Page 88 of The Sinner's Sanctuary

His resulting moan is so loud, he pulls away, ducking his head like he embarrassed himself. I smile and kiss him just beneath his ear. “Yes. My place.”

He nods.

I’ll probably only end up on my knees again—or, God protect my hole—my hands and knees, but I’m not picky. I want to get off with him—bottom line, but I might want to come back to thisbar some time, and hooking up in this booth might make that difficult.

With regrets, I take my hand out from between his legs and swallow what’s left of my tequila.

Leaving the bar, I’m shocked at how bright it is outside—how high in the sky the sun is. We’re two blocks up from Gramercy, and walking with erections in well-fitted pants. Luckily no one in New York looks at anyone else—except for today where it feels like everyone’s staring. At me. At him. At our crotches. We’re not even touching each other, nor walking particularly close.

“Is it just me…?”

“No—they all know,” he says.

“You nervous?” I ask.

“Not even close.”

Our pace grows brisker, and I say, “You’re gonna try to tie me up, aren’t you?”

“Your place, your rules.”

“It’s like that, huh?”

“Apparently,” he says, sounding out of breath.

We get to the building in almost no time, and yet—it takes forever. Entering through my private entrance, we all but sprint to the stairwell. As soon as the door closes behind us, he shoves me against the wall and attacks my mouth with long, deep licks of his tongue.

I groan, grabbing him by the hips and pulling the full length of his body against mine. Our equally rigid erections grind—our hips moving out of sync with our mouths—like they’ve got minds of their own. I run a hand over his ass, gripping the muscled flesh through his pants. He untucks my shirt, hot palms moving to slide up my sides.

“This’ll be better in bed,” I try to tell him when I can get the rushed words out.

His head dips to inhale and kiss my neck. “I want you.”

“I noticed.”

Our hips thrust again, making me grunt while he shudders.

“I don’t even know who the fuck I am anymore.”

He keeps saying things like that, but it’s not subtle to me. Not only that he wants me or is attracted to me for whatever reason, but he needs way more than a pet to purr against his leg or offer herself to him passively. He needs to be felt and kissed and handled with want as naked as his own, and right now, I’ve got that covered.

He turns methe fuck on. Drunk or sober, behind his desk or slumped back in a booth—he makes my heart beat faster—and it’s not fading with repetition. It’s only getting more intense to the point where I could barely look at him today when we were supposed to be working. Every move I make reminds me of last night—my backside is still on fire—my asshole aches and keeps twitching randomly, and each twitch puts a thrum in my balls that makes me warm andneedy.

“Get off me so I can fuck you.”

“Christian,” he sighs against my throat.

Letting his ass go, I move my hands up his back and give his shoulder blades a squeeze. I like it when he says my name like that. Like I’ve got something no one else can give him—or won’t.

But I’m fucking happy to.

I get him moving again. We make it into my apartment where I have to stop him from pulling my clothes off at the door. His face is flushed, and his eyes are wild, roaming all over me.

“Bed,” I tell him.

“Fine.” He grabs me by the neck and drags me in that direction, attaching his mouth to mine along the way.

I shove the jacket off his shoulders and loosen his tie the rest of the way. He’s wasting no time, going straight for my belt buckle. At the foot of the bed, we finish undressing each other in a hurry, a tangle of arms and rough kisses—gropes and grunts of appreciation.

---