Page 90 of Wicked Sins

Joah brings my hand to his mouth, and kisses my knuckle. The heel of my palm. The inside of my wrist.

Gentle little kisses I’d never have expected someone as fierce as him to be capable of.

Then he puts my hand on his belly and slowly moves it down. He stops before I reach the blanket.

I don’t have the courage to move it lower. I can barely breathe as it is. Joah grasps my chin and tilts back my head, watching me for the longest time, scanning my face.

“You should go.” His voice is thick and rough, curt even.

My heart thumps like it wants to break free. “Yes,” I manage, despite every cell in my body screaming at me to stay.

His breath washes over my mouth, and my lips tingle. I lick them on automatic, and his eyes dart to my mouth.

“I dream about you,” he murmurs, still watching my mouth.

My belly tightens. “You do?”

“It’s sick.”

I swallow hard, too scared to ask.

“The things I do to you when I dream. They’re sick.”

My eyelids flutter at those words. I squeeze my legs together, trapping the sudden fierce ache in my core.

“Tell me.”

His eyes widen a little, then he shakes his head. He moves a section of my hair out of my face, tucking it behind my ear.

That same fingertip trails down my jaw, over my chin, brushes my lips.

I squirm and move up against him.

I’m hot and tight, and all I want is for him to unravel me, to lay me bare.

“No,” he says. “You won’t look at me again.”

“Tell me.” Despite my pounding heart, my prickling skin, I force my hand down an inch. My pinkie brushes the blanket on his lap.

Joah’s body tenses. A puff of hot air washes over my mouth, and I’m forced to lick my lips again.

“Careful, darling,” he warns in a low voice. “That bell can’t be unrung.”

“Joah—”

But then his mouth is flush with my throat.

I expect him to devour me, to tear me apart. Instead, his kiss is light as a feather, a sensual tease that makes me ache for something harder, rougher, fiercer.

My hand delves under the blanket. I skim the elastic of his boxers, my fingertips thrilling over that satiny fabric.

He grips the back of my neck, and works his way toward my mouth. Electric tension courses through my body in wave after wave of delicious, intoxicating lust.

I touch the tip of his cock a second later. It fills his underwear, engorged to the point of spilling out.

My breath hitches, and at the same instant, he tears his mouth from my skin.

He snatches my wrist and presses my hand to his chest.

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