Page 75 of Dukes of Peril

Nothing with Sy Perilini is an easy fit, but I strain up on my toes to press a kiss to his sweaty neck, delighting in the way those bulging muscles of his go tense. “I’m willing to give it a try.”

Spoiler:We need a bigger shower.

I try not to stare.

I swear, I do.

But Sy scrubs the shampoo through his hair, and he doesn’t even pretend. He let me wash first, content to lean back against the wall and watch, his fingers reaching out to occasionally catch my hip, steadying me as I navigated the tight space.

“Jesus.” His eyes slither up and down greedily, pausing darkly on my tits. “You have the perfect body, you know that?”

My cheeks have probably been red since Remy left, but I still feel a flash of heat rising to my face. I’m not used to having Sy like this. In the past, everything sexual between us was aggressive and rushed, or tense and full of shame.

Now, the low-burning heat builds between us differently.

I wait until he bends his head back, rinsing out the suds, to dip my gaze low, landing on his long, half-hard cock. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

He lifts his eyelids enough to catch sight of me, and even that’s enough to make a shot of lust zing right to my center.

Sy slams the shower off a second later, either not noticing the couple suds still trailing down his shoulder, or just not caring. “Let’s go.”

We don’t bother dressing after we dry off, my quick footsteps following Sy’s long stride through the main living area toward his bedroom. For once, we don’t see Archie on the bed when we step through, giving the bed a long, considering glance.

“This isn’t…” I begin, unable to deny the thread of nervousness taking hold. “This doesn’t mean we can–”

He stops me with two fingers on my chin, turning my gaze to his. “I know the rules,” he says, clutching at the towel slung low on his waist. “This is just… training.” A drop of water falls from his hair to his cheek, rolling toward his mouth, and I reach up to thumb it away, captivated by the texture of his lips.

“Okay.” I don’t tell him I trust him, because the words aren’t enough. Instead, I drop my towel, holding his eyes as I lower myself into his bed.

His eyes darken as I spread myself out for him, my nipples already peaked from the air against my damp skin. Sy eases his head to the side to crack his neck, restraint visible in the tendons there, jaw hardening as his gaze assesses the expanse of my skin.

“Okay,” he says, dropping his towel.

His cock is already rock hard.

He climbs over me, eyes fixed to his destination, which is why I don’t startle when his mouth descends onto my breast, lips opening to greet my nipple with his tongue. I arch into the warmth and he makes a low, rough sound, moving to the other breast. He palms me while his tongue explores the flesh, occasionally tracing over the dark lines of my tattoo.

I can feel how much he’s enjoying it, the lines of his face growing harsher and hungrier by the second. The possibility of him losing control in the heat of passion worries me, but not more than the thought of me doing the same. This isn’t a rowdy party downstairs.

This time, I’d give in willingly.

But that’s not what we’re here for.

So I do the only thing I can. I grab his hand, pull it between my legs, and wait.

“Fuck,” he sighs, fingers curling, but not in the good way. Suddenly he’s stiff, tense. “Maybe we should–”

I spread my legs wider, rocking my hips and clit against him.

His teeth clench, eyes sliding closed. “Lav…"

“I want it, Sy,” I say, coaxing him with another buck of my hips. “Touch me.”

Pausing, he reaches up, rolling my nipple in his fingers. “Like this?” A sharp thrill rushes down my spine, but I don’t lose sight of the objective.

“No,” I tell him, making sure I’m absolutely clear. “My pussy. My cunt. My cum pocket. My flower. My tunnel of love. My lady garden—"

His eyes fly open, jaw going slack, and then he starts to shake, laughter seizing him. “Yourlady garden?”

---