Page 163 of Sinful

I stared into her eyes, completely lost in the colors, wishing I could give her the world. Fuck, what I wouldn’t give to be able to.

“What is it?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

She bit her bottom lip, her brows crinkled.

I wished I had our notebook so she could tell me, but it was in my bedroom. Not being able to communicate with her was hard. I wasn’t as intuitive as Ashes was, or hell, even Asylum/Mirage.

“I don’t know what to do,” I continued, reaching for her. I placed my hands on her waist and gave her a squeeze. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

I studied her face for a moment longer. Knowing the guys were watching me put me on edge too. That whole self-conscious thing came rolling back, this time about how maybe I wasn’t talking to her right or touching her properly.

All I knew was that she was my siren, and I was her Sinful. Past that, nothing else mattered.

“I-I want to,” she whispered to me.

My heart jumped at her soft words. I knew just how difficult it was for her to speak, so the action itself meant a lot to me.

“Me?” I crinkled my brows as I stared at her.

She nodded, making the breath whoosh out of my lungs. I studied her for a moment before coming to a decision.

Fuck it. I wanted her too.

My lips met hers, and it was like lightning shooting through my body. Her lips parted for me. I was done for.

I kissed her deeply. Tasting her. Touching her. Part of me wanted to take her fast and hard while feeling her writhe beneath me. But another part, a stronger part, wanted to take it slow and savor her in all the ways I’d dreamed of since I’d first seen her.

Carefully, I pushed the strap to her dress down her arm before the other one. In moments, her dress was pooled on the floor around her, her lips still fused to mine.

It had been a minute since I’d taken a girl’s clothes off, so I fumbled with her bra, knowing damn well it was Stitches I heard snickering in the background.

Once I had her stripped down to her lacy white panties, I helped her when she faltered with the buttons on my shirt and pants.

The moment my shirt fell open, her hands were on the hard expanse of my torso. Her fingers explored each cut and scar, her kiss slowing until she pulled away to examine me.

I swallowed hard as she pushed my shirt off completely and took me in.

I hadn’t been working out nearly as much as I used to, but I was built like a machine, albeit a slightly smaller one. Her fingertips traced over her name on my chest, her eyes drinking each scrawl of jagged letters.

Siren.

Her name etched and scarred deep into my body because I belonged to her like a broken toy.

I even said as much.

“I’m your broken toy.” I gave her a sad smile.

Her eyes met mine, and she spoke, her voice so soft I could barely hear it.

“And I’m yours.”

Fuck me, she was.

I hauled her against me with one hand, all while shoving my pants down with my other one. She was easy enough to maneuver since she was just a bitty thing. In moments, I had her beneath me.

I balanced myself over her on the couch, staring into her eyes, my heart so full I thought it would burst.

I was in love. Completely obsessed with every facet of her being I could wedge myself into. This love was a different love. Anything I’d ever felt for another person before had become completely obliterated. She was it.

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