Page 57 of Sin Like the Devil

“We’re going to have company very soon.”

Finding my waistband, he eases his hand inside. “Then you’d better come all over my fingers fast, shouldn’t you?”

Returning his lips to mine, he shoves his tongue back into my mouth at the same time his hand breaches the soaked cotton of my panties. I can’t help rocking my hips, guiding him to exactly where I want his touch. The frenzy within me is begging for an outlet.

Even if this is a bad idea.

My unstable brain couldn’t care less right now.

Raine’s tongue is a bulldozing force of nature, claiming every available inch of my mouth and stealing it for himself. It feels like he’s taking the time to catalogue every last corner, filing it away in his ever-expanding portfolio of information beyond his lack of sight.

I moan loudly when his fingers slip inside my panties and glide down towards my humming cunt. He easily parts my folds, his thumb circling my sensitive bud as he slides a digit through my heat.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters into my ear. “I can’t wait to feel this sweet cunt clenching around my cock.”

Delivering his filthy words with a sharp thrust from his fingers, he pushes inside my slit. My back arches, a hot sizzle of need pulsating through me. I want nothing more than to feel him stretching my walls and filling every desperate inch of me.

“Are you always this wet, babe?” Raine murmurs.

I’m so not going to explain my hypersexual state when I’m mid-episode. We may be using each other right now, but there’s no need to underline the truth.

“I don’t know,” I gasp.

“Well, I’m looking forward to finding out.”

A second finger pushes into me, stretching me even wider. I’m a panting mess of sensation, grinding against his palm as my legs begin to tremble. Raine finds a steady pace, finger-fucking me into a breathless wreck.

“That’s it,” he coos. “Ride my hand, Rip.”

Each time I circle my hips, he thrusts back into me, pushing his fingers in and out of my entrance at a maddening tempo. I can feel how coarse his fingers are from a lifetime of violin playing. It gives me a twisted thrill to have them buried deep inside me.

Just as the cusp of my orgasm begins to rise, the sound of footsteps approaching registers. I grab a handful of Raine’s t-shirt to stop him.

“Hear that?”

“Yeah,” he grunts.

“We have to stop.”

“Not yet, babe. I’m not done.”

Curling his finger inside me, he touches a mind-blowing spot that swallows whatever protest I was about to muster next. Raine grins at my loud mewling, rubbing his finger up against my inner walls to tease more moans free.

“Raine,” I groan.

“I want to hear those pretty sounds as you soak my fingers. Screw whoever’s coming.”

“We can’t?—”

“Shut the fuck up,” he instructs.

Skating his hand up my body, he clamps his palm over my mouth. Well, that’s hot. Each flick of his wrist causes his fingers to slam deeper into me, his speed gradually increasing as I moan and pant into his hand.

With my sounds muffled, the feeling of euphoria washes over me. I’m so close. When Raine dares to slide a third finger into my sopping core, the coiled band of tension inside me explodes.

“That’s it,” he says triumphantly.

I scream into his palm, my eyes clenched shut as I detonate. Bolts of lightning crackles down my spine, and my knees weaken with the force of my climax. I’m suddenly adrift, but vaguely aware of the doors slamming open and boots stomping into the gym.

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