

Ronan chuckled. “Thank you for going out with me.”

“It wasn’t a date, though,” I said, half-yawning while I nestled further into his hold. Was I reminding him or myself? When I zoned in on the sound of his heartbeat and the way it matched with mine, even the erratic beats, I wasn’t so sure.

“Definitely wasn’t a date,” he chuckled, running his hand up and down my spine. “You’re definitely my girl, though.”

Was I? I threw my leg over his, breathing in his scent and pressing my lips to my chest before I looked up at him. “I don’t know about that either, but you can fuck me like that again if you want.”

Chapter 25

Ronan

“Large americano, please,” I said, holding my card out to the barista before he had finished entering my order into the register. I stifled a yawn, thinking instead about Nellie pinned beneath me and the whines of pleasure that kept me up most of the night. It had been worth it.

When I turned around, Detective Stanton was standing there with his mousy partner in tow. “Well, look who it is, Ramsey,” he said, feigning surprise. We both knew he wasn’t surprised to be standing just out of the line but right behind me at nine in the morning. It was intentional placement.

I smirked, reaching behind me for the cup the barista set on the counter. It was the scalding burst of caffeine I would need to deal with the officers. “You following me, gentlemen?” I asked, blowing over the top of the cup before I took a small sip. It burned my tongue, but I swallowed the bitter lava and took another drink anyways.

“We haven’t seen you around here lately,” Stanton said, gesturing around the coffee shop like he needed to specify where he meant.

“I’ve been getting my coffee elsewhere these days. What can I do for you?” I took another drink of my coffee before I placed the lid over the top.

Detective Ramsey put his hand on his belt and puffed out his chest, but when I looked down at him, he still cowered. I swallowed back a laugh. It was always the ones with the biggest egos who were the easiest to intimidate. “We want to ask you about the increase in drugs in the area.”

“Why? Do I look like I do drugs?” I lifted a brow, satisfied when he looked at me and half-shrugged, as if it wasn’t a rhetorical question.

“I have good sources that tell me they’re coming through The Full Spread, and we know you Morettis have close ties to the joint.” Stanton lifted his chin, as if to reassure me he wasn’t scared of me. He should be.

Our arrangement with Nikki to keep an eye on her club wasn’t one the police needed to know about. There was nothing with our names on it tied to any part of the strip club, and there never would be. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Both officers looked increasingly annoyed with my lack of agreement. Did they really think they were going to get information from me before I’d even had my coffee? By now at least, Detective Dumbass should know better.

“Listen, Moretti,” Stanton spat, getting closer to me and drawing nervous glances from the young baristas behind the counter and the line of patrons who just wanted to get their coffee. “We know there’s something going on between you and the Cassidys, and I’m going to find out what it is.”

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