Page 505 of The Sinner: James

He keeps stroking me while I watch his eyes follow his hand's soft motions between my thighs.

Wonder lines his gaze while he explores me as if seeing and touching me for the first time.

As if I’ve never been his… Or anyone else’s.

He lifts his gaze, and my heart pounds faster.

Noticing my eyes, he takes my face in his hands, presses his body into mine, tilts my face up, and lowers his mouth to kiss me.

His soul makes love to me while his fingers gently caress my skin.

“Oh, James...” I murmur, clutching his arms, swept away by pleasure.

Our lips lock again, and the kiss becomes a carousel of crazy feelings, a journey we go on together, connecting the way we always do before diving into each to quench our thirst.

I slide my hands inside his shirt, peel it off, and wind my arms around his waist before hugging him tightly.

“James, my love...” I murmur in a trance.

His lips trail down my neck, his breath fanning over my skin, leaving scars of disappearing pleasure while blowing life into every emotion he had put in me the night we spent together in New York.

With this, he lifts every veil of uncertainty and slides into every nook and cranny of my soul, feeding my still-growing affection for him.

Smoothly, he nudges me to turn around, lifts my arms, and props my palms against the door before letting his hands slide down my back, the swell of my backside, and my thighs.

He unclips the stockings and rolls them down, peeling them off as if shedding a second skin before removing my heels and dragging his touch up.

With his hands, his lips come to me again, soft against the sensitive skin of my thighs, warm against my delicate folds, and wet against my entrance.

He covers me in kisses before standing tall behind me.

A metallic sound rings in the air while he unbuckles his belt and removes his watch, and then a quiet rustle follows as he takes off his pants.

He moves his hands around my hips and upward until they meet my breasts.

His breath drapes over my shoulders.

His teeth graze my skin.

His lips heal me.

His kisses melt me.

Rock hard, he enters me from behind, his lips not stopping from teasing my skin, his hands not wasting a precious moment while kneading my chest, arousing me, and puckering my nipples.

He moves into me, my center, warm and slippery against his hard length, hugging him tightly.

His hands ignite small fires across my skin, canceling out the coldness of the door as he rocks his hips, sinks his teeth into my skin, and kisses my pain away.

Arched against him, I welcome him inside my body, and before long, the peak of my pleasure sneaks up on me.

He thrusts harder and faster, his hand wrapped around my neck, my head tilted back, a whimpering moan shooting from my chest, a shudder barreling through me.

My trembling only makes him harder.

Once I scale down, he leaves my body, sweeps me off my feet, and carries me to the bed.

He slowly lets me down, wraps me in his arms, and rolls onto the crisp sheets with me. The back of my head sinks into the pillow while he hovers over me.

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