Page 116 of Chandelier Sin
Too soon,I silently chastised myself.
And realistically, too impossible a dream.
I tore away, my sudden action surprising Atticus. He raised his hand to reassure me, as though calming a frightened deer.
In that moment I knew his strength didn’t outmatch his brilliant mind, that Atticus was capable of restraint and would never cause intentional harm.
I stepped back and flung off the throw. Reaching behind me, I unclipped my bra and then slipped out of my panties—standing naked before him.
I wanted this man to see the real me, the authentic version of a woman who didn’t want the privilege that entrapped me.
“God.” His admiration was a thing of beauty. “No, don’t cover yourself. Let me look at you.”
Gently, I sank to my knees and peered up at him, posing as thekind of submissive I’d heard he adored—subservient, obedient, and in a state of worship.
“Come here,” I said, shaking him from his revelry.
He stepped forward, reaching out and gently cupping my face. “I should be the one on my knees so I can kiss you the way you like.”
“Let me have this.” I reached up and unzipped his pants.
My fingers were gentle around his hardening cock, bringing it out, tugging his pants down his hips to free his girth.
Taking him deep into the back of my throat, I lavished his full length with a strong suck I knew he’d admire, knew he’d not pull away from, invoking a forbidden indulgence. The smooth skin over his iron-hard erection was of a dreamy texture, bringing a thrill. I felt a delicious tingling in my chest as I gripped him and teased his shiny tip, lapping his frenulum.
Atticus inhaled sharply at the powerful sensations.
You’re my escape, I mused.Literally and figuratively.
We shared a vibrant experience that became rich and hypnotic, both soothing and electrifying. Atticus Sinclair in my mouth—the man no woman had tamed, even as they had to have loved him. Even as they fought hard to crack the shell of this mercurial man.
Sharing these thoughts was impossible, so instead I offered my affection with playful swirls, peering up at him so we could share this sensory experience of me having him in my mouth, gliding his shaft in and out with exquisite timing.
Atticus Sinclair’s cock was mine.
“Remain still.” He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “I want to see.”
Obediently, I remained motionless, blinking up at him as I rested his rounded head on the end of my tongue.
He laid his hand on my head. “Such a good girl.”
A rush of something dark and delicious and mesmerizing swept over me, as though he’d reached in and caressed my soul.
This—him and me—was a temporary respite from my existence,pure and simple, yet profoundly revealing what true happiness looked like when matched with the right person.
In those first seconds when Atticus had stormed the mansion and stated angrily that there was “no us,” a part of me had been destroyed.
Now, these new memories unfolding between us were like a promise that had patiently waited for its hour.
How could this be? Two humans perfect for each other, a couple forbidden to be together, and yet insanely well-matched. This chemistry, our chemistry, was like a melding of minds that was too perfect to dismiss.
I pulled back and glared up at him. “I’ve never done this before. You’re my first.”
His eyes glimmered. “First affair?”
“Yes.” I felt a ripple of sadness.
My entire life had been a lie, a cruel manipulation of another man’s fantasy realized through me. Our marriage was loveless, careless, and without a future.
