Page 48 of Spark of Madness

It’s wrong.

I’m wrong, he’s wrong, wanting this iswrong.

Yet I part my lips and taste him as much as he tastes me.

If this is the flavor of sin, then let me be gluttonous for it. Let me burn in hell for the taste of it. Lust has me in its grips like a demon, sinking its claws into my skin and burrowing deeply.

His lips move, catching the corner of my mouth, my cheek, along my jaw beside my ear. “Your madness is spreading,” he whispers. “I can feel the way you spark sin within me.”

His hips shift and I feel his hard length press against me. I nuzzle desperately into his cheek as he kisses beside my ear. “It’s not the spark of madness you feel, Warden Rainn…” I feel him tremble as his body moves, rocking into me. “It’s—”

Sanity. Clarity. Divine.

Those are the words I mean to say, but he interjects with his own interpretation.

“It’s the Impulse. It’s because I didn’t satisfy those urges when I was meant to.” His mouth moves down the side of my neck, catching me off-guard with a wave of pleasure that causes me to whimper.

I find myself disappointed at his interpretation, but I know I shouldn’t be surprised by it. It’s what he believes; I used to believe it, too.

“Then satisfy it now,” I pant.

He pulls his head back and regards me with a desperate expression. I see the self-control flicker across his bright blue eyes, but that control is lost completely when my hips roll forward unintentionally, desperately seeking the same relief he does.

“Sweet sin,” he mutters.

He releases my hands and his drop to his pants, working with haste to unbuckle his belt. My eyes fall to watch as his long fingers work—the same long fingers he buried inside me and brought me to pleasure with. I sink without his body against mine, my back slipping down the wall as I bring my hands down between us.

This is wrong for both of us.

Yet the sound of his aching breaths, the sight of his trembling hands reaching to free his cock, the heat in his blue stare, and the pained expression of lost self-control as his lips part swirl around me.

He fills every sense, intoxicating me with his suffering.

It calls to me.

No matter how much I rebel, no matter how much I want to be free, no matter how much I question our doctrine and defy my unwanted role, there’s still a desire within me to please, to serve.

As much as I hate it, I want to serve him. I want to serve Arlo Rainn for the way he overwhelms me, the way his presence consumes my rational thoughts and steals them, making me a desperate servant willing to drop to her knees andserve.

Why him?

How does he do thisto me?

Guilt and shame threaten to grip me, to take hold of my mind, but I force them away. I can’t bear it. I don’twantto bear it at this moment. I want a moment’s freedom from heartache, from the melancholy and fear and pain. Sharing this sin with my warden is the only way to find that freedom.

My bound hands reach out for his cock, but he slaps them away.

“Let me serve you,” I say, my nipples hardening beneath my dress, breasts swollen and aching for touch as my chest heaves with each longing breath.

“Don’t touch me,” he growls.

He reaches for my hips, his hands latching on with a firm grip that nearly aches. He spins me around and slams me forward to the wall. I try to bring my hands up to catch myself, but they only get caught between my chest and the wall as he pins me in place with his body. I feel how hard he is as his bare cock presses forcefully against my ass.

“Warden Rainn…”

“Quiet, sinner.”

His fingers are gentle as he runs them beneath my long hair, tugging it back over my shoulder and laying it softly down my back. His hands fall to my arms as his cheek slips along mine. He turns his head to press soft kisses on my cheek, working them back to my ear. The quick switch to gentleness has me stunned, immobile, and it has wetness dripping between my legs.

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