Tainted Bastard (Tainted Knights 4)

His head lowered until his nose skimmed over my cheek. “A kiss,” he breathed.

It was a wonder the room didn’t suddenly fill with fog the way my body immediately went both hot and cold. Kiss Sin. I would be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about doing just that a hundred times since meeting him. Sometimes, before the nightmares invaded my sleep, I would dream of him pressing me up against the wall in the green room and devouring my mouth.

It was bliss in the most innocent form of my imagination, because even though Sicko Stan took away every other innocence I had, he’d never once kissed me. I had no experience in that department other than seeing other people do it.

But I wasn’t sure I could actually kiss Sin in reality. What if I didn’t do it right and he laughed?

While I was struggling internally, Sin touched his lips to the corner of my mouth. That gentle contact was as powerful as if he’d electrocuted me. My heart skipped a beat and need burned through me, only to settle low in my gut, making my panties damp. I gasped in surprise.

Taking advantage of my slightly open mouth, he skimmed the tip of his tongue over my bottom lip, giving me just a tease of his taste, creamy sweet coffee with a hint of something much more addictive than caffeine. One of his hands cupped my jaw, his thumb brushing over the corner of my mouth, silently urging me to open wider for him.

Too lost in his taste, in the simple yet enticing feel of his lips and tongue tempting me to kiss him back, I let him have whatever he wanted. When his tongue brushed over my own, I moaned in surprised pleasure.

I forgot to feel embarrassed, forgot about being scared, and enjoyed every second of his kiss.

The hand cupping my jaw moved into my hair, his fingers knotting the strands at the root and tilting my head back so he could deepen his invasion.

It wasn’t until I felt his other hand skimming up my side, his fingers brushing over my breasts, that I jerked back, my heart pounding. Sin lifted his head, and I watched in fascination as he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, as if savoring the taste of me. His eyes were bright with a hunger that startled me, but he smiled and touched his lips to my forehead before pulling away.

“You taste so fucking good, sweet girl,” he groaned.

Heat filled my cheeks, but I couldn’t look away from him. “Was that…okay?”

He jerked, surprised by my shy

ly asked question. “Don’t you know?” I lifted one shoulder in an embarrassed half shrug. “Ro, was that your first kiss?”

My lack of answer was all the confirmation he needed.

One second, I was sitting on the couch; the next, I was on his lap and his hands were tangled in my hair, his lips back on mine. This kiss wasn’t nearly as gentle as the first, but I was just as into it. I liked how he groaned against my lips before he crushed them with his own.

The way he was in complete control should have scared the hell out of me, but for some reason, it didn’t. I leaned into him, my hands pressing against his chest, and let him teach me to kiss.

When he lifted his head sometime later, my lips felt sore and swollen, and we were both breathing hard. His jaw clenched and unclenched, and under my hip, I felt just how much he was into our little make-out session.

“You never should have let me kiss you,” he breathed, pressing his forehead against mine.

“Wh-Why not?” I asked shakily.

“Because now I’m not going to be able to stop. Knowing I’m the only fucker to ever taste your lips is driving me fucking insane, Ro.” His hands fell to my hips, readjusting me on his lap, pressing me down into his hardness. “I want you so goddamn bad right now.”

“Sin… I…”

He lifted his head until our gazes locked. As he saw the panic in my eyes, some of the lust faded from his gaze, and he pulled my head down onto his chest. “Shh, it’s okay. I’m not going to touch you like that. Not yet. Not ever, if that’s what you want. I would never force you, sweet girl.”

I sagged with relief and embarrassment, pressing my face into his shoulder. “I-I know,” I whispered. “I’m sorry.”

I felt his lips touch the top of my head. “Don’t be. We can go as slow as you want. But could you please stop pushing me away and calling me your damn friend?”

“You don’t want to be my friend?” I couldn’t hide the quiver in my voice and pressed my face harder against his shoulder, breathing in deep the scent of his body wash and deodorant.

“Ro, look at me,” he commanded.

I shook my head, hurt that he didn’t want me to consider him my friend. I didn’t have many. My soul sisters and he were my closest, and I didn’t want to lose that. Coming to see him was a bad idea. That kiss was amazing, but it seemed to have ruined everything.

“Ah, sweet girl,” he muttered. Wrapping my long hair around his wrist, he pulled my head back, making me look at him. “I want to be more than your friend, Roanna. So damn much more. I’ve always wanted more, but you wouldn’t let me close enough to show you that.”

“I have my reasons,” I mumbled. Like needing the extra protection of keeping him firmly in the friend zone, so whenever I happened to see him with someone else, it wouldn’t hurt. Which, in all honesty, hadn’t worked at all. That shit stung every single time I saw him at the gym talking to other women. And the few times I’d seen him leave with them had been like someone poured acid directly onto my heart. It was agony, but at least I could remind myself that we were just friends. Nothing more.