Page 63 of Sins of a King
“I was supposed to work at the club tonight,” I stated as he set me down on the bed. “But it seems I’m out of a job.”
He reached for the buttons of his white dress shirt and then tossed it aside. His undershirt followed.
My eyes dropped from his face to the skin at his throat, and then lower, to the tautness of his stomach. Thinking and speaking were becoming difficult. Resolve and resolution were far from my thoughts. He dropped his pants and my breath hitched.
He was glorious nude. All sinew, muscle, and strength. Swarthy skin. A devil in an angel’s disguise. His erection was rigid, perfect. I reached out to touch him; the heat of him felt like it burned. Or maybe it was lust flaring in my veins.
I knew there was a risk being with him. I hated his secrets, hated that he kept a part of himself tucked away from me, yet when I was with him, I never felt more alive.
My lips closed over him and he inhaled sharply. My tongue twirled around the crown of his shaft. I licked, nibbled, tasted, drawing him deeper into my mouth. His hands came up to grasp my head.
“Enough,” he said, his voice strained.
I looked at him, wanting him to see my need, my desire. “Afraid you won’t be able to control yourself?”
“I haven’t been able to control myself since I saw you in that French restaurant.”
My brother had bartered me in lieu of his debt, and my life had never been the same. I hadn’t realized that Flynn’s life hadn’t been the same either.
He tugged at my T-shirt and lifted it over my head. His gaze lingered on my skin, and when he went for the waistband of my leggings, he was a little rough.
I didn’t complain.
He settled me onto the bed and then draped his body over mine. Bathing my collarbone in kisses, his tongue darted out to taste my fevered skin. He moved down with gentle care until he was at the heat of me and then his fingertips played with the tender skin on the inside of my thighs.
I quivered, wanting his tongue—him—inside me. I made an impatient sound.
He laughed, his breath shooting over me, but he didn’t give in. Continuing his ministrations, he lapped and laved until I bucked beneath him, coming under his mouth.
Flynn grasped my hips and slid up my body, his erection pressing against me. “I’m clean.”
“Me too. I’m on the pill.”
“Thank God,” he gritted.
I laughed, but it died on my lips as he eased into me.
“Look at me,” he demanded.
We stared into each other’s eyes as he sank into my depths, sheathing himself fully into my tight body. I cried out in pleasure when he began to move, rolling his pelvis and gripping my hips. My hands wove through his hair, and I tugged him closer. Our mouths collided, passion exploding between us.
Another orgasm began to shiver down my spine and then it ripped through me, wrenching a scream from my throat. I clung to Flynn as he thrust deeply a few more times before finding his own release.
I buried my face in his neck, content, sated, and not at all wishing to spoil it with talking.
“You leaving?” I asked when Flynn got up and sat on the side of the bed.
He looked over his bare shoulder at me and grinned. “You want me to go?”
I shrugged. “If you’re so inclined.”
He laughed. “I was going to order food.”
“I thought you were going to take me out to dinner,” I teased.
“I want you to stay naked,” he said, his eyes drifting down my body. “I was going to pay for takeout. That okay?”
“Sweet. Very boyfriend of you.”
