Page 131 of Wicked Sins

He groans when I reach down and squeeze his dick through his jeans, and finally gets the door open. We crash inside, the lace curtains snapping around us. Thankfully, there’s a couch in the way, and I fall against its back instead of cracking my head on the flagstone floor.

We’re laughing, and panting, and trying to drag each other’s clothes off without our lips losing contact.

Iamdrunk.

So is he.

We could have been gone already, away from this place. We’re risking everything, and for what?

Logic is a foreign concept right now. Common sense? Nowhere in sight.

We’re drunk with sin. Stoned on lust. There’s no right and wrong anymore—there’s just pleasure and ecstasy and bliss…and neither of us can get enough.

I’m left in just my underwear when he drops to his knees in front of me. He’s still wearing his shirt, boxers, and a lone sock. He dips his head, back arching as he rains kisses down my thighs.

But he’s too tall, and the couch is too low. Just as I grab a handful of his hair, he shakes me off and slides his hands under my ass. I squeal when he hoists me up, and gasp as he spins me around and sets me down with a thump on the bar counter. The cool granite clings to my skin, and it squeaks when he drags me closer to the edge.

He wrenches another gasp from me when he grazes his teeth over my underwear. Jo steps back, chest heaving as he stares down at me. Slowly, his gaze drags up my body.

He can’t seem to look away from my eyes when he’s done savoring me.

A gust of wind sends the curtain billowing.

We should close it.

We should stop.

This is wrong.

We should stop—

“Take off your bra,” he commands.

I sit forward and reach behind me. He rewards me by running his knuckles over the now translucent fabric between my legs. As long as he’s telling me what to do, I don’t give a fuck about whether this is wrong or right.

I’ve always been a good girl, but it’s gotten me nothing but pain and suffering. So I’m done. It’s time I took what I wanted, and if what I want is a bad thing, then so what?

Whatever I end up paying for this sin, it’ll be worth it.

We both know that.

“Open for me.” His voice is rough, his lips trembling.

Slowly, I spread my legs apart. Another cool breeze flutters in through the curtains. For a brief moment, part of the patio and the pool’s gleaming surface is visible. Light reflects like diamonds.

Jo groans as he pulls his shirt over his head. His dick strains against his trunks, and I can’t help staring at it.

“Show me that perfect pussy.”

My legs start shaking, but he grabs my ankles almost absently and sets each down on a separate bar stool. I swallow hard, wrack up as much courage as I can, and pull away my wet underwear.

“Fuck,” Jo growls out. He presses a hand against the bulge in his boxers and steps close enough to kiss my knee. “Touch yourself.”

I run my fingers down my slit, and even that touch sends a thrill through me. I don’t think I’ve ever been this wired. It’s as if everything is amplified a thousand times over.

Jo reaches into his trunks and hauls out his cock. “Does that feel good?”

All I can manage is a groan.

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