Page 40 of Vows in Sin

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She gasps—sharp—her body jerking as I fill her. The slap of our hips echoes, obscene, furious. One hand keeps her pinned, the other threading up into her hair, yanking her head back so I can watch her face, flushed and undone, teeth dragging across her bottom lip like she’s trying not to scream.

“Good girl,” I mutter against her jaw, voice thick and dark. “Take it.”

She does. Oh, she does. Every snap of my hips drives her forward against the wall, palms scraping concrete, the sound of skin on skin a brutal, staccato drumbeat. I want her dazed, hollowed, entirely ruined for anyone else.

I give her everything—every inch. Every ounce of fury, lust, and want. She shakes beneath me, strung tight and soaked through, legs trembling but refusing to fall. She’s mine like this—marked, used, owned. And she knows it.

I’ve grown addicted to seeing her, to having her seek me out, to our dark, carnal encounters.

I step back, putting some distance between us. She senses the shift, looks up at me with those big doe eyes. I can see the questions swirling in them, the desperation for something more. But I steel myself, lock away the part of me that wants to comfort her, to tell her it's all going to be okay.

"You should go," I say, my voice cold, detached. I see the hurt flash across her face, but she nods, pulls herself together. She stands up, straightens her skirt, and turns to leave.

I reach out, grab her, and hold her in my arms, demanding one last kiss. Heat and energy flow between us as I swipe my tongue against hers. She clings to me like I’m her savior, and in this embrace, I feel more alive, more…real…than I have in…

Too long.

She’s too young. And I’m far too bitter. She’ll never end this. She’ll continue to use me.

And I’ll continue to let her.

There’s too much at stake. Jane broke my heart. This girl could break me completely.

I won’t make the same mistake twice.

“This has to be the last time,” I say.

She stares up at me eyes full of regret and something else. “I know.”

And she leaves.

15

Seraphina

I can’t believe what I did last night. Heat and endorphins linger in my memory, my limbs. I never should have gone to the club. I never should have let him inside me.

Sex.

We. Had. Sex.

And it was fantastic. He was powerful, dominating me, yet as he was touching me, I could feel a sense of protection over me, and the unsaid desire to fulfill my needs.

The orgasm that followed?

Tsunami material.

A secret smile creeps up with my shame.

I never thought I’d let him cross that line. It was a proper goodbye, though, and now I realize I need to let him go. To do that, I’ve got to get a handle on my emotions.

How do I do that? I think for a moment. The thing that sent me spiraling back to him was the call with my mom.

A little bit of my old Seraphina strength comes rushing back. I’m going to take hold of my life and stop looking to him to fix me. I’m going to have a do-over call with my mother.

I stare at my phone screen. Thumb hovering over the contact card labeled,Mom.

This time, I’m going to reign over the conversation as confidently as he rules me. And afterward? I’m going to wash the dishes that have gathered in the sink.