Page 90 of Masked Sins
“What’s wrong?” he asks, and I can smell the strawberry flavor of the sparkling water he drinks.
The pain inside me becomes a sick and fiery gnawing, and I feel sick to my stomach.
He chose a ring for someone else. He’s going to asksomeone elseto marry him. And the worst part is, I’ve pushed him away time and time again, so why am I surprised? Why would someone like him, someone charming, handsome, charismatic, funny, bossy, and kind, stay single?
I may have feelings for him—feelings I don’t want to acknowledge—but I have no claim over him.
And maybe I never did.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” he says, his voice low and pleading. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”
I squeeze my eyes tighter as a tear escapes. He can never know—he can never know I found the ring or that I’m so bitterly jealous that I feel like I might be sick at his feet.
When I open my eyes, his shoulders are heaving as he breathes, as his eyes lock onto mine. And there—in his darkenedpupils, in the way his lids droop a bit lower as his eyes dart around my face—I see it.
A flicker ofsomethingbehind his intense expression.
Without thinking, I stand on my tiptoes, reach for his neck, and pull him down for a kiss.
He stumbles, completely taken off guard. One of his hands land on my waist and the other comes to my face to drag me in closer. And just when I expect him to push me away, the hand on my waist pulls me roughly—almostviolently—against his body as he kisses me back.
In the same breath, my mouth opens as my hands tremble, as my knees shake, and his tongue darts inside my mouth. He inhales sharply, and I moan. The shock of him—of kissing him and howrightit feels is utterly intoxicating.Just like last time.His lips are soft, and he smells a little minty and a bit like strawberry. My hands come to his arms, and I trail them down his corded muscles. He groans against my mouth as a full-body shudder works through him, and I suddenly can’t get enough. He pulls back slightly, but he doesn’t let me go.
“Layla,” he whispers, his breath hot against my ear.
“Don’t stop,” I whimper, pulling his face back to mine and kissing him again. He doesn’t stop me, instead letting his lips recapture mine—more demanding this time.Punishing.Almost bruising.
He walks me back to the bed, and I place a hand on his chest, feeling the way his heart is quickly pounding against his ribs. Touching me with demanding mastery, he scrapes my sensitive skin with his calloused fingertips, running down my arms and then back to my waist. I gasp and pull away as his other hand comes to one of my breasts, cupping it as he lets out a low, possessive growl. My body turns to jelly as one of his hands comes underneath my top, and when he presses his hips againstmy pelvis, I’m shocked to feel the rigid length pressing against my stomach.
This is normal, completely normal. I’m kissing my stepbrother?—
A heavy, guilty thought enters my mind as Orion groans again, placing both hands around my waist and squeezing.
I expect full monogamy while we’re doing this. I will abide by the same rules.
Just as I think it, Orion pulls away and takes a step back. Shivers of delight—or perhaps adrenaline—cause me to tremble and touch my fingers to my lips. My eyes find Orion’s. He’s breathing heavily, and his eyes are nearly black with arousal. Blood pounds in my brain as I try to catch my breath, and if his wild expression is any indication, he’s doing the same.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t—we shouldn’t?—”
“And why is that?” he asks, almost pained.
I tilt my head in confusion. “Because you’re dating someone else, and so am I.”
His eyes narrow ever so slightly. “Then why did you kiss me?”
I cross my arms as my eyes begin to sting with more tears. “I don’t know. Why did you kiss me at Zoe and Liam’s wedding rehearsal dinner?”
A hurt expression rolls over his face, and he runs a hand through his hair. He laughs, but it’s not kind. Instead, it feels like he’s angry.
Like I should know the answer, somehow.
“Stay as long as you want,” he says. “But I can’t be in the same room as you right now.” He quickly turns around and walks out of my room.
He walked away last time, too.
I stand there in stunned silence for several minutes, only coming out of my stupor when Sparrow begins to meow and weave between my legs.
What the hell is wrong with me?
