Page 66 of Sin Wager
“Hold still.” The command is sharp, not meant for discussion.
I stay perched on the edge of the mattress, glaring up at him with my lips swollen, chest heaving. He unbuttons his shirt with impatient hands, scars and ink crawling into view as fabric falls away.
His hands slide down my sides, hooking into the waistband of my jeans. The scrape of metal as he pops the button, the slow drag of the zipper—it all feels louder than the pounding of my heart. He kisses me through it, tongue sliding against mine as if he’s tasting every breath I try to hold back.
I arch into him when his palm slides beneath the open denim, rough fingers forcing past the edge of my panties until he finds me. The first touch has me gasping into his mouth, clutching at his shoulders like I’ll fall without him.
“You’re driving me mad,” he groans, stroking me with a steady rhythm that makes my thighs shake. “I’ll never get enough of this. Never.”
His mouth leaves mine only long enough to trail hot kisses down my jaw, his teeth grazing my throat before he latches onto the skin at my pulse and sucks hard. I moan for him, my hips rocking helplessly into his hand, every movement answered by his fingers working me deeper.
His fingers work me, teasing, dragging me higher while his mouth stays locked to my throat. I writhe under him, jeans still tight around my thighs, his hand buried inside them like he refuses to let me breathe without him.
“Say my name,” he mutters against my skin, the demand more like a plea, his breath hot and ragged in the hollow of my neck.
“Misha,” I gasp, nails digging into his back as my hips buck into his hand.
He groans, biting down hard enough to make me shiver, then pushes deeper, curling his fingers until my body arches off the mattress. Every thrust of his hand feels like he’s staking a claim, each stroke dragging me closer to the edge.
“You’re trembling for me,” he whispers, kissing my jaw before pulling my mouth back to his. “Give it to me. I want to feel you break apart in my hands.”
The pressure coils so tight I can’t fight it, can’t think. My breath stutters, my thighs lock around his arm, and the world tilts as pleasure rips through me. I cry into his mouth, every nerve burning while he strokes me through it, coaxing every last spasm from my body until I collapse against him, trembling and gasping.
He pulls his hand free, deliberately dragging the dampness across my stomach as he unfastens the rest of my jeans. His eyes burn into mine when he growls, “Now I need more.”
He yanks my jeans down, peeling them off in uneven tugs until they’re gone. Before I can shift, he pulls me into his lap, my knees bracketing his thighs as he sinks back on the mattress, his mouth devouring mine.
His shirt hangs open now, heat rolling off his bare chest as my hands spread over the hard planes of muscle and ink. He lifts my shirt just enough to slide his palms underneath, the rough drag of his fingers sparking across my ribs before he cups my breasts through the thin bra. I moan into his mouth when he squeezes, his thumb circling over a nipple until it stiffens against the fabric.
“I can’t stop,” he mutters against my mouth, breath uneven. “Every time I touch you, it gets worse. I need you to feel what you do to me.”
The thick line of his cock pushes against me, trapped behind the moist fabric of my panties and the straining fly of his trousers. He grips my hips and pulls me down over him,grinding us together until the pressure has me rocking back against his hands. The friction makes me gasp, panting against his mouth, my body already begging for more even though he hasn’t pushed inside.
His hands drop to his waistband, fumbling open the button with a rough tug and dragging the zipper down. I hear the sound more than I see it before he shoves the fabric low on his hips, just enough to free himself, and then pulls me tighter onto his lap.
The blunt press of him against my panties makes me shiver. He hooks a finger into the thin fabric, yanking it aside, and then he’s there, sliding against me. My breath hitches, nails biting into his bare shoulders.
“I need to be inside you,” he mutters against my mouth, the words ragged. His hand clamps my hip as he pushes upward, forcing me down to take him.
The stretch is sharp, stealing my breath, and then full—so full I can’t move. I cling to him, gasping into his kiss as he rocks deeper, each thrust dragging me tighter onto him.
The open shirt hangs loose around his chest, brushing against my skin as he moves. His trousers scrape the inside of my thighs, and he groans low in his throat, lips at my ear.
“You undo me,” he breathes. “I can’t get enough.”
Each thrust drives harder into me, my back arching as I clutch at his shoulders. His mouth takes mine again, swallowing the broken sounds spilling from my throat. The rhythm builds, faster, rougher, the mattress creaking under us with every grind of his hips. My body tightens around him, the coil winding, pulling me closer with every stroke.
“Come for me,” he growls against my lips, one hand gripping my hair, the other crushing my hip to hold me down on his cock. “I want to feel you soak my dick."
The words unravel me. Pleasure bursts through me in a wave that leaves me trembling and crying into his mouth, my body clenching tight around him. He curses, thrusting hard, deeper, his control snapping as he groans into my neck.
His release tears through him with mine, each rough drive wringing another cry from both of us until he holds me still, buried as deep as he can go. His breath saws against my ear, his hands still locked hard on my body.
We stay there, tangled and shaking, his shirt hanging open against my skin, my panties twisted out of place, the world narrowed to nothing but the sound of our breathing and the pulse still hammering between us. I listen to his heartbeat slow from racing to steady, feel his breathing deepen as adrenaline fades and his cock begins to go soft inside me.
I expect some sort of chastisement, a lecture about being safe or taking it easy, but it's the last thing on his mind, apparently.
"Rolan will want to know about the baby," he says softly against my neck. I'm not sure what his nephew will say, but it can't be an easy thing for him to confess.
