My eyebrows rise with surprise. All I can do is shake my head. “What’s yours, Rafe? I am not yours. I never was. I never will be.” His hold is finally loose enough that I can back out of it. I’m not sure Sin will even be able to look at me after all that, but hell, maybe now he’ll let me go home. Regardless, I’m done here.
I turn back to Sin, tentatively meeting his gaze. He looks back at me, but his face betrays nothing. I can’t tell if it’s hard to look at me with the visuals Rafe put in his head or not.
“Can we go?” I ask him.
Sin looks at Rafe first, but after a couple beats, he looks back at me. “Yeah. We can go.”
17
Laurel
The ride back to Sin’s house is silent. He doesn’t look in my direction once, and by the time we get to his house, I’m convinced he hates me. Or, maybe hate is too strong a word, but that he’ll never be able to look at me the same way again. Of course he knew I slept with Rafe before we met, but Rafe’s words brought memories to the forefront of my mind, and if Sin’s visuals match up even remotely, I would understand his inability to get that out of his head.
He kills the engine in front of his garage and gets out of the car without a word.
I swallow and push the passenger door open, following him inside the house. The soft click of some mystery woman’s shoes on the pavement remind me that he’s no untouched virgin either, but it’s a defensive thought. The point isn’t that I’ve had sex; the problem is I’ve had sex with his boss. The bigger problem is his boss is an asshole who had to go and bring it up in vivid detail.
Since I feel like I’m the one who has done something wrong, I wait for a cue from Sin. I watch as he moves from room to room, locking the door and setting the alarm. I follow him up the stairs to his bedroom without prompting. He turns on the light and shuts the door behind us. I watch as he unbuckles his belt and hangs it on a hook attached to his wall. Two other black belts hang from it, a dark contrast to the white walls beneath the strips of leather.
He’s still silent, but when he walks up to me, he puts a hand on my shoulder to hold me in place. My pulse skitters as he steps behind me and I feel him drag the zipper down my back. This dress has thin straps and a deep V, so I wasn’t able to wear a bra with it. Cool air hits my skin as the zipper reaches the bottom of the track and stops.
I inhale sharply as Sin’s finger moves beneath the delicate strap. I swallow hard when he drags the strap past my shoulder and down my arm. He does the same thing with the other strap, then his fingers dig into my hips and he pulls me back against him. Desire pours through me when he forces me to feel how hard he is.
I don’t even know why he’s doing this—is this a jealous, wrathful action? Maybe those awful words at the restaurant reminded him I played Rafe’s dirty little whore for a few days, and dirty little whores deserve hard cocks pressed against them. Or did Rafe’s filthy images spark real desire? I’m not sure. I’m only sure that Sin is rock hard and pressing himself against my ass, so I guess if it wasn’t a real date before Rafe’s interference, it is now.
Releasing my hips, he grabs the fabric clinging to them and tugs it down. The material pools around my feet. Now I’m standing here in nothing but a white lace thong. Sin grabs a handful of my ass and squeezes hard, his fingers slipping briefly between my legs before he smoothes his hand over my ass, like he’s making nice for the momentary roughness. Like there’s anything to make up for; I want him to do it again.
We still haven’t spoken, but the sound of my labored breathing says plenty. I stiffen as Sin’s hand touches the center of my back. He drags two knuckles down the smooth curve, dipping into the shallow valley just above my ass and stopping. I think—I hope—he’ll touch my ass again, but instead he pushes his fingers into the sides of my thong and drags it down my le
gs. I squeeze my eyes closed, hair rising up on my arms as his big hands skate down the backs of my calves to remove my panties. My thong joins the dress on the floor and I can scarcely breathe. I don’t know what happens next, only that he’s in control and he hasn’t said a single word. I’m also completely naked, while all he’s taken off is his belt.
I feel him stand behind me, so imposing. His heat hits my back, tempting me to sink back into him. As if sensing that desire, he places his hands on the balls of my shoulders and pulls me back so I collide with the hard wall of his chest. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, so I follow my instincts and let my head drift back against his shoulder. One hand slides around my waist, dangerously near my bare breasts, but he doesn’t cross the invisible barrier to touch them. He just holds me against him, letting me rest my head on his shoulder. It feels unspeakably intimate.
After a moment, he shifts his body and I lift my head. He releases my waist and grabs hold of my shoulders, turning me around to face him. I do, without question. His dark, dangerous eyes meet mine for a few beats. When I don’t move to cover myself or betray any kind of uncertainty, only then does his gaze drop so he can look at me. Just the sensation of his intense stare on my breasts makes my nipples harden. I want his mouth on them. I want him to gather me close, take the peak of my breast into his mouth, to use his tongue to torment my nipple until I’m writhing with need.
He only looks, and the flame of desire building in my stomach jumps like someone threw a gallon of gasoline on it. His gaze drops lower and I suck in a breath, my pussy responding with desire as his hot gaze lingers there. It’s not right that he’s fully clothed, while he has me naked and on display for him this way.
It’s not fair that he won’t touch me. I want him to touch me. I want his hand to go everywhere his eyes have, for those rough fingers to rove every inch of my body before sinking inside me. I’ll hold onto his shoulders while he toys with me, guiding me toward a crushing wave of pleasure.
He finally speaks—one short, hard command. “Kneel.”
I drop to the floor, arousal pooling between my thighs as I dare a look up at him. My heart sinks at the hard, formidable look on his face. I feed it fearless vulnerability. There’s no telling what’s in store for me in this moment, and it’s exhilarating. I don’t know if he’s angry or turned on. I don’t know if he seeks to punish or enjoy. I only know I want to be whatever he needs. Whatever he yearns to give, I long to receive. I want to touch him. I want to peel off those pants and finally allow myself not just a look at the cock I’ve resisted peeking at each night I’ve lain in bed thinking about it, but a taste.
Throbbing with need, my heart pounding in my throat, I inch closer. Sin stands above me motionless, legs spread just enough that I can picture myself in front of him. Since he doesn’t respond or stop me, I inch closer until I’m between his legs, looking up at him for direction. He still won’t give me anything, but his intensity is all I need. His harsh, cold expression causes my heart to sink with fear, my tummy to fill up with flutters, and my loins to sob with need.
There may be something wrong with me.
I don’t give a single fuck.
My heart is in my throat as I press my palms against his thighs. It feels impossibly brave and I can’t tell if it pleases him. I want to—need to please him. Even though he’s still wearing pants, I press my lips to the inside of his thigh, closing my eyes as relief trickles through me. It’s heady, this feeling. I feel powerful and vulnerable all at the same time. With every inch I move closer to his cock, and when I get to that hard bulge, I nuzzle my face against it.
Now his eyes close. It’s the first test of his impassivity and it thrills me. I need more of his response. I want more of his torture or pleasure—maybe it’s all the same thing. Maybe there can’t be one without the other. I bring a hand up to rub him through the fabric, running my mouth along the hard length I feel there. I need to taste him. I reach for the button of his pants and pop it through, but just as I grab the zipper, he grabs my hand and stops me.
I look up, confused. Why is he stopping me? He’s still looking down at me like he wants me; I can see the fire burning in his dark eyes. Instead of fisting his hand in my hair and fucking my mouth until he comes inside it, he reaches his hand down to tenderly caress my face. I don’t know why I’m getting a reward when I haven’t done anything yet, but I nuzzle into it, closing my eyes and soaking it up. My eyes open back up when I feel his thumb press against the seam of my lips. I open up and let him in, sealing my lips around his finger the way I want to seal them around his cock. His gaze hooded, he watches my face as I move my lips over this thumb, as I suck on it the way I want to suck on his crown.
I can still feel him in my mouth when he withdraws. I lick my lips and wait for permission to taste the rest of him, to take him into my mouth the way we both want me to.
Sin takes a step back. His lips curve up faintly, but it’s not quite a smile. “So that’s what it looks like.”