Page 47 of Make Me A Sinner
She fights to draw in air, and I let her—just enough to fill her lungs. But the second she’s done, my grip tightens. Her eyes widen almost in shock as a flood of sensations overtakes her body. I know exactly what she’s going through. In moments like these, everything else fades, and you can only focus onthe movement, the grinding, the thrusts echoing inside your body, taking your orgasm to a whole different level. That kind of connection can’t be replaced. Nothing compares to that sensation. Nothing rivals the bond it creates.
I let her take in a small breath, just enough to keep her from fainting. Her gaze is dazed, not by fear this time, but from the sheer intensity of the pleasure running through her.
Her moans turn into cries, fighting to save her breath as my cock forges deeper, making her give out the last drops of air from her lungs as she tries to deal with the demolishing force that’s now overruling the reactions of her body. She’s almost in shock when she comes, her inner walls gripping me so tightly that it nearly drives me wild. She doesn’t have to raise a hand. I loosen my grip before I leave her unconscious. The intensity, so unpredictable that she stares at me in stunned silence. I release her neck, letting her gulp in all the air she can. My hands return to her hips and increase the speed at which they’re moving against me.
The control I just had over her almost blinded me for a second, but it’s something I’ve needed for far too long. There will be a next time—and a next. Still, the rush is so empowering that I need to pace myself—just to make sure I’m not the one losing it.
Her body’s going limp against me as I feel another riptide wave of orgasm crash through her. Her breath goes from hitched to barely there, as I keep moving her—weightless as a feather—without giving her a second’s rest because I don’t know if I’ll ever get enough of her.
“Set,” she breathes, almost in a plea, as her lips crash against mine, stealing my breath as if she claims my lips to keep conscious.
I snarl, my frustration obvious because I don’t know for how long we can keep going without her dying on me. Her body trembles, wracked by orgasm after orgasm. My name slips fromher lips, almost delirious, her eyes staring back at me as if in a haze.
Her round breasts are pressed against my chest, lips barely parting as moans keep dying on her lips. She’s spent, and I’m not even sure it’s just because of all the sex. I think it’s also because she had to give me everything she had tonight—herself included.
I need to let go too, before I hurt her. My fingers find their way between the curtain of her hair, grabbing the roots and forcing her to look at me. I want to see her as she comes again. I want to watch her as my pleasure will match her own. But most of all, I want her to know she can no longer hide. “You’re mine, because you want to be.”
No more lies between us. No more lying to herself. I’m just setting her free to live the moment—to feel everything. And as if hearing my deepest desire, she doesn’t wait to deliver. The fear, the anger, the resistance—it’s all gone. All there’s left is only raw pleasure. Her hips roll a few more times, knees digging into the couch, when I feel that tight, burning sensation taking hold of me. And I let it go, just as long, broken gasp vibrates from her throat, and my cock spasms in perfect rhythm with her pussy. It’s just purely bliss from there on, and I swear I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as she is in this moment.
Broken but whole. Saint but sinner. Hers—but also mine.
Her body weight collapses onto mine, but I barely feel it. It’s comforting—a feeling I never thought I wanted. Her breath is still ragged, and I know if I’d kept up for a few more minutes, she would’ve ended up unconscious. Not making any promises we won’t get there eventually. But for now, she needs baby steps.
I don’t even withdraw, just keep her there half asleep, unwilling to break the moment.
I feel a few of her fingers twitching weakly against my neck as mine dance in her hair. I know her eyes are closed by now, even if she hasn’t climbed off me. And if she falls asleep like this, I’lllet her. I’ll stay buried inside her through this morning—and the next.
There’s no going back from this, no matter what she says, no matter what she does. Everything changes from this moment forward. I’m no longer the Set I used to be. I’m starting to think I haven’t been him for a while now. But I am the Set she needs. The one meant to be with her.
twenty-four
-Serena-
Guilt? Is that what I’m supposed to feel? Because I feel none. I guess it’s a relief. Like when you’ve done the most impossible thing in your life. Broke your ultimate boundaries. And still survived to tell the story. At least that’s what I hope I’m doing—surviving. Ten minutes ago, I went through a near-death experience because I swear I could surely see glimpses of the afterlife. And I fucking relished in every second of it.
I’m still in Set‘s arms—not that he can move. Or maybe I even fainted on top of him. That’s how it feels right now, because I can’t move either. Not sure I even want to.
There’s a peace inside me that wasn’t here before—even though nothing about being with him resembles peace. And still, I feel safe. I feel like home, though I dread to think of the word. Like it’s exactly where I’m meant to be.
I really don’t want to get up, but I feel him twitching inside me again, and I’m pretty convinced that if I don’t go for the shower, he’ll start all over again. And this time, something will snap inside me. The man’s a machine. Not complaining though. But Ineed him to go easy on me because I have a feeling he’s capable of way more damage than just tonight.
I draw in his scent a couple more times, trying to figure out how the hell we got here. But it’s useless fighting it.
All I know is, there’s no way back. Hasn’t been one for a while now. I just refused to accept it, even if it was something I secretly also wanted.
My head slowly lifts from the center of his chest. Where I shipwrecked a few minutes ago—maybe even more than a few minutes. I can’t keep track of time anymore. But I don’t get far. He leans in for a kiss, and it’s not something I can deny him. This time not because of him, but because of my own will. God, I love kissing him. And just so he could remind me of that, his tongue sneaks inside my mouth unhurriedly, like he’s savoring the taste of his victory.
He’s such a good kisser. He’s a good... everything. Unfortunately,everythingincludes killer. But I won’t go there now. I don’t think I want to go there anymore. Period.
“I… need… to… take… a… shower,” I say, trying to speak between his lips.I half expect him to mutter something specific to him like,“I want you filled with my cum.”But instead, he surprises me and just slowly breaks the kiss.
“I’ll help you wash,” he whispers, still clinging to our routine of joining me in the shower. At least my ovaries won’t ache from all that abstinence this time. Maybe just from all the sex.
He helps me off him, making sure his clothes hit the floor before we even reach the bathroom door. Mine got lost somewhere in the living room a long time ago anyway.
He lets the water run gently over us, its rhythm soothing after the storm we’ve just been through. Yet he’s strangely calm. I want to believe I did that. That my pussy tamed the beast. But I know better than to fool myself. He’s up to something. There’s a devious glimmer in his eyes proving me so. And still, mythoughts drift to somewhere else. The way the water rolls over his tattoos. The way the man in front of me is mine. The way he cares for me, protects me. The fucking way he looks at me, leaves me unguarded in front of him.
He gently traces every inch of my body, and I can’t help myself but feel relieved that the torture of being so close to him without being able to touch is finally over. It feels so good to know that I almost ask him to claim me again. But I still want to be able to walk in the morning. That’s highly unlikely if we have sex again tonight.
