Page 90 of Sinful Desires
He sounded possessed, breath catching with every thrust, and he still held me like he’d never let go.
I couldn’t answer. Couldn’t speak. Just moaned, low and broken, my body twitching every time he bottomed out. I was dripping down his thighs, my cunt clenching, brain gone. He fucked like he wanted to leave bruises inside me.
And I wanted every single one.
“I was fine. I had control. Then you fucking showed up with that pretty mouth and that perfect ass and ruinedeverything.”
He grabbed my ass and shoved me down into the couch cushions, his weight crashing into mine. My hands were pinned above my head with one hand, his other wrapped around my throat.
“T’aimes ça, hein, ma petite salope?” he growled into my ear, every syllable soaked in heat and hatred. “Watching me lose my fucking mind? Look what you do to me.”
I flinched, trying to pull away, but his hand locked tighter.
Then his mouth crashed into mine, teeth biting down on my bottom lip so hard I whimpered, tongue sweeping after to soothe it.
It was too much. His hands. His voice. That filthy French pouring out of his mouth, low and mean. It didn’t matter what dirty thing he’d said—I felt it in every bite, every kiss.
“T-Théo—” My body locked and seized so hard I saw stars burst behind my eyes. My back arched off the cushions, hands clawing at the couch, eyes wide.
I didn’t even know what I was saying. Just sounds, curses, and his name.
He didn’t stop. His mouth moved lower, lips dragging over my tits, tongue sliding across sweat-slick skin before he sucked my nipple deep into his mouth. Then he bit down. Hard.
A second later, he pulled out and came all over my stomach, breath ragged, cock still twitching. His eyes locked on mine, and I waited for it. The regret. The part where he got up, zipped up, and pretended none of it had ever happened.
But he didn’t.
Instead, he cupped my face like I might disappear, then kissed me slowly.
“Thirteen years of hell,” he whispered against my lips, “just to find heaven in you.”
Chapter
Twenty-Four
“Moonlight drowns out all but the brightest stars.”
? J.R.R. Tolkien
Théo
“Studio’s only booked for the morning, Miss Harper. It’s two now. Any minute, someone could walk in and catch you gagging on my cock.”
She giggled and licked the tip clean. Then she climbed onto my lap, soft thighs parting over me, hands locked around my neck, her mouth dragging against mine.
“We better hurry then,” she whispered. “Wouldn’t want anyone finding out about our dirty little secret.”
“Dirty, huh?” I murmured, my lips brushing her throat. “That’s not how the press will spin it. The headline will read: ‘Superstar Scarlett Harper getting fucked like a whore by her bodyguard and loving every second of it.’”
Something twisted in my chest. I didn’t want to be her fucking secret. I didn’t want to be the man she only touched behind locked doors and blackout curtains.
No.
I wanted the world to know.
Every goddamn one of them. The press, the strangers, the vultures with their pens and polite grins. I wanted them to see what she’d done to me. How she’d brought me to my knees. How she’d reached inside the corpse of who I was and forced my heart to beat again.
She wasn’t just some superstar with a mouth that could kill. She was the ache I couldn’t silence. The obsession I couldn’t starve.
