Page 76 of Sins of the Hidden

I dropped my head, sighing. He really didn't understand. "Not that kind of clean," I muttered, heat prickling my cheeks. "STD clean."

"Why would I have an STD?" His tone suggesting the question was absurd.

"From your… past partners," I couldn't keep the hurt from my voice. The thought of V with other women sent an unexpected pang through my chest.

"Why would I fuck anyone but you?" he said, voice rough.

"You've never...?"

Without a word, he seized my wrist, guiding my hand to his cock, hard and burning through the denim. The rigid outline left no doubt about his desire as he pressed my palm more firmly against himself, a small groan escaping from behind his mask.

My eyes flew open as time slowed around me. V was a virgin? The floor beneath my thoughts gave out. How could he be a virgin looking like he does? The realization that I'd be his first—that we'd be each other's firsts—made my heart stutter in my chest.

"I just assumed…" Letting my voice trail off, I didn't really know what it was I was trying to say anyway. My fingers curled slightly around his length, experimentally, and I was rewardedwith a sharp intake of breath. He quirked an eyebrow, making words tumble out before I could stop them. "W-With how attractive you are–"

"You think I'm attractive?"

I felt heat rush to my cheeks as I curled in on myself, suddenly aware of my vulnerability. Unable to meet his intense gaze, I managed a small, tentative nod.

"Never wanted to be with anyone but you." He pressed his hips forward, grinding against my hand like he needed the contact to stay sane. "Only you, Oakley."

That sent a shock straight to my heart. I'd never been wanted like this by anyone. "I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything." His face lowered, our noses touching. His mask hovered so close to my lips. "Let me fuck you."

A flush spread across my cheeks at his words, and my eyes fixed on his. The decision tilted inside me, impossible to deny. I did as V requested. I said nothing. I gave him the signal he always used—a single nod.

I wanted to be his—the way fire devours air, the way his hands conquered every fear I'd never said aloud.

"C-Could we turn the lights off?" My voice was small, barely audible. "A-And maybe I could keep my shirt on?"

V went completely still above me, the air in the room suddenly heavy. His eyes narrowed, pupils contracting to pinpoints. “No.”

Before I could respond, his hand shot out, wrapping around my throat. The pressure wasn't painful, but the message was clear. His thumb traced my pulse point, feeling my heartbeat quicken beneath his touch.

"The only thing you're allowed to wear when we fuck is my hand around your neck." His voice dropped to a dangerous register that brooked no argument, each word a command etched in steel.

My breath hitched so hard it hurt. Heat exploded low in my belly, sharp and humiliating, my thighs clenching involuntarily like I could trap the feeling there—hold it still before it undid me completely.

I pulled my hand back, heart still racing, and clutched the sheets as he leaned over me. His calloused fingertips slid beneath my shirt, leaving goosebumps in their wake. I shivered as he dragged the fabric upward in one fluid motion, exposing me completely. His gaze scorched a path down my body, his breath hitching behind the mask.

I moved to shield myself on instinct, arms crossing over my chest. V caught my wrists in an iron grip.

"Arms down." I hesitated, muscles tensing under his scrutiny. He didn't wait for my compliance. His hands seized my wrists, fingers digging into my skin as he drove them down into the mattress on either side of my head. The bed creaked beneath us as he shifted his weight forward, looming closer. His breath came faster now, shakier, warming my skin through the mask as he hovered inches above me. "You don't hide from me. Ever."

I wanted to believe him. God, how I wanted to. But years of seeing nothing but flaws in the mirror couldn't be undone with a few words, even from him.

But the hunger in his gaze didn't falter. There wasn't a trace of disappointment or hesitation—just want. For me. Exactly as I was.

Dropping my wrists, his hands went to his own shirt. Pulling the tight black fabric off in a single motion, he threw it to the floor. His dark hair rested on his bare shoulders. The muscles of his torso rippled with the movement, a testament to his raw power. My eyes sought out the uneven O carved above his heart, a crude scar that looked self-inflicted. My fingers moved to touch it as he lay back over me. I let my fingers touch his chest, tracing the jagged edges of the wound V had carved into himself.

His voice was low. "You like it?"

"U-Uh, yeah." My fingers traced the O repeatedly, feeling its imperfections. "I-I like how it looks."

His eyes darkened at my words. The mattress compressed as he moved over me, his weight crushing me into the sheets. The cool air licked across my skin, drawing my nipples into sharp points. V lowered his head, the textured edge of his mask scraping against my breast before he bit down.

"Eyes shut." I blinked, too slowly. "Now. Or I stop."

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