Page 46 of Burned By Sin
“I want you like this.” A physical pain strikes me, so intense that gasp passes my lips. Her words bounce around my mind, hope and self-loathing drowning them out. Shifting my hands from her arms to her head, I pin her against me, a thousand words on my tongue, but I can’t put any of them into a coherent sentence. Luckily, I don’t have to.
Tugging herself free, Harper drags me towards the bed, her steps careful and precise. Lying us down, our heads are on the pillow, facing one another. Harper is beauty personified, like the calmest of seasbathed in the glow of the most perfect sunset. From her hair framing her heart-shaped face to the creamy cleavage exposed in a black bra. I feel unworthy just looking at her.
“I don’t know what…tell me what to do.” I beg like a virgin.A freaking virgin. I’m stripped bare, tears prickling the backs of my eyes, but I won’t let them fall. No matter what, I’ll never be that vulnerable little boy again.
“Hold me Rhys,” her voice cracks slightly. “Show me we can be more than everyone says.” And in that moment, I decide nothing will hold me back from doing just that. Pushing the sweats down my legs in smooth, unhurried movements, I maintain her gaze. Her leggings go next, then her underwear and my boxers. Piece by piece until we’re fully naked and scarcely touching.
This time when I kiss her, I worship her. I give her every broken piece of me, offering it up like a sacrifice. Her lips caress mine slowly, each one like a balm to my being. I cup her cheek, brushing my index finger against the metal disc beneath the skin behind her ear. Harper has more strength than I ever have or will. I’m weak in comparison to her.
Every part of our bodies comes together, our legs tangled and hands exploring. Harper’s mouth trails across my jaw and neck, and I simply hold her as she asked. Each hidden scar she discovers beneath my tattoos, she bends to press a kiss against it as if banishing it from existence. I tremble, fighting the urge to be rough, allowing her to investigate my body and soul with her lips and desire.
It would be laughable to think such gentle touches could have my cock pulsing, but here I am, hard as stone. Harper scores her nails across my thighs, forcing a hiss from my lips. She ducks lower but I stop her. This isn’t about just my pleasure, or just hers either. This is about us standing in the eye of a hurricane together, the winds of uncertainty and misconceptions whipping around us.
Hooking her leg over my hip, I catch myself this time, pulling a condom from my bedside table and rolling it on before fully sheathingmyself inside her. She’s so tight, I can’t fight a groan. Her hands flatten on my chest, her own moans filling the air as I roll my hips against her. I repeat the motion over and over until my skin is lined with a sheen of sweat.
It’s almost painful to take her this slowly, to savor her cries every time the metal of my piercing smooths over her G-spot. Harper tucks her face into my neck but I drag her back, forcing her to watch how she’s undoing me. How she’s destroying me.
With my arm beneath her head, her breasts crushed against my chest, our hearts thump wildly against one another. I wind her leg further round my waist and roll her onto her back. Harper’s eyes roll back in her head with the new position deepening how far my cock can sink into her. Slow and steady, primal yet profound. I hold her on the edge of the climax fluttering within her perfect cunt, denying us both.
I thought Harper was beautiful before, but now. Holy shit. Her lips are parted in bliss. Her neck is flushed, her hair untamed. Rocking my hips in time with hers, together we fall into the abyss. There’s no start and end, there’s just the building pressure between us. I already know I’ll never be the same after this. Pulling me down, Harper pleads for the release she needs against my lips. I shake my head, the tips of our noses brushing.
This is too incredible to let it end. With how tightly her pussy is gripping my cock, her orgasm would set off my own, and I’m not ready for it. Her nails dig into my back, her thighs squeezing my waist as her ankles lock around me. This connection is unbreakable.
Harper’s heat seeps through me, sparking the wick to my internal dynamite. When it reaches the end of the fuse, everything I previously was will explode and I can start to rebuild with her by my side.
“Rhys, please,” Harper begs, her teeth sinking into my neck like a damn vampire. Her nails scratch deeper, seeking a pain reaction from me, and she gets it. Slamming into her harder, Harper’s back arches and she screams out. I do it again, hitching her hips higher, thrusting into her deeper. My balls slap against her ass, my muscles tighteningand starting to shake. Her moans grow louder, my name a constant on her lips. Those nails scratch my back to shreds, those blunt little teeth drawing blood.
There’s no stopping now, I will chase this girl into oblivion and happily lose myself in the process. Picking up my movements, I finally give her what she’s begging for. My movements become jerky and rash, sweat pebbling my ink skin as I fuck her senseless.
“Break for me now, Babygirl,” I mutter against her ear, fully aware she can’t hear me. “Break for me like I have broken for you.”
Chapter Twenty Eight
Considering how far behind Addy’s team was the other day, I’m genuinely shocked they managed to pull this off. Beams of light slice through the night sky above the gymnasium, and a red carpet winds up the hill like something straight out of a movie premiere. A line of students stretches ahead of us, one that Rhys tried to skip to the front of until I held him back.Barely.
His arm is linked with mine, that telltale smirk finally back in place after too long. I’d insisted we dress up a little tonight, which led to dark jeans, an unbuttoned shirt halfway down his tattooed chest, and slicked-back hair for him. The result is a dangerous combination that should probably come with a warning label.
I went for an off-the-shoulder navy sweater that falls to my thighs, cinched with a belt at the waist, and knee-high boots. Clay looms just over my right shoulder, all quiet storm and watchful eyes. He wasn’t exactly thrilled that me and Rhys snuck off to make love – because that’s exactly what it was - during his counseling session, but true to his word, he hasn’t made an issue of it either. In a red flannel and tan cargos, he’s giving serioushot-lumberjack-in-a-beanieenergy.
The line inches forward at a snail’s pace, and every irritated shuffle Rhys makes has me giggling. I left my receivers back at the dorm,figuring tonight would be too loud for my implants to handle. Both guys are wearing microphone clips, so I’ll still catch background noise, but their voices will cut through.
By the time we make it inside, the bleachers are already packed. I’d bet half the student body is here. Kenneth sits around halfway back and waves like a maniac when he spots Clay and me, until Rhys scowls in his direction and Kenneth promptly drops out of sight behind the crowd.
The gym is unrecognizable. Fabric drapes in soft folds across the ceiling, the wooden stage covering the court lines, and a section near the locker room has been roped off. Contestants are clustered on the bleachers behind the stage, too focused on their last-minute prep to watch the show.
Volunteers with yellow lanyards guide people to their seats. A mousy-haired boy with a young face turns as we approach, and I instantly recognize him as the guy that gave me the drugged coffee. I never asked Rhys what he did to him outright, but the way his eyes go wide at the sight of the man on my arm, I can make an educated guess.
“M-M-Master Waversea,” he stammers formally. “We’ve reserved a space on the front row for you and your… friends.” His gaze flicks nervously between us before darting toward three empty seats front and center.
Rhys strides ahead, barking at people to move their legs while I awkwardly shimmy past knees and handbags to follow. I slump into my seat, ignoring the waves of judgment burning into my back. I may have made a few friends within the science students, but none of those are present now. Thankfully, the lights dim almost instantly, and a spotlight cuts across the stage. Addy steps into the glow looking absolutely stunning in a pink and cream jumpsuit, sky-high heels, and lipstick as bold as her hair.
“Welcome, students of Waversea and members of the faculty!” she shouts into the mic. Cheers and whoops erupt behind us, and both guys beside me quickly cover their mic clips so the noise doesn’t blastthrough. Leaning forward, I spot the staff section down the aisle. Peterson and Hargreaves are a few rows back, whispering to each other in a way that looksa little too cozy.
Addy launches into the pre-rehearsed speech I’ve had to sit through every evening this week in our dorm, thanking everyone who helped, including the cheer squad for fundraising by washing cars half-naked. A particular section in the crowd roars with whoops, a group of jocks punching their fists into the air. No doubt they are the ones who have sparkling clean cars out in the parking lot. I keep my attention on Addy, marveling at how she can be such a natural up there, her usual bright and magnetic self.
“Well, let’s get on with it, shall we?” she grins. “First up tonight, Katrina Keys and her amazing contortionist act!”
The applause swells as a petite blonde steps onto the stage in a gem-studded leotard, her hair twisted into a tight bun. Classical music swells through the speakers, and Katrina bends backward into a bridge before crawling through her own legs. Then she props her chin in her hands and casually folds her feet over her head like it’s the most normal thing in the world. As impressive as it is, the act starts off slow after several impossible handstands and twists, a mumble passing through the audience.
