Page 112 of That Sik Luv

The sexual tension is palpable. Our hearts are both racing with the knowledge of how close our sexes are. A few layers of fabric, and the entire corrupt dynasty ends.

“I know what you mean, it’s like a chokehold,” I whisper, nibbling on the corner of my lip.

His eyes are drawn to it immediately, and his hand comes up, his thumb pulling my lip free of my teeth. I gasp at the sudden move, surprised by his action.

“Don’t do that,” he warns, his voice laced with something I can’t place.

My lashes flutter, understanding how it affects him. I see his jaw flex and his pupils dilate before me. It’s clear he can’t seem to control himself around the temptation that I am to him. I am his Satan and salvation, and this man can’t decide which road to take.

Instead, I lick my lips and flip the rest of my long, black hair behind me. He closes his eyes and shakes his head, the softest groan exhaling from his throat. His hands find my thighs again as his fingers indent my skin beneath the tights.

“I just...I just have this strong urge to taste you again,” I whisper, leaning forward ever so slightly to place my hands on the couch behind his head, my hips shifting over him in the process.

I can feel his cock lengthen beneath his slacks. He swallows, entirely aware of it, too.

“I’ve been wanting that, too,” he answers, gazing back at my lips as if imagining it. “I haven’t stopped thinking about it. That kiss.” He nods his head back. “This kitchen.”

His hand reaches up and cups the side of my face, his thumb stroking near my lips. Leaning into the embrace, I release a light hum from my throat. I turn my head and ever so softly wrap my lips around the tip of his thumb. I kiss it gently while his eyes stare intently with fascination. Opening my mouth, I suck on it before my tongue slips past my lips, gently licking up the side of it in a slow, seductive manner.

“It’s wrong of me to even proclaim.” His eyes flutter and his chest rises and falls between us. “But your tongue,” he says quietly. “It felt so good against mine. So warm and wet. Your mouth, so inviting.”

I’m hoping Aero is recording and not silently plotting out how to gut Saint from neck to balls as he discusses the details of our intimate kiss.

I shift my hips, rolling them slightly into his, my skirt tenting out so only my soaked panties remain sealed to his lap. I can feel Aero’s release still leaking out of me as I straddle his brother, and the thought has my body igniting with a heat that burns low in my belly.

It shouldn’t excite me how it does. I should feel bad. Guilty. Horribly reckless for my actions. And yet, all I can think about is how disturbingly aroused this makes me.

His other hand slowly slides up my thigh, over my tights, and his fingers finally graze the skin of my exposed ass. A breath of air leaves his parted lips.

Asses are his weakness. I know this much already. His hands have wandered slightly south before, and I’ve witnessed him correcting his behavior before he’s done something stupid. But here, in this house, all alone with his temptations...will his strength falter?

“I’ve thought about you, too. That kiss. This kitchen,” I admit shyly, pushing my limits. “Many times.” I bite the corner of my lip again. “In my bed. By myself.”

He stares blankly, as if in shock, clearly understanding the statement.

“I know it’s wrong, and it’s awful that my mind even goes there, but—”

“What were you imagining?” he interrupts abruptly.

I look down at his chest, absentmindedly toying with a button on his shirt, pretending to be embarrassed. “I imagined your arms around me, holding me safely. Protecting me. I imagined the warmth of your body surrounding me...behind me.” I swallow. “Above me.” I take a breath and continue in a soft, sensual tone. “I imagined the weight of you crashing down on me. Gentle hands, slowly exploring...”

I close my eyes as a breath escapes me. My hand comes up to my neck, my fingers trailing down between the buttons of my uniform.

“What else?” he says quickly, urging me on, his hips shifting slightly beneath me again.

“I imagined those fingers.” I open my eyes, dropping my hand from my neck to grip the wrist of his wandering hand.

Pulling it before me, I line our palms together between us, his eyes following my every move.

“Those strong, large hands wandering places they shouldn’t. Touching me where I’ve been taught not to touch, and making my body come alive in a way I’ve never known.”

Without warning, Saint’s palm drops from mine, and he grips my wrist. His fingers tighten around me with a painful squeeze, and his hard eyes lock onto mine. I gasp at the move, and his nostrils flare. I’m unsure of his intentions for the moment, but I assume he’s putting a stop to this, knowing he’s likely coming to his senses. But his grip softens, and he finally blinks, those lust-darkened eyes finding me again.

“Show me,” he demands.

My eyebrows raise at his words, surprise written all over my face.

“Show me what you did when you were alone and thought about me.”

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