Page 46 of Sinful
“Josh,” she whispers so quietly, I almost don’t hear my name on her whispered breath.
I kneel on the foot of the bed and part her legs. There’s no resistance as I run one hand down her inner thigh until she’s open for me. Her breathing comes quicker as I lean forward, elongating my body, missing her pussy until I’m all the way on top of her, holding up my weight with my hands.
“So fucking beautiful,” I murmur. I’m trapped between wanting to devour her and to make this last all night, savoring every inch of her. I kiss her again, lightly on her lips, and when she lifts her head to follow me, I pull back. Her eyes search for mine, only finding darkness.
“I’m here,” I assure her.
“I know,” she whispers back.
It’s like I’m seeing her for the first time.
I kiss her again, this time on the side of her mouth, before moving my lips to just under her earlobe and kissing her again. She lets out a low moan as I work my way down her neck.
My hand moves to the underside of one tit. It’s perfect, just like I remember. This was as far as I got with her as teenagers, feeling her tits under her shirt. It never occurred to me to want to taste her. I only thought of ramming my cock into her virgin pussy at the time. I can’t deny it’s not still on my mind. She lets out a gasp as I circle her nipple with my tongue. Her hips move beneath me, and I have no doubt that she’s already wet.
“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought of doing this,” I admit.
Her breath stutters as I clamp down, ramming my point home. She bites her bottom lip, and I wonder what’s going through her mind. She can’t see any of what I’m doing to her. She’s guided by touch alone. I can watch her reactions to my heart’s content, not inhibited by her asking me what I’m looking at. Her face crinkles as I purposefully run my hand down her stomach and wonder whether she’s ticklish or just apprehensive. When my fingers find her clit, the tension in her features drops and her mouth falls slack. Her body starts to tremble with each move I make as I draw my fingers up and down her wet slit, then paying attention to her swollen clit. She’s so ready for me, it takes almost no pressure at all to draw out small moans from her. I wasn’t planning on letting her come from just my fingers, but I’m transfixed by her complete lack of inhibition. Her reactions are stronger, her face more scrunched up as her body quakes.
“Josh!” she cries out as her legs clamp together, trapping my arm between them. I keep rubbing as she buckles beneath me. It’s a fucking beautiful sight to behold, but it’s not enough. I don’t want her to just come. I want her to completely fall apart. Wrenching her legs apart and freeing my trapped arm, I move swiftly down and lick up her juices, thrusting my tongue inside her, fucking her with my tongue. She cries out, bending her body up and reaching for my head.
“Lie back and enjoy this, Sin. You’ve waited long enough.” She does as I say, but her hands come to rest on my head. I should have tied my hair back, but she grabs fistfuls of it, pulling me back, then forward. I’ve never had a girl guide me like this. The wordwhoredrifts through my mind again, but this time I ignore it. She’s neither a virgin nor a whore. She’s just a girl, my girl. I lick up her slit and begin to lap at her hot clit. Her moans increase and her hips buck up as she pushes my head deeper between her legs. She’s on fire. My cock has never been so hard. So driven. When I think she’s on the cusp of coming again, I pull back, fighting the push of her hands in my hair.
“Please!” she cries out.
I position my cock at her entrance. She’s dripping wet thanks to my ministrations.
“Please what?” She doesn’t respond. Her face is red. It’s the most color I’ve seen in her cheeks since we took her. “Please what, Sin?”
“I don’t know!”
I thrust my cock into her, making her cry out. “Is this what you want?”
Her face is red, her eyes clamped shut, a look of pain on them. Fuck. I went in too hard. Too fast. I pull back and she relaxes slightly. She’s so fucking tight. I don’t want to hurt her. Not anymore. “Relax.”
“I can’t.” Tears are swelling in the corner of her eyes and I panic that in my rush to know what her pussy felt like, I bruised her somehow. She wanted this. There was no fight in her, and yet her resistance now is confusing. My cock is pulsing so hard it’s hard to ignore.
“I’ll go slower.”
She blinks away the tears and nods slightly. This time when I push into her warm wetness, she doesn’t cry out, though her face is still pained. She doesn’t even try to hide it.
I push back in until I’m buried in her right to the hilt. She’s so damn tight that one word comes to my mind. I won’t allow it to manifest. I ease back, then push in again. It’s taking every ounce of self control I have not to pump away into her, but she needs it slow. I’ve never slow fucked anyone before. It always felt too personal. Like I didn’t want to get too close before shooting my load then kicking them out. It’s almost painful waiting, taking my time, but it’s the kind of pain that draws out into pleasure. I kiss her again and as I do, her whole body relaxes. I take my time, coaxing her, pushing in, drawing back. The tears have stopped how, but I can still see the rivers they’ve drawn down the side of her face. Even in the height of sex, she’s still a confusing mystery. And so fucking good. It’s no longer sex. Somewhere along the line, she’s turned it into making love. I lower my body weight onto her for the first time, no longer holding myself up by the strength of my biceps. When I kiss her, it feels real. This is what I missed out on all those years ago and what I’ve been missing out on ever since. When her hips begin to buck, matching my thrusts with her own, I take it as an invitation. I thrust harder, faster, and this time she works with me instead of against me. It’s like fucking coming home. My balls tighten and I come inside her with a grunt on my lips. I stay inside her, too spent to roll off. When I look down at her, she’s staring right past me at the ceiling. Not past me. Through me. She’s not staring at anything at all, I remind myself. She can’t see me.
37
MERCIER
“What the fuck, man? It’s not even light out.”
Dacre pulls the blankets from me and grabs my phone from the table before throwing it at me. “Unlock your phone.”
I rub my eyes and sit up. “Is this some weird British custom that I don’t know about, cos I think I’ll pass.”
“Just unlock the goddamned phone.”
I sit up straight. “I’m sensing some tension here. Did he murder her and throw her over the side of the yacht?”
Dacre growls. “He better fucking not have done. What’s he said to you?”
