Page 59 of Made for Sinners

The kiss was fire and fury, a battle of wills that neither of us wanted to lose. His hands gripped my hips, pulling me against him, his touch searingly hot. I gasped against his mouth, and he took advantage, his tongue sweeping inside, claiming, demanding.

I hated how good he tasted, how easily he stole the air from my lungs, how effortlessly he made me forget why I was angry in the first place.

His hands moved, one sliding up my spine, the other gripping my thigh, lifting me onto the counter in one smooth motion. My legs parted instinctively, and he stepped between them, his body pressing into mine, hard and unyielding.

His eyes were dark, intense, and they drank me in like a man parched, his lips curling into a slow, predatory smile. “My wife,” he murmured, the words rolling off his tongue like honey, thickand deliberate. His voice was low, so low it sent a shiver down my spine, pooling heat between my thighs.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry as he reached out, his fingers brushing against the curve of my jaw. His touch was electric, sending sparks skittering across my skin, and I instinctively leaned into it, my body betraying the fear that still lingered in my mind.

His hand slid down my neck, his fingers tracing a path of fire over my collarbone before resting on the swell of my breast. I gasped, the contact making my nipples harden instantly, pressing against my robe like eager little peaks begging for attention. He noticed, of course he did, and his smile turned wicked as he thumbed one through the fabric, sending jolts of pleasure straight to my core.

“So responsive,” he purred, his other hand sliding around my waist to pull me flush against him. I could feel the hard length of him pressing into my stomach, and I bit my lip to stifle a moan. His body was solid, muscular, and I could feel the heat radiating off him, seeping into me like liquid fire.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “Do you know what I’m going to do to you tonight, wife?” he whispered, his voice dripping with promise. “I’m going to make you mine in every way possible. I’m going to take that sweet little pussy of yours and claim it as my own. And you’re going to love every fucking second of it.”

I shivered at his words, my body already responding, my core clenching with need. He stepped back slightly, his hands moving to the hem of my robe, and with a single, deliberate motion, he pulled it over my head, leaving me bare before him. The cool air kissed my skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat of his gaze as he took me in, his eyes raking over every inch of me.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his voice thick with lust. “Look at you. You’re perfect. Every fucking inch of you.” He reached out, hishands sliding up my thighs, leaving trails of fire in their wake. His thumbs brushed against the soft curls at the apex of my thighs, and I whimpered, my legs trembling as he pressed closer.

“Spread for me,” he commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument. I obeyed without thought, my body moving on its own accord, and he groaned as he finally got a good look at my glistening slit. “Fuck, you’re already so wet for me,” he said, his voice rough with need. “My perfect little wife is already dripping for her husband.”

He dropped to his knees before me, his hands gripping my hips like a man possessed, and I barely had time to register what was happening before his mouth was on me, his tongue licking a hot, wet stripe from my entrance to my clit. I cried out, my hands flying to his hair as he devoured me like a man starved, his tongue swirling around my clit before plunging into me again and again.

“Oh god,” I moaned, my hips bucking against his mouth as he worked me with an expertise that left me breathless. His hands tightened on my hips, holding me in place as he fucked me with his tongue, each stroke sending waves of pleasure crashing through me.

“That’s it,” he growled against my pussy, his words vibrating through me like electricity. “Let go for me, wife. Cum on my tongue.”

His command was all it took. The coil in my belly snapped, and I came hard, my pussy grinding against his tongue as I rode wave after wave of ecstasy. He didn’t stop, not until I was a trembling mess above him, gripping the counter, my legs barely able to hold me up.

He stood then, his hands sliding up my body to cup my breasts as he kissed me deeply, letting me taste myself on his lips. “You taste fucking divine,” he whispered against my mouth. “But I’m not done with you yet.”

Before I could respond, he spun me around and bent me over the edge of counter, his hands gripping my hips possessively. I could feel his cock straining against me, and I whimpered in anticipation.

His hand tangled in my hair like he owned it—like he owned me—yanking my head back with a force that made my scalp tingle and my pulse race. The bathroom mirror stared back at me, but the girl in it wasn’t me. Not the me I knew. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen from his kisses, her eyes dark with a hunger I’d never let myself feel before.

I barely recognized her.

I barely recognized myself.

“Look at you,” he growled, his voice low and dripping with possession, like he was savoring every word. “Look at what you’re letting me do to you.” His other hand slid down my body, rough and demanding, fingers digging into my hip as he pulled me back against him. I could feel him, hard and insistent, pressing against my ass through his pants. My breath hitched, and I tried to look away, but his grip on my hair tightened, forcing me to keep my eyes on the mirror.

“No,” he said, his voice sharp and commanding. “You’re going to watch. You’re going see the moment I make youmine.”

I whimpered, the sound caught somewhere between fear and arousal, and he chuckled darkly, his hot breath grazing the shell of my ear. “That’s it, princess. Let me hear you. Let me see how much you want it.”

His fingers slid down to my bare, heated skin, and I gasped, my knees buckling as he teased me with his touch. “Fuck, you’redrippingfor me,” he muttered, his lips skimming the curve of my neck. “You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you? Imagining how it would feel to finally have me inside you.”

I couldn’t answer. My mind was a blur of heat and need, my body trembling as his hand slid between my thighs, finding mebare once again, exposed to the cool air and the relentless gaze of the mirror. His fingers moved with deliberate ease, sliding through the slickness he’d already tasted, teasing me all over again. I moaned, my head falling back as he circled my clit, his touch just rough enough to make me ache for more.

“Look at yourself,” he ordered, his voice like a command I couldn’t bring myself to disobey even if I wanted to. My eyes fluttered open, and there we were in the mirror: him towering behind me, his chest pressed against my back, his hand working between my legs. His other hand still gripped my hair, forcing me to watch as he spread my thighs wider, exposing me completely.

“See how gorgeous you are?” he murmured, his lips brushing my ear, his voice thick with hunger. “My wife. Do you see how fucking gorgeous you are when you give in to me? When you stop fighting and just let yourself be mine? God, you were made to look like this—perfect, desperate, and begging for me.”

I wasn’t begging—not yet—but I could feel it building, the desperate need to have him fill me, to feel every inch of him stretching me open. He must have felt it too because he chuckled again, his fingers sliding lower, teasing my entrance before pressing inside. My breath caught at the stretch, at the delicious friction as he worked me open with two fingers, curling them just right to make me cry out.

“That’s it,” he said, his voice low and rough. “That’s my girl. Let me hear you.”

I couldn’t stop myself. The sounds spilled from my lips, moans and whimpers that echoed in the small space of the bathroom. He fucked me with his fingers, slow and deliberate, making sure I felt every thrust, every twist of his wrist. My hips rocked against his hand, chasing the pleasure he was so ruthlessly denying me.

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