Page 170 of Of Sins and Sacrifice

He leans into me, nuzzling his nose against my neck and taking in a deep breath. My instincts tell me to squirm away, but his hold is firm.

“What are you doing?” I ask, trying to wiggle out of his grasp.

“Stay still,” he demands, inhaling me once more. “You smell divine.”

“Thanks…I think. Now let go.”

“No.” His grip tightens around me. “Your scent helps me forget about the unbearable stench of this cell.”

I roll my eyes, mentally blaming him for our current predicament.

As I continue to shift my weight, attempting to break free, he responds by holding on to me even tighter.

“Stop moving,” he growls in a low, primal voice.

My movements freeze and I gulp nervously.

“You…you…” I stammer as the hardness of him presses against my backside. A blush creeps up my neck as a shiver runs through my body. “H-how can you…” I squeeze my eyes shut. “How can you be aroused in this situation?”

“I have no control over it,” he whispers in my ear.

A shiver runs down my spine, but this time it’s not from the biting cold. The intense heat emanating from his hardness seeps through the thin material of my dress, making me acutely aware of every inch of him as a person and as a male.

Strong. Virile. Hard.

It awakens something deep within me, a primal desire that I had long buried and thought did not exist.

Despite his laid-back personality and constant joking and teasing, there is an undeniable masculinity about him that calls to my hidden femininity and makes me crave to submit to him.

It’s outrageous. It’s terrifying.

But somehow, all the walls I’ve built around myself seem to crumble in his presence.

“You need to control yourself,” I croak out, though my stomach is filled with jittery knots and I can barely speak without stuttering.

He simply smiles against my skin, sending a rush of warmth through my body.

“How can I when you’re near?” he responds playfully.

“Mine!” I squeal when he presses even closer, his body molding perfectly against mine. “Can’t your…your…male part understand that we’re in a filthy jail cell?”

“It doesn’t matter.” He chuckles. “You’re here.”

“Well, tell it to behave. I can’t focus with…with it pressing into my back.”

“It won’t listen to me,” he says with a mischievous glint in his eye. “It’s completely enthralled by you.”

The thought is both thrilling and unnerving. But now is not the time for such thoughts.

I wiggle more and he lets out a muffled groan.

“Stop moving.”

“Why?” I ask innocently.

“You’re torturing me.”

“You’re torturing yourself with impure thoughts while we’re in this situation—that you caused, too.”

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