Page 20 of A Taste like Sin
“Open your mouth,” he commands as the noise ceases.
“W-What?” Heat brushes my cheek, easily finding my mouth—his thumb, I think. He teases my lower
lip with the hardened tip of a nail. “Why?”
“Just open.”
My lips part on command and I’m rewarded with the hint of salt. From histhumb. The rigid shape is
recognizable as my tongue skims the ridges and whirls on the pad of it. With every tentative lick, my
stomach twists into knots, registering his unique taste. Sweat. Sin. His finger withdraws before I can
decipher more, and something new replaces it. Smooth with a slightly gritty surface, not completely
round. And…
It’s wet, tainted with flavor. The sinful taste triggers my memory as heat ignites near my belly:
expensive wine like the kind he owns. A dangerous thought worms its way into my skull, robbing the
air from my lungs. Did he taste this before giving it to me?
The pearl withdraws before I muster up the strength to decide. For a painful few seconds, he remains
silent.
“Perhaps here, next?” he murmurs as a soft touch teases the space between my breasts.
I gasp, remembering the first pearl before it’s too late. Moisture paints my skin in the wake of the
second pearl, leaving a path that cools instantly in the air. I shiver as he guides it up…over…
There’s no disguising my body’s instinctive reaction. A low hum taints the air as the pearl meets the
stiffened peak of my nipple.
“Here?” he wonders thickly before rolling the pearl down my breast. There he leaves it, balanced on
my breastbone.
He’s quiet again, only his breathing gives me any clue where he is—more distant as if he’s moved
near my feet. The next moment, his touch is back, at my ankle this time. I can feel the heat of his hand,
but only a newer pearl contacts my skin, gliding up my leg. I feel all its imperfections, its dents as it
grazes my calf. It’s surprisingly gritty like sand, teasing the flesh on my knee.
“Here?” he murmurs, lingering again.
My lower half trembles, muscles tense to ensure the other pearls don’t move.
“Or here?”
Coldness swipes along my inner thigh, inching higher…
I barely register the unnerving sensation of the small bead between my legs before a firmer touch
