Page 91 of Made for Cyn

“Fuck,” he growls, thrusting into me like a wild animal.

“Cyn,” I cry, tucking my trembling lips behind my teeth and wrapping my legs around his waist.

He looks so beautiful in his ferocity that I’m spellbound and when a pained expression crosses his face, I arch against him, needing for him to feel what I do. He grabs my legs, pressing them to my chest before bottoming out with a deep groan and an ache blooms inside my core, but it’s the best kind. Arching against him, I feel his cock spasm and squeeze, my heart thumping when he slams his eyes closed and drops his head to my chest.

Panting, I battle the wobble on my lips and bury my fingers in his silky hair, wishing for things I’m not sure I’ll ever get to have.

Still, this moment feels more intimate than any other with him, and I fight back the hope blooming inside me because I’m afraid it’s all about to fall apart before it even begins.

But it solidifies my decision to stay far away from Saul because how can I have sex with him after the amazing moments with Cyn? It would only ruin something so beautiful, and I’m tired of losing these things to the horror.

“Yo, you two done? Let’s go!” Jig calls through the door and I gasp.

Cyn looks up with a grunt and pulls free, groaning under his breath. Sitting up, I cover my chest even though Jig can’t see and glance around as Cyn shoves himself back in his pants and zips up. Dazed, I awkwardly hop from the counter and pull my shirt back down my torso, wondering absently if my bra is still in Cyn’s bedroom.

When I glance in the mirror, I give a silent thank you to the universe that Cyn was too caught up in what we were doing to stare at my reflection.

My sordid secret is safe for another day, but how long can I keep this going?

“Here,” he says gruffly, helping me into my pants.

Bemused, I watch him as he avoids my gaze with a furrowed brow. Does he feel the pull I do? Or is that my imagination?

Still, he takes me into his arms and kisses me on the forehead before leading me from the bathroom. Dazed, I follow with my hand in his, perfectly stunned that he showed a tender side I’m not sure I even knew he had.

Studiously ignoring Jig’s wide grin and Iris’ hostile stare, I doze on the way back to town, waking up snuggled under Cyn’s arm.

Once we reach the limits, Iris speaks up from beside me, “I need my car.”

“We’ll have someone drop it off,” Cyn says dismissively, but Iris frowns.

“I need my car,” she says quietly, and I agree, but her next words send a chill down my spine. “Besides, you can’t drop us off.”

“Why?” Jig asks, turning around in the front seat.

“Because there are rules,” she says sullenly.

“Such as?” Cyn asks, glancing down at me with a dark frown.

“No dating,” I whisper. “Maybe you could just drop us at her car?”

Cyn’s eye twitches. “No.”

“You don’t understand. You’re only going to make it worse,” Iris says.

“Worse how?”

But she tightens up and turns away, and I say softly, “Please.”

Cyn looks at me with a grumpy frown, and I smile with a pulse in my heart when he sighs and turns away with a scowl. “Fine.”

Sagging with relief, I open my mouth to thank him, but he cuts me off. “But you will call me if there’s trouble. Do you understand?”

“Um—”

“In this, I will not budge, beauty. If you come back to me with a single welt, bruise, or mark, I will fucking kill.”

“Okay,” I say, stunned.

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