Page 130 of Masked Sins
My heart turns over inside my chest, and I take another bite of pizza.
“How come you never told me?”
He chews on his piece, and I watch his throat move as he swallows. I don’t think he realizes just how sexy he is—especially right now, with mussed-up hair, an old white T-shirt, and black pants. His feet are bare, and his scruff is a couple of days overgrown. He looks unkempt, wild, and provocative.
“By the time I realized, it was too late. I don’t think it truly hit me until the day of your audition. The threat of losing you spurred me into action.”
“And then I told you I never wanted to see you again,” I mumble, the pizza suddenly tasting like sawdust in my mouth.
He sets his pizza down and reaches out for my piece, placing it in the box next to his as he takes my hands.
“You had every right to say those things to me, Layla. I was a shitty person to ruin your audition, no matter how I felt about you leaving.”
“I shouldn’t have said I never wanted to see you again. I wish—” My throat clogs with emotion. “I wish I’d had you in my life these past seven years.”
His eyes find mine, darkening slightly. “Maybe it’s a good thing I wasn’t.”
I tilt my head. “How so?”
“I just mean… it was hard to keep my feelings to myself from afar. I’m not sure I would’ve been able to had we still been close.” He looks down at our joined hands, and his face clouds with uncertainty. “You know how my parents met, right?”
I shake my head.
“My dad wasobsessedwith my mom. So much so that he smothered her. Completely and irrevocably. He wasn’t niceabout it. To him, she washis.His possession…” He swallows. “I’m a lot like him, Layla.”
My chest aches. “Orion, you’re nothing like him.”
“But I am. I’m possessive. I’m controlling. I might not drink anymore, but I came really damn close to going down that slippery slope, too?—”
“No. You’re not.” I squeeze his hands firmly. “You’re kind and generous. You bought my house so I could afford to buy it from you. You helped me with homework until I graduated. You’re selfless and thoughtful, and you always make sure I’m eating enough?—”
“Don’t you see? I’m kind toyou.I’m generous—toyou.Everything I do is for you, Layla. Doesn’t it bother you that I’d let the world burn to save you?”
His words send shivers down my spine. “You’re nice to everyone. Stop pretending that you aren’t.” I scoot closer so that I’m right in front of him. “You are not your father. But more importantly, I am not your mother. Felicity was a wonderful woman. Beautiful. Kind. But she easily molded to your father’s will and was easily folded into my father’s life. You forget that not everyone is so easily controlled,” I finish, letting my voice go a bit sultry at the end.
His eyes spark with something heated. “That’s a shame. Here I was thinking you’d be easily coaxed into doing whatever I want you to do.”
I pull my lower lip between my teeth as I lift one leg and place it over his hips, straddling him. I don’t give him the option to protest. His rigid length pushes against me, and I shift to sit right on top of it. His lashes flutter, and in an instant, I’m leaning forward and smashing my lips against his.
He visibly shudders underneath me, and I don’t think I’ll ever get over his reaction to touching me. It’s like he’s beingburned at the stake—like he’s so used to holding back that touching me is a holy experience.
“Tell me this is real,” he mumbles against my lips. His warm hands come to my waist, and his fingers dig into my flesh like he’s holding me for dear life. “Tell me you’re actually here.”
“I’m here,” I whisper. “And I’d like you to take me to bed.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
THE RUINATION
Layla
Orion stands, wrapping my legs around his waist. He groans into my mouth as he slowly walks us to his bedroom, and the world falls away. A swooping sensation starts in my core and expands outward, causing my whole body to tingle.
I always wondered about how female characters described their arousal—because it had never really happened to me with another person. I could live vicariously through my dark romance books, but I never thought I’d experience the sensation of my innards dropping down to the floor, the heavy ache between my legs, the way my skin has goose bumps from how warm his hands are, howtightlyhe’s holding me.
My reaction to him was swift and violent, and I know it’s because my romantic feelings go much deeper than I realized.
He deposits me onto his bed a second later, and everything smells like him—even the dark gray linen duvet cover. A shiver wracks through my body, the absence of his body heat unwelcome, leaving me wanting him as close as possible.
