Page 60 of Taken By Sin

The moment feels suspended, like the world has slowed just for us. And for the first time all day, I feel completely in control—not of the car, but of myself, of this newfound freedom he has granted me.

I stand in his arms, tucking my head against his chest as we watch the sun set together.

“Can I keep driving?” I ask, wanting to continue making him proud.

“That’s my girl.”

As I slip into the driver’s seat again, I hesitate at the darkened road ahead. “Are you sure? It’s so… different after dark.”

“That’s exactly why you should,” he replies, circling around to get into the passenger side. “Driving at night sharpens your instincts. And I’m right here with you.”

I take in a deep breath; it’s no biggie. Just driving me and this man I am desperately in lust with on dark, curvy roads.

You’ve got this, Magnolia.

An ease of comfort overtakes me as the tires go over the pavement, gliding through the curves at a steady speed. I roll my window down, feeling the brisk, cool air filling the interior.

Sin leans over, his fingers trailing my inner thigh. “How am I supposed to pay attention to the road, Mr. Donati?” I stammer.

The control I felt earlier is flowing away now, leavingme with nothing but longing for him. “Distracted driving, are we, Ms. Finley”

Pulling my lip between my teeth, I try to ignore him.

He won’t allow it.

He’s so incredibly tall and angular, it takes only a simple lean for his lips to be on my neck. “You taste divine.”

With a little more force than was probably necessary, I pull off onto the shoulder.

Sin is just sitting there now, acting as if he didn’t just cause my entire body to shudder with mere words. He’s relaxed in the passenger seat, one arm draped over the back of his chair, his eyes on mine. The corners of his mouth twitch, like he’s holding back a smile, and I can’t take it anymore.

I unbuckle my seatbelt, my hands trembling slightly, and before I give myself time to overthink it, I move. I climb over the console, awkward at first, my knee bumping the center console, but he doesn’t laugh—his hands come up instinctively, steadying me by the hips as I settle into his lap.

“Hey,” he says softly, his voice low and surprised, but there’s a spark in his eyes now, something darker, more intense.

I don’t answer. I just lean in, my hands resting on his shoulders for balance, my heart pounding so hard I’m sure he can feel it. His breath hitches, and then my lips are on his: tentative at first, testing the waters.

But then his hands tighten on my waist, pulling me closer, and the kiss deepens. The world outside the car falls away, leaving only the heat between us, the soft sounds of our breaths mingling, the sensation of his fingers pressing into my sides likehe can’t bear the thought of letting go. And God, maybe I feel the same way.

I can feel his heartbeat beneath my palms, fast and steady, matching my own. The faint scent of him—something warm and familiar—fills the small space, and I lose myself in it, in him.

His lips move against mine, slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring every second, and I can’t help but smile against his mouth.

When we finally pull back, my forehead rests against his, our breaths mingling in the charged air. His hands stay on my hips, his thumbs brushing slow circles over the satin fabric of my romper.

With a quick flick of his hand, the fabric between my legs is ripped apart, giving him full access to me. I shudder at the swipe of his finger, long, slow, deliberate.

The gentle touch ignites a fire within me, sending shivers of anticipation through my body. I arch my back, silently begging for more.

I rock my hips against him, feeling his hardness.

His eyes lock with mine, dark with desire. "Tell me what you want," he growls, his voice husky.

I can barely form words, lost in the sensations. "You," I manage to gasp. "I want you."

A wicked grin spreads across his face. He leans in close, his breath hot against my ear. "Then you shall have me," he whispers.

His lips crash into mine in a searing kiss as his hands continue to rip apart my clothes. My breasts spill out of mynow ruined top, and he takes my nipple between his teeth, gently nipping as I grow wetter with each stroke of his finger.

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