The Secret (The Evolution of Sin 2)

He circled my opening and then entered me to his first knuckle, repeating the movement over and over again until I was a panting mess, writhing in my bonds.

“Hush,” he demanded.

He swatted my heat again, harder this time, jiggling my clamped breasts. I bit off a whimper.

“I said, quiet,” he warned.

He slapped me again and the force radiated through me. I was so close to the edge, my toes on its very precipice, but I had nothing to rub against, no voice to beg with, no power to do anything but accept the pleasure Sinclair doled out to me.

His hands left me for only a second but I immediately missed the contact, my body bowing uncomfortably in an effort to follow his touch.

“I’m going to taste you now, but remember you are being punished. You are not permitted to come and if you do so without my permission…” He trailed off and I knew enough to fill in the blanks.

If I hadn’t wanted to impress him so much, I might have orgasmed on purpose just to see what kind of punishment I would get.

His cool lips fluttered over the inside of my damp thighs, travelling gentle as a breeze to my center and over to the other thigh where he bit down firmly on the flesh. I groaned loudly and was rewarded with a slap on the ass.

“Quiet,” Sin said and then blew cool air across my sex.

His tongue lapped at me carefully, following my folds like a cartographer, and when my knees grew weak, he placed them over his shoulders so that I was practically sitting on him. The sensation of being suspended, reliant on Sinclair for my balance and my ultimate release, was so arousing that I was sweating and grinding my teeth after only thirty seconds to keep from orgasming without his consent.

“Please,” I panted finally, as pins and needles of painful pleasure assaulted my body.

Instead of answering me, he grasped my bottom tightly in both hands and pressed me closer to his mouth. My legs started to shake as I was wracked with pleasure and a scream gathered speed, collecting in my gut and surging through my lungs.

“That’s right, siren,” Sinclair said against the inside of my thigh. “Let go. Show me how much you missed me.”

I was so grateful for his permission that I could have kissed him. But my body reacted before my brain, seizing my pleasure and ripping it from the seams of my body until I spilled open, achingly exposed. I only noticed that I was sobbing when Sinclair stole my breath with a demanding kiss and entered me in one fluid motion. He caught my gasp between his lips, biting my lip and angling his hips as he pumped into me. I tried to lock my legs around his waist but he held them up and out, stretching me until I could feel the delicious burn between my legs.

“The world is watching, Elle,” he panted against my damp neck and my aching sex clenched hard in another brutal orgasm, or maybe the first one had never stopped.

He growled and bit firmly into the base of my neck as he came inside me. I couldn’t see his face but I could sense the impression of it on my closed lids like the imprint of sunlight, glowing so brilliantly it left a scar on my retinas.

Chapter Twelve.

I was glad I had planned a cold supper, because it was after midnight before we dragged ourselves from bed – where we ended up after the kitchen – to refuel. Sinclair carried me to one of the bar stools and retrieved a blanket from the living room to wrap around my naked shoulders so that I wouldn’t be cold. I watched him silently as he moved through the kitchen in only his black boxer briefs, collecting the gazpacho I had made that afternoon, the skewers of prosciutto wrapped melon, a bundle of deep red grapes, a baguette and a gorgeous round of Camembert cheese. His brow was wrinkled in concentration as he arranged everything on two large platters and he frowned further when I laughed at him.

“Yes?”

I covered my mouth with a hand and said, “I won’t judge you on presentation, Sin.”

He shrugged but I caught the sparkles in his eyes before he lowered them back to the work at hand. “You are an artist, of course you will judge me on presentation.”

I tucked my tongue into my cheek and gave his half-nude form a lascivious once over. “Trust me baby, it’s an A+ every time.”

He blinked at me before laughing freely, tipping his golden throat back to bark at the ceiling. I smiled too, and leaned forward to watch him.

“You make a man feel like a God.”

“You are one.”

His eyebrows slammed down and he leaned against the counter to cross his arms, to stare at me disapprovingly. I know it shouldn’t have, but that look always made me wet.

“Don’t put me on a pedestal. I don’t belong up there.”

“I didn’t say you were a God to everyone, Sinclair. Just to me,” I amended.

“After what I just did to you, I’m surprised you would equate me with anything so holy.”