Page 55 of Burned By Sin
Her hand floats beneath the surface of the water until her fingertips graze my thigh, tracing a lazy pattern that makes my pulse quicken. The way her nails scrape against my skin, the way her ass presses against me. It all blurs into one clear meaning. She wants more. Harper’s body softens against mine, openly trusting and wanting, and it undoes all of the discipline I’ve been fighting to maintain.
Cupping her jaw, I twist Harper’s head to look up at me before taking her mouth with mine. Our kiss is powerful, demanding. Unlike any we’ve had before. She melts against my body, utterly captivated by the feel of my lips meshing with hers. Raising my hand to her breast and squeezing, I slip my tongue into her mouth on a gasp. I tease her, alternating between stroking her nipples with the backs of my knuckles and kneading her heavy breasts. She pushes them higher, firmly against my hands.
My fingers trail down the center of her cleavage and abdomen. Her legs open forme automatically as I reach the junction of her thighs, the creamy wetness I find there having nothing to do with the water surrounding us. I relish how ready she is for me. Sliding two fingers inside her, I hold them still while my thumb circles her clit. Harper wriggles impatiently but I hold still, enjoying my delicious torture far too much.
My lips paint kisses across her jaw and neck, my fingers easing in and out of her lazily. Securing her in place with my free arm, her body molds against mine. She whispers my name, begging me to make her cum. Hooking her legs over my widened thighs, she’s fully exposed, and that’s when I relent to her pleas.
Pumping my fingers into her, the water splashes over the side of the tub. Harper’s pants fill the vast space, her nails digging into the arm locked around her. I lick a path back along her flushed neck, her face turning to take my tongue back in her mouth. She bends and writhes, eager to get closer, her hand joining mine to rub against her clit. I feel her tighten around me before she groans against my lips, her back arching and body going taut.
As soon as she’s slumped against me, I cradle her and stand, taking us both out of the tub. Laying her across the thick bathmat, I stand to take in the sight before me. Harper is everything. Gorgeous, tenacious, clever, mesmerizing. Her pink-tipped hair is fanned around her, her lips parted and beckoning me. And her eyes. Those hooded, green, fuck-me eyes will forever be imprinted inside my mind.
Reaching for the condom I found in Wavershit’s bedside table, I rip it open and roll it down the length of my fully erect cock while she watches hungrily. I lower the length of my body over hers, placing kisses along the length of her neck and flicking my tongue across her delectable nipples. Harper parts her legs, expecting me to make slow, sweet missionary love to her. And I will. But right now, I need to show her I can do everything the fucker behind the door can. I can be everything he is for her and more.
Rearing back on my knees, I lock her ankles together in one of myhands and rest them against my shoulder. After placing a gentle kiss on the sole of her foot, I thrust into her in one, delicious move.Fuck, she’s so tight.Harper’s back arches, a gasp mixed with a groan leaving her lips. Warmth seeps through the latex parting us, her slick juices the only reason I managed to fully sheath myself on the first thrust.
I tilt her hips and press her ass cheeks together as I slide in and out of her tight channel. She mewls and pulls at the plush bath rug, her head rolling side to side. Stars burst behind my eyes from how incredible she feels, and I already know I won’t last. I’ve been waiting too long for this. Soon, her pleas have restarted, though this time considerably louder and more urgent. I can’t deny the beauty before me, so I slam into her harder and faster.
My balls slap against her ass with each thrust, my dick ramming into her fast enough to make her breasts bounce vigorously. I take it all in, every stunning detail. The flush of her creamy skin, the pinched expression she makes just before breaking apart on a scream, her hands clawing the threads of the rug. Her pussy closes around me so forcefully, I have to push against them to make sure she doesn’t sever my cock from my body. Releasing her ankles, letting her legs flop to the sides, I lean over her and go as deep as I can. Let her feel me every time she walks, every time she’s with him. She’ll be remembering me.
The soapy water covering our bodies mixes with sweat, my chest sliding against her breasts as I pound into her relentlessly. My eyes hold hers as I chase my own orgasm, desperate to have her the way I’ve been dreaming about non-stop. Her nails claw at my back, her legs locked around my hips and the screams of pleasure…I’ve never been so turned on in my life. My name is on her lips, and I’m determined it will always stay there.
Pressing my forehead against hers, I snap my hips back and forth, a man on a mission as banging starts to sound from behind the door.
“You sneaky fuck!” Wavershit roars. “You’d better open this fucking door!” I fight to keep the tension from my body, continuing to fuck Harper since she can’t hear his shouting. Actually, it spurs me on.Gripping Harper’s jaw, I claim her mouth like a savage before dropping my head to her pierced nipple. Sucking and teasing, I force Harper’s back to arch up off the floor, her hands moving to grip my hair.
“God, Clay,yes.Just like that,” she groans. The banging on the door stalls, then intensifies. Holding her hips at just the right angle, I give her everything I’ve got. She cries out, trembling with pleasure, her body going rigid beneath me. The tightening of her perfect pussy is my own undoing. I snarl as the most intense and satisfying orgasm rips through me, molten hot cum spurting into the latex. Harper explodes with me, following me into the void I would never want to climb out of. I’ll drown for her, so she never has to. I’ll be the life raft to keep her afloat. All I want in return is for her to admit I’m enough. Just me.
Harper’s breath comes in shallow waves against my chest, her body still trembling beneath my large hands. I brush my thumb over the curve of her shoulder, the reality of what just happened sinking in like a stone. For a few fleeting moments, it felt like she was mine, truly and completely mine.
But that illusion fades as quickly as the warmth leaves my skin. Rhys continues to thunder on the door, bringing me back to reality with a sudden realization. What am I doing? Falling for a girl who I fuck on the bathroom floor, her other love interest locked out merely feet away? Are these the lengths I’ll go to simply to have a piece of her? These are questions I don’t want to face the answers to.
So, I lie there, inside the echo of her warmth, pretending that the shudder in my chest is exhaustion and not heartbreak. I could tell her how she makes me feel human again, how every scar and jagged edge inside me feels a little smoother when she’s near. But what good would it do? She’ll always be caught between us. Between his chaos and my calm, between what she craves and what she needs, and I’ll always be the one waiting in the shadows, taking what scraps she gives.
Harper, unaware of my inner turmoil, beams a purely satisfied grin. Her breathing evens out, her fingers tangling with mine as she rolls her head to the side and giggles. It’s then I realize she can feel the vibrationsof Rhys’ pounding through the floor, his shadow lingering beneath the threshold.
I take solace in the fact that Harper doesn’t rush to answer his call, but rather pulls me down to kiss me. Her lips glide over mine leisurely, my cock still pulsing inside of her. My body will never stop responding to her. At least, not until she makes her final decision. This ultimatum hangs over us like a dark cloud now, the clock counting down for me to make a lasting impression. I cannot fail her, and I refuse to fail myself ever again.
Chapter Thirty Three
By the time I sleep off the rest of my hangover and the pleasurable assault Clay did to my body, the man in question is nowhere to be seen.
Rhys is in the kitchen, a hand towel thrown over his bare shoulder. He’s topless otherwise, an inked god moving around the appliances like it’s the first time he’s seeing them. I slide into a stool at the island, content to watch the flex of his muscles, the way his veins pop along the length of his arms. Even the lower V running into his gray sweatpants appears to be extra delectable today.
“Keep staring at me like that, I’ll bend you over this counter and rebrand every inch that fucker dared to touch,” Rhys lifts a spatula and points it at my face. I bite back a smile and openly ogle him again, just to see what he’ll do.
Rhys groans, returning to his task of transferring eggs from a frying pan to two plates. My keen sense of smell picks up on the burnt underside without me needing to see it, and the toast that pops from the toaster is equally as black. If Rhys notices, he doesn’t show it. At least the coffee he slides my way looks and smells heavenly, due to the machine that crafted it.
Rhys throws the pan and utensils into the basin, the view beyond the window obscured by a downfall of rain. The sky above is dark,making it difficult to judge what time of day it is. I’d guess around early afternoon. I could ask Rhys, or better yet, ask if he knows where I’ve left my phone. It’s probably tucked between the sofa cushions and completely dead. I’ve become detached to the device since all forms of technology started being used to spy on me. It’s rather freeing actually, but at some point, I should probably check if Aunt Marg has been trying to contact me.
“Where is Clay anyway?” I ask instead, taking a sip of my coffee.
“He ran away, said he’s never coming back so you should just give yourself over to me,” Rhys replies, joining my side with our ultra-late breakfasts in hand. I roll my eyes at him, before looking at the plate before me. Oh nutsacks, I’m really going to have to eat this.
Cradling my cup, I wait for Rhys to try his food first, watching the way his face pinches. His fork is thrown down with a clutter, making my receivers ring slightly.
“This tastes like horseshit,” he growls, his shoulders going rigid. I laugh behind my hand, sliding my plate away to join his discarded one.
“I can’t say I’m a connoisseur for animal feces, but I’ll take your word for it.” At Rhys’ resentful snarl, I laugh harder, leaning into his side. It really is the thought that counts. “Leave the cooking to me next time.” This changes his own demeanor in an instant.
