Page 63 of Spark of Madness

“Touch me. Please,” I beg him, watching as his broad chest rises and falls.

He licks his lips like he wants to taste me, and I want him to. My skin burns for it. Rising onto his knees, he shoves his pants and the elastic of his underwear down over his hips, and I watch with wide, wanting eyes as his thick cock springs free.

He leans forward with a snap, and I sigh, sensing relief coming. He wraps his arms around my waist and hoists me up, pulls me against him where he kneels. He shifts to sit as he settles my weight across his lap, positioning me to straddle him. He holds me close, palms splaying across my lower back, making me arc my chest forward.

His lips are aligned with my breasts, and his eyes flicker with anticipation as he scans the swell of them above the fabric. He presses a soft kiss between them, which hits me with a swirl of relief and stronger need all at once. My head drops back as he kisses his way across my chest.

I wrap my arms around his neck, but I don’t need to hold myself up. His hold on me is strong and sure, heating me from the inside out.

One of his hands slips up my back, slowly working up the center, between my shoulder blades, then over my shoulder. One finger plays under the strap of the silk chemise, nudging carefully until it slips and drops down my arm.

My fingers creep up the back of his neck, sinking into his wavy hair. It’s thick and soft, and the feel of it in my grip is empowering…like I have a hold on him.

I exhale in a heavy rush as he toys with the silk over my breasts, easing it down, steadily exposing my flesh until he’s freed them. The cool air breezes across my nipples, but his gaze upon them is warming.

“How can a sinner look so divine?” Arlo whispers, almost as if he’s speaking to himself. He presses a soft kiss to the hardening peak. “So heavenly, so angelic?”

Another soft, almost sweet kiss, and then he runs the flat of his tongue over my nipple, sending a cascading swirl of pleasure down my center.

My lips part as I pant out a moan, and I struggle to speak through breaths of ecstasy. “Maybe…maybe divinity isn’t what you think it is.”

He kisses the hollow of my throat, trailing a line down my breast with a smug grin. “And I suppose you’d like me to entertain your sinner thoughts?”

“You’re already entertaining them.” I draw my hips back and rock them forward, my slickness spreading along his cock.

What am I doing?

What am I?

I feel wanton and flesh-hungry, as if perhaps I am the sinner he claims me to be.

He groans, his hands splaying across my back as he hugs me closer, burying his face in my chest. He takes in a shuddering breath, and I feel the way he fights against himself. I feel the tension as he tries to hold himself still, gripping me like his sanity depends on it.

Slowly, he lifts his head, gazing up at me with an odd softness in his blue eyes—an ethereal glow that looks like a cloudless sky, clear and vibrant, open to the heavens.

His gaze is heavenly.

His hold on me is spiritual.

The raw touch of our intimate parts is sacred.

To have him inside me would be divine.

I untangle my hands from his hair, slipping them back so I can cradle his face in my palms. I drop my forehead to meet his, holding his eyes with mine, breathing with him through this unexpected moment of connection I know I’ll treasure for all my days.

I’ve never felt connected this way—engaged, wanted, needed.His eyes tell me a million different ways that he needs me, though he doesn’t want it to be true.

He doesn’t want to wanta sinner.

I let the tiny ball of shame sink in my gut, let it roll through the coiling desire and mix with lust into a kind of need that feels filthy and wrong.

It’s wrong, but I like it.

It’s wrong, but I want it.

“I won’t tell a soul,” I promise him, and I think I mean it.

I shouldn’t mean it. I shouldn’t want to keep this filthy secret for one of the men set to ruin my life, but I know I will keep it for a moment like this.

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