Page 95 of Sinner's Vows

I bite my lip as his thumb slides to my jawline and lower, to trace down the column of my neck. “More.”

I already sound like I’m begging, my voice betraying my body’s needs.

“Good girl. Now say stop.”

“Stop. But please don’t.”

He smiles, and by now his hand has reached my shoulder, and he gives it a warm squeeze. “Repeat after me: not yet.”

“Not yet.”

“We’re going to keep it simple today, okay?” he murmurs as he slides his hand down to my hip and tugs me into him. “There’s only one more: again.”

“Again.”

I’m flush against his body, his erection pressing into my belly as his other hand comes up and tilts my head so I’m forced to look up at him.

“Now, sweetheart,” he murmurs as he takes in my face, my lips which are practically begging for him to kiss me. “I want you to close off all those open doors in your mind, Ariana. All I want is for you to be in this room, and not wander off to all those other rooms in your mind, okay?” He dips his head to brush his nose along my temple. “All I want you to think about is that you are a beautiful woman, with a body worthy of worship, who deserves to be loved.”

At these words, I choke up as emotion floods me. So many things. Gratitude for this man who came into my life, who gets me, who cares on a level I’ve never experienced before. I’m already leaning into him, but now, my knees are weak.

“Okay,” I say, but so softly, it’s hardly a whisper as I try to hide my tears.

Then he’s there, kissing my temples, my eyes, my cheeks, catching my tears before they run out of control. The reverence in those fleeting brushes of his lips uncoil something in me. With him, yes, I’m a beautiful woman, worthy of love. I’ll never be broken in this man’s eyes, and he’ll always treat me right. It’s more than I knew I wanted or needed, but his words are everything.

His hands are on my hips, on my sides, stroking rhythmically for me to calm down. It does calm my nerves, but it also stokesthis fire in me, as the embers of lust have long since burst back into flame. I need him, in any and every way he’ll give himself to me.

I inch my hands up his chest, clinging to him, to his strength, and when he teases his lips over mine in question, asking permission, I shudder at the pleasure of it.

“This is the first thing I wanted to do with you, almost from the moment I laid eyes on you,” he whispers as his lips caress the corner of my mouth, and then they are on mine, open, soft, in a kiss that’s slow and seductive, yet so profoundly deep, it’s like a drug seeping into my veins.

He cradles my head as he kisses me ever deeper, and now there’s nothing sweet or innocent about this kiss anymore. As his tongue sweeps into my mouth, so slow and languid, it becomes the most tender invasion, turning the kiss erotic and somehow so deliciously dirty, opening up a whole new world, the floor bottoming out from under me. I moan into him, only wanting to go with him, down into the beckoning abyss. If this is how he kisses, I’m not going to be able to hold back. Already, my panties are damp, my body begging for friction.

Dominic hums as he closes off the kiss and smiles down at me. “So fucking sweet,” he murmurs. “So fucking addictive.”

His hands are at the hem of my T-shirt, the one I put on this morning, tugging it off. Next, he’s eased off my bra. He’s just as gentle as the first night he dressed me in his wash-worn T-shirt, but this feels like I’m shedding all these layers that have always held me back.

When I reach for his shirt’s buttons, he stalls me. “Not yet, sweetheart.”

He drops to his haunches, hands at my jean’s button as I kick my ballerina flats off. Knuckles skim my lower belly, over the scars I never think of when he’s around. He drags my jeans down, and I hold on to him to step out of them and keepmy balance which suddenly seems very unstable. Everything is tilting—my world, my sanity, my very being is ready to fall into him.

There’s so much reverence on his face, I still. I’m only in these simple white cotton panties that came in a bulk pack, my nipples hard, jutting out, begging for him to kiss them as his gaze skates up my body. I’d love to dress for him, let him unwrap me from silk and lace, gift myself to him again and again.

As he straightens, he runs featherlight fingertips along my legs, over my hips, up the sides of my breasts but never touching me where I’m a hot mess already and pulsating with need for him.

He guides me to the bed. “Lie down, sweetheart, in the middle.”

God… he did tell me he was going to take his time.

I do as he says and wait for him to tell me what to do next as he glances around the room. My gaze drops to his groin, where that erection I got a full view of in the shower bulges up and to the side in the constraints of his trousers. My mouth wets with a need I don’t understand yet, and I lick my lips.

Not yet.How apt.

“Seems I’m a bit challenged in the prop department,” he says as he takes his time to remove his watch and put it on the bedside table. He leans onto the bed with one knee and bends over me. “Stay right here in this room, sweetheart. I’m going to raid the bathroom.”

He caresses my cheek with a fingertip, so softly it’s hardly a touch, and then lower, down the side of my neck, and it doesn’t tickle—it only sparks desire down my chest, ever lower where it adds to the build-up in my sex.

I bet he likes a challenge like this, and the memories of his silk ties slipping over my wrists flare up in my mind. Every sensation of those silk ties on my arms is imprinted on my mind,my body, and what it felt like to be so safe with him. Whatever he comes up with, he’ll look after me.

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