Page 27 of Forbidden Sins

I nod. “They’re not as fast, though,” I murmur with some trepidation, looking at the machine in front of me. It looks terrifying. There’s not nearly enough between us and the road at the speed we’ll be going.

Sebastian swings his leg over, settling onto the buttery leather seat, and I try to mimic him. I’m not quite as graceful, but I manage, feeling him tense as I wriggle into place behind him. I could swear I hear his breath catch as I slide forward a little, my chest pressed against his back, and then he reaches back with one hand, gently grabbing my wrist and tugging my arm forward.

“Arms around me, princess,” he instructs. “Hang on, and try to move with me if you feel me lean one way or another. It’ll feel instinctive in no time, I promise.”

I swallow hard, but this close to him, I can feel the fear receding. It’s hard to be afraid when there are so many other feelings crashing through me right now. I can feel the hard, muscled breadth of his body against mine, smell the warm scent of his skin mixed with the smokiness of his cologne, and the metallic grease and leather smell of the bike. I bite my lip as I feel warmth flood through me that has nothing to do with the humid summer night, pooling between my thighs as I squirm a little on the seat.

When the engine revs to life, I feel the vibration of it hum through the motorcycle, and a jolt of dangerous pleasure shoots through me. I gasp softly, but the roar of the bike is too loud for Sebastian to hear it.

When he puts the bike into gear, I instinctively grab onto him tighter. My hands press against the soft material of his T-shirt, and I can feel the hard ridges of his abs underneath, flexing as he balances himself on the bike. The vibration of the enginerumbles between my thighs, and as we pull out onto the road, I feel a sudden, steady tension building in my muscles.

It feelsgood. The wind whips past me as our speed increases, but I’ve forgotten to be afraid. I’ve forgotten about anything other than the feeling of Sebastian’s hard abs under my hands, the scent of leather and cologne and warm male skin so close to my nose, and that steady rumble beneath me, building a delicious pressure that feels suddenly, alarmingly familiar.

I’m not so innocent that I haven’t touched myself before. I’ve explored by myself, late at night under the covers, reading a particularly spicy section of a romance novel or sneaking clips of videos that I quickly delete the history of afterward. I’ve had an orgasm, although never with anyone else—and never with anything other than my own fingers, sliding gently over and around my clit as I imagine what it might be like to have a man that I’ve chosen, that I want, touch me there instead.

I’ve never felt anything like this, though. The sensation builds and builds, and my lips part, a sudden moan escaping me as I tilt forward a little, into Sebastian, and feel the vibrations settle against the seam of my jeans, pressing into my clit. Sparks go off behind my tightly closed eyes, and I gasp, the sounds of pleasure torn away on the wind. Sebastian doesn’t hear me—he can’t hear anything over the engine and the traffic and the whipping wind—and I feel my cheeks heat as I realize how close I am to the edge. Desperately close, so much so that my arms tighten around him, my hips rocking closer to his as I chase the pleasure. I can feel that I’m wet, my panties clinging to my folds as I squirm subtly against the leather seat, my mind suddenly flooded with all kinds of forbidden images.

Sebastian, hearing me moan. Realizing what’s happening, and pulling over to the side of the road. His hands on my waist, spinning me around, undoing my jeans as he slides his fingersin to finish the job. Sebastian pulling me onto his lap, yanking his own jeans open, and sliding me down onto his?—

I don’t even realize we’re pulling into the bowling alley. The image of Sebastian fucking me on his motorcycle tips me over the edge, and I let out a shuddering moan as the vibrations sweep through my body, my legs clenching against the sides of the bike as an orgasm overtakes me. My fingers curl against his abs, pressing hard as I arch against him without meaning to, and Sebastian stiffens, one hand going to cover mine as he guides the bike into the parking lot.

“Are you okay?” he shouts as the bike slows, and I realize with a start that he didn’t catch on to what just happened. He thought I was afraid. Guilt washes over me, and I nod, answering as soon as we’ve rolled to a halt.

“I’m fine,” I manage, but my voice sounds much too breathless. Sebastian kills the engine, sliding off quickly, and his hands go to my waist to help me off. I gasp at the touch, my blood still throbbing through my veins, and he pauses, frowning as he looks at me.

He takes in my quick breathing, my flushed face, and hooded eyes, and I see understanding dawn in his eyes. His hands tense on my waist, his eyes darkening, and I feel the air snap taut between us.

I feel like he’s staring right through me, like he can read every filthy thought I had as I came, sitting right behind him on his bike. I feel exposed, vulnerable, and I can feel the flush on my cheeks deepen. His gaze flicks down to my mouth, and for one brief, heated second, I think he might actually kiss me. That here, away from my father and his house and all the expectations placed on us both, Sebastian might take just a taste of what I think he wants as much as I do.

Sebastian hesitates, his gaze flicking back up to meet mine. He helps me down off the bike, before releasing me, his handsslipping from my waist and leaving a tingling sensation behind on my skin as he takes a step back and away from me. “Your friends,” he says finally, his voice low and rasping. “How much do they actually know about your life?”

I swallow hard, trying to think past the pounding of my blood in my veins and how close he still is to me—closer than we both know he should be. “They know I’m rich,” I say finally. “That my dad is rich. I think they just assume he’s in tech or something. They definitely don’t know about the?—”

“Mafia,” Sebastian supplies. “I thought not.”

I shake my head quickly. “No, of course not. I couldn’t tell them about that.”

“And me?” he raises an eyebrow. “What are you going to tell them about why I’m with you tonight?”

My stomach tightens at the question. I hadn’t thought about it. Why would I? For three years, I’ve never had to explain Sebastian. At college, he blended into the background, disappearing the moment anyone came too close who might have questions. His job has always been to watch.

But it’s going to be hard for him to blend in here, tonight. Even dressed the way he is, there’s an aura about him that suggests he’s something dangerous, something predatory. A man not to be fucked with.

Not the kind of man who probably often frequents—I squint, looking at the neon sign above the building, which loudly proclaims the name of the establishment.Rocket Bowling.

I lick my lips nervously, and I see Sebastian’s gaze flicker almost imperceptibly to my mouth again, as if he’s desperately trying not to look, and failing. “You could be my friend?” I suggest timidly, and his eyebrows draw together.

“What kind of friend?” his voice is still too low, too husky, for that question to sound innocent. The knot in my stomach tightens, my heartbeat picking up in my chest.

I swallow hard. “The kind of friend that keeps any other guys here tonight away from me?” I suggest softly, and Sebastian nods.

“I’ll be whatever you need, princess,” his gaze lingers on mine for a beat too long, and I feel that tension vibrate in the air between us. I’m still aware of the faint, lingering throbbing between my thighs, the way the fabric of my panties clings between them, damp from my orgasm.

He made me come, and he doesn’t even know it.A shiver runs through me. He can’t ever know. I wonder what would happen if I told him, if I said out loud, boldly, that I came on his bike while I clung to him as we rode here.

Either he’d remember his place, who I am, and who he’s supposed to be to me, and reject me, or?—

I close my eyes briefly, a wash of heat rippling through me. I can’t think about theor. If I do, we’ll never make it out of this parking lot, and I’ll do something that we’ll both regret.

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