When Sinners Play (Sinners of Hawthorne University 1)

I expect to see more anger in his eyes, maybe even disgust. What I don’t expect to see is a new kind of heat smoldering in his irises. A small, hungry smile curves his lips before they crash down on mine again.

A coppery taste mixes with the taste and scent of Gray, infusing our kiss with the tang of blood. I dart my tongue out to lick the corner of his mouth as if to soothe the hurt I caused, and he groans as he wraps his arms around me, fusing my body to his.

I can feel his heartbeat against mine, and just like that long-ago night at The Silent Hour, it suddenly feels like the only salve for the turbulent emotions trying to break free in my chest is this.

This man’s lips on me.

His hands on me.

His cock inside me.

Gray’s palms skate over the curve of my ass before he lifts me up, wrapping my legs around his waist. I’m barely aware of him walking until we’re in my bedroom and he tosses me down on the bed.

He follows me down to the mattress, his muscled body hovering over mine as he tugs off my shoes, my pants, and my panties before moving up to yank my t-shirt over my head. His hand slips behind my back to unclasp my bra, and as he pulls it away from my body, his eyes darken.

I remember with a sudden shock of awareness that on the night we fucked at the bar and again in the alley, he never got my shirt off. He’s only seen me completely naked once before, when I stripped in front of a roomful of drunken party-goers.

Gray’s tongue sweeps over his full bottom lip as he stares down at me. The bleeding has stopped, although I can still see a small red mark where I bit him. He’s kneeling over me, his thick thighs straddling my hips, holding my bra in his hand like a fucking prize.

It’s too much. The intensity of his stare burns into my skin like a brand, sending a flood of heat racing through me.

My breaths are coming in short gasps as I reach for the button of his jeans—but before I can reach them, he pulls away, shifting backward and settling on his knees between my legs. He tosses my bra aside and palms his cock through his jeans as a deep groan reverberates in his chest.

“You want me to fuck you, Sparrow?”

He sounds a little bit tortured, and a little bit smug too. I’m sure he can read the expression on my face and guess the answer to his fucking question.

But of course that’s not good enough for him.

No. He wants to hear me say it.

My pussy is clenching, my core throbbing, every damn inch of me aching for his touch. Still, I try to find it in myself to deny him the satisfaction of hearing me beg. I press my lips together, refusing to answer as I stare up at him defiantly.

He laughs, a low, dangerous sound that pours from his throat. He’s still stroking himself through his jeans, the movement of his hand rough and harsh.

“Do you want this? Do you want me to fill you up? To stuff you full of my cum?”

Fuck.

I bite down hard on my lower lip, but it’s not enough to stifle my groan. A gush of wetness pulses from me, dripping down my thighs, and I know Gray sees it. His gaze flicks down to my pussy and his entire body shudders, the muscles in his jaw rippling.

When he drags his gaze back up to meet mine, he no longer looks smug. Instead, he looks almost angry, like he’s pissed at me for denying us both what we need so fucking badly.

“Sophie.” His lips wrap around my name the same way they did the first time he said it, and my clit spasms at the sound. “Do you want my fucking cock or not?”

Goddamn Gray Eastwood.

Damn him straight to hell.

With an inarticulate noise, I sit up and grab the front of his shirt with both hands, hauling him down on top of me. Our lips collide in a bruising kiss, and my hands are a flurry of movement as I tear at his clothes, tugging them off with jerky, desperate movements.

He helps me shove his pants down, kicking them off along with his boxer briefs before fisting his shaft and finding the tight wetness of my entrance. There’s a brief st

retch as the head of his fat cock pushes inside me, and then he pitches his hips forward, filling me completely.

“Oh, fuck,” I gasp out.

I dig my fingernails into his back and shoulders as he draws out and slams into me, relishing the feel of his bare skin beneath my hands. Our hookup at the bar and in the alley afterward was world-shattering and intense, but I didn’t realize how much different it would feel to be skin-to-skin with him, nothing at all between us.