Lessons in Sin

He fed off my vulnerable energy like a predator with a prey drive.

Regardless of whether I wanted this—dammit to hell, but I wanted it—I wouldn’t let him hurt me.

Fighting my reflexes, I forced my body to give beneath the feral flexing of his hips. I unclenched my fingers and splayed them on his bunching abs, softly, tenderly. Then I stroked his body.

He worked his cock in my mouth like a piston as I stared up at him, loving him with my eyes, adoring him with my hands on his chest, and caressing him with my tongue on his shaft.

A gust of air escaped his throat, a strangled grunt. Then his fingers loosened on my neck. The fist in my hair slid to my face, cupping. His pumping slowed to rocking, his hips sensually rotating, grinding, and his gaze gleaming with more lucidity.

His violent, carnal nature lurked in the depths, but his disposition was calmer, more in control. And that control was a dangerous assault in seduction.

With his hands supporting my face and his cock stroking into my mouth with diabolical precision, he laid siege to my desire. Everything I wanted was right in front of me, staring down at me with something akin to veneration.

How could I not swoon? The sensuous curve of lips, carved jaw, shadow of stubble, and messy brown hair, long enough on top to tangle and yank in the heat of the moment—he was a sculptor’s rendering of perfect masculinity, chiseled in rich marble. A masterly work of art created in homage to the god of beauty.

I felt pretty fucking privileged to have this man in my mouth. The claiming pressure in my throat. The delicious taste of him on my tongue. The guttural sounds in his chest made only for me.

His powerful legs flexed with the roll of his hips. Hard wood dug into my knees. And my hands, in contact with so many honed muscle groups, wandered and explored until I arrived at the rock-hard ridges of his ass.

God help me, my fingers found heaven, tracing the hewed edges and digging into rugged brawn. When I pressed into the hot valley between his cheeks, his glutes clenched, damn near breaking my fingers.

I gave an undignified yelp, which he cut off with a deep thrust. As his rhythm climbed, I focused on sucking, swirling my tongue, and opening my throat. It made him go wild, and I knew he was close.

He pressed in, digging his hips with purpose, chasing his release. The growly, animalistic sounds he made were the most erotic I’d ever heard. Filthy. Sinful. Dangerous.

With his hands controlling the movement of my head, he jerked against my lips, his balls hot against my chin.

Then he came, and holy hell, there was no smothering the loud, convulsive catching of his breath. He buried himself to the root, dropped his head back on his shoulders, and released heavy, hot spurts of salty come.

For long seconds, he heaved for air, lazily fucking my face as if trying to milk himself of every last drop.

“Fuck.” His thumbs absently stroked my cheeks as he stared down at me with a dazed look, his cock pulsing against my tongue.

He slowly pulled back, withdrawing completely. Then he bent at the waist, a glint of cruelty flickering in his blue eyes as he gripped my jaw, holding it closed. “Swallow.”

I smacked his hand away and opened my mouth, tongue out. “Already did.”

He hauled me to my feet. A muscular leg wedged between my thighs. Strong hands clasped my wrists, pinning them to the wall at my back. Then he kissed me, his firm lips overtaking mine with passion and purpose, his hungry tongue invading, claiming every hollow of my mouth.

I’d never been kissed the way this man kissed me. His lips made love to mine with such mastery and heat it felt like an out-of-body experience. As if we were meeting on another plane, floating and entwined in a realm that only belonged to us.

He moved his hands, placing a palm to my throat and the other against my nape, trapping my neck and controlling the angle of my head and the position of my mouth. He kissed me like that, holding my much smaller frame in the cage of his. A cage of power, influence, and potent sexuality.

My lips obeyed his mouth. My gaze followed his eyes. My hands clung to his muscled forearms, my entire body dangling in his strong grasp as he kissed me. With each press of his warm tongue, my pussy clenched harder, hungrier. His hot, wet mouth stoked the flames inside me, and within seconds, he was lifting me up the wall, reaching beneath my uniform skirt, and spreading my legs.

His rigid cock pressed against the soaked gusset of my underwear, ready, waiting.

Please, don’t wait.

I didn’t care where or how. All that mattered was who. It had to be him. I felt like I’d waited my whole life for this man to take me in every way possible.