Page 71 of I Am Sin

“The words, Diana.” I smile.

He pushes me against the wall, not gently. “Damn it. This isn’t a game. If that’s what you think it is, I won’t play.” He scowls. “I don’t play games with women. I don’t play games withanyone, for that matter. But I sure as hell don’t play games with women I want to take into my bed. If you’re not all in, this isn’t happening.”

My God, he’s angry. And I can’t blame him. Why did I decide to joke around at that time? Bad timing on my part for sure.

“Dragon, I?—”

He claps his hand over my mouth. “Stop right there. The only words I want to hear from that succulent little mouth of yours are, ‘Dragon, take me to bed and fuck me.’”

It’s funny. I grew up with two brothers and a potty-mouth sister, but I don’t often use those words.

Still, as they come out of Dragon’s mouth, they send jolts of electricity all through me.

He removes his hand from my mouth. “What do you want to say, Diana?”

I open my mouth, ready to say what he wants to hear.

But nothing comes out.

He nods. “Just as I thought.”

He turns.

Oh my God, he’s going to leave.

And I may never see him again.

Except that’s not true.

My sister’s married to the lead singer of his rock band. Of course I’ll see him again. I’ll probably see him more often than I see most men.

“Don’t,” I say.

He looks up at me, meets my gaze. “Don’t what?”

I open my mouth to tell him not to leave, but different words altogether come out.

“Take me to bed, Dragon. Take me to bed and fuck me.”

I expect him to come toward me, ask me if I’m sure.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he lifts me into his arms as if I weigh no more than a feather. A moment later we’re in his bedroom, on his bed, our mouths fused together.

I’d rather be in my own bedroom, but this is better. Even though it’s my place, this ishissacred space. Not my own. I’m not quite ready to give him my space yet.

But I’m ready to give him pretty much anything else he wants.

He rips his mouth from mine and looks down at me, his hazel eyes on fire. “This won’t be pretty, Diana. It won’t be gentle. It may hurt.”

“I can take it,” I say.

“This isn’t going to be a sweet and gentle fuck like you’re used to.”

I narrow my gaze. “Who says I’m used to sweet and gentle?”

He furrows his brow. “It’s written all over your face. All over your demeanor. It’s written all overyou, Diana.”

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