Page 90 of Never Die for a Sinner
“Fine, baby girl. You win. Next time, I’ll use silk.”
“Next time,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes, but I can see her cheeks flame, remembering it.
I wrap each wrist in a new, clean bandage, making sure it’s tight enough that she won’t rip it off in the middle of the night, before I cap the cream and slide it back into her nightstand. When I’m done, there’s a heavy silence in the air, like something between us has shifted.
“Next time you’ll be begging me to tie you up,” I smirk, my finger sliding up her thigh. She shivers, shifting, but she doesn’t pull away. “I didn’t realize how hard you were pulling when you were begging me to fuck you.”
“I didn’tbeg,” she argues.
“Why are you so afraid to admit you enjoyed it?” She doesn’t respond. “Why are you ashamed?”
“Because I shouldn’t have enjoyed it.”
“Why not?”
“Maybe because it makes me feel like a whore,” she snaps, and the ringing silence that follows is loud.
Abruptly, I lean over her, forcing her back into the mattress. She stares at me wide-eyed and confused, and so fucking sweet.
My fingers wrap around her throat, and now that I have her attention, I bring her gaze to mine.
“Let’s get one thing straight, sweetheart,” I murmur darkly, my lips hovering over hers.
Fuck, what is it about this girl that makes me lose my damned control?
“Nothing about what I will ever do to you makes you a whore. Liking to be tied up and pushed to the edge doesn’t make you a whore. Getting off on my spanking that perfect little ass doesn’t make you a whore. And liking sexdefinitelydoesn’t make you a whore.”
She’s speechless, and her throat bobs under my hand with a rough swallow.
“So don’t ever let me hear you call yourself that again. Not unless I’m buried inside you, making you scream it for me before I’ll let you come. Understood?”
Her lashes flutter when I tighten my hold ever so slightly, and she finally nods.
“Let me hear you.”
“Yes,” she breathes. When she opens her eyes, they’re full of something different that she’s trying to fight. Something I don’t think either of us is ready to acknowledge.
“Good girl.”
I chuckle, pulling back enough to look down the length of her body. I’m so fucking hard.
“What is it about you that is so fucking addicting?”
My hands roam down her sides, over the soft skin of her ribcage, and then lower, to her hips, where I knead the flesh and tug her closer until she’s settled right between my legs.
Her eyes grow wide, her breathing shallow in the space between us. My cock is so fucking hard, but even I know she’s sore after last night.
Her lips hover inches from mine, and I swear I can feel her heart beating where I’m touching her. It’s fast. Like a hare, and I raise my fingertips to her throat, just to feel the steady pulse that proves my little ghost wants me more than she’d ever be willing to let on.
“Your pulse is racing, baby girl,” I breathe, my lips quirking up at the corners in a smirk.
Her tongue darts out to lick her lips, her soft green eyes wide.
Fucking hell, those eyes.
Those eyes could make me do shit that should terrify me.
I move closer, and for a long moment, we breathe each other’s air. She looks from my mouth, up to my eyes, and my cock rages in my jeans to feel her delicate fingers wrapping around my length.
