Lessons in Sin

“You’re gorgeous.” I prowled toward her.

“You’re evasive. And I guess you’re not completely awful on the eyes.” Rather than retreating, she stepped into me and slid her hands around my hips. “This ass, though.”

She squeezed my backside with bold fingers.

I touched my mouth to hers, basking in the feel of her pouty lips. They pushed out, begging to be sucked and licked and bitten. I ran my nose alongside hers and skimmed my hands down her shoulders. Simply touching her like this put me in such a state of warm, peaceful happiness. It didn’t feel real.

None of this felt real. Apart from the supple scoops of tits in my hands with their pointy, irresistible peaks. These were definitely real. And her soft mouth against mine. Didn’t get more real than that.

I banded an arm around her lower back, hauling her close as I captured her lips, devoured her breath, shredded her clothes, and fucked her against the wall.

Her moans vibrated against my throat, and my cock stroked in and out, the friction slick and hot and so damn addictive.

I moved her to the couch to leverage my thrusts, but I couldn’t get deep enough. I tried to bury myself inside her—my body, my entire being—digging harder, heavier, with more and more intensity.

“Fuck, Tinsley.” My breaths were choppy and feverish, our tongues tangling outside of our mouths, our lips coming together, parting, and colliding again. “So fucking good.”

“Is it always this good?”

The heat of her pussy molded to me like a wet glove, made for me. The shape of her body fit snugly in the bend of mine, flexible, pliable, the perfect size for me to position and carry around. Her eyes never left mine, staring so fucking deep into my soul I felt stripped, exposed, and vulnerable in a way I could never let myself be with anyone else.

“No.” I stroked my knuckles along her beautiful face. “No, it’s never felt like this.”

Her sexy softness absorbed my hardness as I took her in every room of the cabin. On the rug before the fireplace, bent over the kitchen table, against the shower wall, and in my bed, I tore her pussy in half. And I was only getting started.

I would never get enough of her. Not in two weeks. Not in a lifetime.

Hours later, we lay in bed, naked, exhausted, serene. She sprawled facedown across my chest, her cheek on my heart and her gaze angled toward mine. We stared at each other for the span of a timeless moment, floating in postcoital bliss.

As her eyes grew heavy and her blinks grew longer, I knew I was losing her for the night.

I reached over and shut off the light, my hand going to her long, satiny hair, stroking from roots to tips. “You’re my first.”

“Your first girl to pee on the floor.”

“Yes.”

“Your first to bleed on her shoes.”

“Yes.”

“Your first tampon insertion.”

“Yep.” I felt my lips quirking into a smile, such a strange sensation.

“Man, I’m classy as fuck.”

“You’re classy, even under duress. Especially then.”

“Thank you.” She kissed my chest, her voice drowsy. “I’m your first orgasm in a church.”

“First and second.”

“Oh, yeah. The confessional blow job.” She sighed. “That was so hot.” Her eyes drifted closed. “What else?”

“You’re my first overnight.”

“Like the first girl to sleep beside you?”

“The very first person.”

“Ever?”

“Ever.”

“Happy to help you work through those commitment issues,” she murmured, snuggling closer to my neck.

I hadn’t allowed this level of intimacy with anyone, not even my regular lovers. When I wasn’t fucking a woman, I didn’t want her around.

The soft rhythm of her breathing told me she’d fallen asleep. The warmth of her body atop mine lulled me to follow her.

“You’re my first.” I ran my fingers through her hair, content to my marrow. “And my last.”

CHAPTER 32

MAGNUS

I woke with her mouth on me.

A warm, delicate mouth sliding along my semi-erection, making me harder with each breathy pass.

“You were soft just a second ago.” Tinsley pressed her smile against the crown, her golden hair shining in the morning light. “I woke early just to get a glimpse of the rare sighting. You were so adorably squishy and limp—”

“Less talking, more sucking.” I shoved her face down and thrust.

She choked and came up for air, laughing. “And big. I was going to say that but—”

I pulled her mouth down on me again while driving my hips. Christ Almighty, my balls drew up. My toes curled, and my back bowed as overwhelming pleasure surged through me.

She took my cock to the back of her throat as if it were her penance. Then she took me between her legs as if I were her lifeline.

Tinsley Constantine didn’t need any man to save her. But I wanted to be the one she depended on. Everything inside me demanded I provide for her, starting with a means of escape from the future her mother was scheming.