Page 120 of Sin

My nipples tightened so much they ached. I did as he said, presenting my ass to him while I held on for dear life. To his credit, he didn’t slam into me with no warning. His warm palm slid from the base of my spine all the way up to the nape of my neck before he twisted his fingers in my hair and pulled.

“The Way of the Hound, variation number one. One of my top three.”

His thick cock nudged my pussy, but he didn’t press inside yet.

“There’s more than one variation?”

“Mmmhmm.” He draped himself over me, his lips at my ear. “Variation two goes a little something like this.” He released my hair and sank his teeth into the muscles connecting my shoulder to my neck. As he did, his crown breached my entrance, both sensations pulling a strangled gasp from me. “Both are winners.”

“I can see why you think so,” I panted. My body was still so turned on from what happened downstairs in the salon. I was pretty sure one swipe of his rough fingers over my clit would send me over the edge again.

He slowly pressed forward, his hand now wrapped around my throat. “And that’s number three. I like them all, but I’m partial to the first one.”

“What else do you like?” I asked. My eyes fluttered closed as he slowly worked just the tip of his thick cock in and out of me.

“Well, there’s always the Sinner’s Prayer,” he murmured, taking my wrists one at a time and tugging until they were pressed together, his long fingers encircling them both. “Up straight, my good girl. Let me fuck you until you’re praying to come around my cock.”

“Yes,” I agreed, knowing I was practically there already.

When he pulled all the way out and then filled me again in one smooth, hard thrust, I realized I was wrong.

I was Jon Snow.

I knew nothing.

Every brutal thrust pressed against that same spot he’d found earlier inside me. The room became nothing but the two of us, our bodies slapping together, my wetness dripping down my thighs, the headboard banging over and over on the wall. I was pretty sure some plaster dust floated down from the ceiling.

With every rock of his hips into me, I felt my control slipping further away. I was a puppet, and Sin was my master.

I didn’t even realize I’d started chanting until his lips were at my ear again, his chuckle washing over me like a caress.

“Please, please, please,” I begged.

“That sounds like a prayer to me.”

His ragged breaths against my ear combined with the way he reached down and pressed on my lower belly as he drove into me sent me over the edge.

I came apart.

I came undone.

I came and came and came and didn’t stop coming.

Tears streamed down my cheeks as Sin tensed and shuddered behind me, his desperate groan of my name letting me know he’d found his own pleasure, but this time inside me.

“Fuck, baby. You’re squeezing me so good. Never want to leave you,” he muttered, his words punctuated with heavy breaths.

I couldn’t help myself. I was like a shark after the first hint of blood in the water. I fed without consciously choosing to feed. I fed as hard as I came, which is to say I couldn’t stop. I was swept up in the sensation, gorging myself on his pleasure and floating in the beauty of what we’d created through the joining of our bodies.

He went limp behind me before finally rolling to his side, his cock slipping out of me and allowing me to fall into the soft mattress so I could catch my breath.

“Wow,” I managed, tilting my head so I could glance at him beside me. “At the risk of stroking your ego, I think you undersold your talents, mister. That was even better than I’d expected.”

I was already smiling, anticipating his smug comeback.

It never came.

“Sin?” I called, still smiling as I gave his shoulder a little shove.

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