Flirting with Sin Page 7

  She stared at him, so ensnared in his erotic offer and the carnal promise in his stare, she couldn’t respond. Couldn’t object when he reeled her closer by slowly twining her hair around his fist. The pulls on her scalp reverberated in her quivering, hungry flesh, drawing more moisture to coat her panties. In the years she’d been with Troy, she’d never been this wet…and except for her hair, Ari hadn’t even touched her—yet.

  The “yet” had her scared as hell and creaming in anticipation.

  So far, she’d managed to hold onto her heart. It’d been a battle, but she’d won. But if he touched her, the last walls around her emotions would crumble and the siege would be over. She’d lose. And the aftermath would be total devastation. Somehow, she knew Ari Sincero would wreak far more damage than Troy or the other men ever could or did.

  She parted her thighs.

  A rumble of approval vibrated in his chest. Slowly, as if granting her an opportunity to change her mind, he shifted closer, his leg pressed to her hip, his chest grazing her arm. He untangled his fingers from her hair and settled them on her stomach. Propping his other arm on the pillow behind her, he again twisted his fingers in her loose waves.

  Drawing her head back until her neck arched, he stared down at her, his narrowed, hot scrutiny steady, relentless. Watching for…

  He skimmed a fingertip up her slit through her pajama bottoms.

  Lightning lanced her, and she bucked against the caress. A low cry escaped her.

  “I got you, baby.” He repeated the stroke over her sex before blazing a trail up her belly. He slid under the low, elastic band of her pajamas. With unerring precision, he dipped beneath her panties and buried a finger in her drenched folds. “I knew it. So fucking wet and hot.” He retraced his erotic path to the top of her sex and circled her clit, delivering a tender pat.

  “I can’t.” She gasped, gripping his wrist with both hands. He stilled, his finger remaining on the engorged bundle of nerves. Unbidden, her hips rolled, stealing one last caress to her flesh. She whimpered. “Please, Ari. I can’t—”

  Desperation born out of panic colored her voice, stripped it of strength so it emerged as a weak whisper.

  “Shhh…” He eased his hand from under her clothes. The grip on her hair also loosened then disappeared. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” With a sweep of his thumb over her cheekbone, he shifted away from her, granting her the space she needed…and hated.

  Jesus Christ, what was wrong with her? She shuddered, clasping her hands in her lap. As if she could contain the warring factors within her.

  “I’m going to leave.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead then rose from the bed. “Good night.”

  She parted her lips to…apologize? Thank him? Object? Hell, she didn’t know. Couldn’t think with her brain calling her an idiot, blaring warnings about self-preservation while her body cried out for him to put his hands back on her. To continue plying her with pleasure.

  Indecision froze her to the bed as he walked out of the room, softly closing the door behind him. Carrying the warmth and light with him.

  Coward.

  The accusation hissed through her brain. Yes. But what was the saying? He who fights and runs away may live to fight another day. By pushing him away now, she would save herself the agony of another heartbreak. He’d already insinuated himself into her heart. Years of fan-girling and these last few days had accomplished that. The tender moments when he’d revealed his pain and grief to her. When he’d showed her a side of himself she doubted many were privileged to witness. When he’d made her feel special, wanted.

  Yet, allowing him inside her body—letting him fill her, complete her—would render removing him impossible. Because he would ruin her for another man when he walked out of her life.

  And he would walk.

  He’d leave without looking back while the next man who entered her life would never measure up to the sensual and amazing force of Ari Sincero.

  No. She squeezed her eyes shut. Maybe she would never be branded by his fierce passion. Maybe she would never experience his taste, the delicious weight of his body on top of hers. Maybe she would never discover the ecstasy his looks, words and touch promised. But at least she would be whole.

  And empty.

  Brave. So fucking brave it’s a little intimidating…

  His praise from earlier in the day rattled in her head like pebbles in a rain stick.

  He’d called her brave.

  Enough to seize what she craved and damn the consequences? To experience and indulge in true, Technicolor rapture before returning to her black-and-white existence? To be able to claim for once she’d taken what she wanted…she’d put herself first?

  Before the thought fully formed, she vaulted off the bed, rushed across the room and bolted out the door. Ari turned as she charged into the living area. She didn’t hesitate, didn’t slow. Just leapt.

  And he caught her.

  Thrusting her fingers through his dark curls, she yanked his head down. Crushed her mouth to his. Groaned as his earthy, wild flavor exploded on her taste buds. She opened her lips wider, tilted her head, delving deeper for more. More of his taste, more of him. God, he was…was there a word to capture the headiness of the first thrust, the first lick, the first moan of pleasure? Maybe, maybe not. Who gave a damn? She just craved more.

  With one hand buried in her hair and the other cupping her ass, he hoisted her higher, closer. She might have initiated the kiss—if this consuming could be labeled something as anemic as a kiss—but he wrenched control of it away from her. Her head arched back on her neck. Her tongue followed his lead. Her whimpers pleaded for a harder, rougher claiming. He dominated her, gave her a preview of how he would fuck her.

  Raw. Uninhibited. Completely.

  She jerked away and unhooked her legs. Disappointment and frustration flashed in his bright eyes, but he returned her to her feet and didn’t tug her back. His patience and restraint empowered her. Did he know by placing the choice in her hands, he offered her a safe haven in this unfamiliar, erotic storm she treaded?

  Of course, he did. Though she could count on one hand the number of days they’d known each other, Ari possessed more insight into her heart, her soul, than anyone. Even her twin sister.

  Courage. The reminder whispered inside her head as she balled the bottom of his T-shirt in her fists and drew it up, up, up and off. His hard, bare chest with its pierced nipples, ridged abs and delineated hips met her greedy gaze. Christ, he was gorgeous. Like a timeless sculpture placed in a museum for people to marvel and lust over. Beauty forever captured in golden flesh and bone. Except he wasn’t a statue. He was a sensual creature created for decadence and sin. And for tonight, at least, he was hers.

  She flattened her palms on his pectorals, the cool metal of the small barbells pressing into her skin. Heat like honey, thick and sweet, flowed through her, tightening her own nipples into rigid points beneath her tank top and gathering in a molten pool between her legs. Unable to resist, she flicked her nails over the piercings. His answering growl vibrated beneath her hands, his pleasure obvious. So she did it again. And again.

  Rough, almost bruising hands gripped her hips. The long stiff length of his cock ground against her belly, igniting a fury of sparks and mini-explosions in the deepest part of her. The part clenching and rippling with an aching emptiness demanding to be filled.

  “Pull on them.” His demand was ragged, hungry. “With your mouth.”

  She didn’t hesitate to comply. Parting her lips over a small, dark-brown nub, she curled her tongue around the piercing…tugged. And sucked.

  “Fuck,” he snarled, holding her head to him. “That’s it. Don’t be afraid of hurting me. Harder.”

  Employing her teeth, she grasped the barbell, drew on it, on him, flicking and licking his nipple. His groans drove her on and, loosing a low moan of her own, she switched to the neglected tip. With one last, slow sweep over flesh and metal, she lowe
red. Down his chest, between his abs, following the faint arrow of soft hair that disappeared beneath his low-hanging jeans.

  Kneeling before him, she popped open the button.

  “Baby.” He covered her hand with his, squeezing even as his eyes burned with lust and hunger. “You don’t have to.”

  She shook her head. Yeah, she did. Every fantasy she’d envisioned and imagined in the darkest hour of night had led her here. On her knees. His cock stretching her mouth. His come on her tongue. Tonight was for fulfilling those dreams.

  The hushed echo of his zipper lowering reverberated in the room. His chest rose and fell on harsh inhales, his hand falling away to smooth a long soothing caress over her hair. Cup her cheek, chin. The silent permission emboldened her, and she reached inside his jeans—no underwear for her rock star—and freed his cock.

  She swallowed. Hard.

  Damn. Long, almost brutal and club-like in its thickness. Veined. Intimidating…beautiful. She wasn’t a virgin; she’d seen a few penises in her lifetime. But she’d never considered any lovely in the way of a primal, fierce animal. Hunger pinched her. A hunger surpassing food. This was deeper, rawer, brutish.

  Gripping the broad base, she pumped the rigid flesh, loving the stroke of satiny skin sliding over unyielding muscle. The dichotomy fascinated her. She arrowed the heavy column toward her waiting mouth, anticipation a living heat in her veins.

  Ari’s hips bucked, the wide, ruddy head, damp with pre-cum, nudged her lips. She licked the tip, hummed at his salty, rich flavor. Went back for more.

  One more lap, and then she engulfed him.

  “Oh damn, baby.” He groaned. “Goddamn. Wait. Hold on.” She paused in her downward glide, and he traced a fingertip around her parted lips. “So fucking pretty. Even lovelier than I pictured.” He buried his fingers in her hair, twisting the strands. “Now, suck my cock like you love it.”

  With a low hum, she obeyed, dipping her head and taking as much of him as she could manage. Her mouth bumped her fist before she withdrew, loving the drag of his staff on her tongue. She traced the throbbing vein running along the length, circling the hood before suckling the tender spot tucked beneath. Ari’s hold tightened, his curses grew hoarser, rougher. Dirtier. The wild taste of him, the heavy weight of him, the eroticism of his demands…they set her on fire. Her clit pulsed, and one swipe of her finger would undoubtedly set her off, send her over the edge into release. But touching herself would require letting go of his cock, and she couldn’t do it. Not when every stroke and squeeze further unraveled his leash on control.

  Flattening her tongue, she swallowed more of him. The head prodded the narrow opening of her throat, and she gagged, the reaction reflexive and immediate. Frustration flared inside her.

  “Relax.” He trailed a finger down the front of her neck. “Breathe through your nose and relax.” Closing her eyes, she deliberately loosened the muscles in her throat and exhaled through her nose. He pulled free then slid back in until the tip slipped into the tight channel. She controlled her reflex, allowing him inside.

  “That’s good,” he murmured. He repeated the claiming, going deeper with a soft grunt. “God, that’s good. Now keep your mouth stretched wide and hold on to me.”

  She took him at his word and grabbed his hips. Held on as he fucked her mouth. He wasn’t gentle. Didn’t take it easy on her. His cock thrust in and out, and she gloried in his passionate, carnal treatment. She was wanted—needed. And she surrendered to his desire…her desire. With every withdrawal, she sucked hard, deeper, worshipping him, hauling graphic praise from him.

  “I’m going to come, baby. Fuck,” he growled. “If you don’t want me filling that pretty mouth, pull back.” Her only response was to curl her tongue around the swollen cockhead, and he loosed a hoarse chuckle. “You want me, yeah? Good.”

  One slow, slick glide until his rigid flesh filled her mouth. Her throat spasmed around his cock, and he swore. Erupted.

  Stream after stream of his salty, yet so-incredibly sweet cum jetted past her tongue as he pumped his cock, giving her everything he had. And she took it all. Wanting every last drop.

  “Jesus,” he rasped. “Jesus Christ.” Yanking her to her feet, he pressed his forehead to hers. “I need…” A hard shiver rocked his large frame. He didn’t complete the thought, but hiked her into his arms, palming the backs of her thighs, and carried her to her bedroom.

  A moment later, her back bounced off the mattress and her pajama bottoms and underwear were stripped down her legs. Air danced over her wet flesh. God, the amount of moisture coating her folds was indecent. Embarrassed, she brought her thighs together, but Ari was there, his wide shoulders keeping her spread open and exposed for his gaze.

  A flush stained his cheekbones. Passion tautened his skin, making his mouth appear fuller. He shifted his attention from her sex to her face, and lust gleamed in his tiger eyes.

  “When I first met you, I wondered if your pussy tasted like your skin. Vanilla and chocolate. Sweet sin. Then I didn’t think I would ever find out. But now?”

  His stare remained fixed on her. But his finger—good God, his finger—dipped between her slit and gathered the evidence of her desire. Lashes lowered, he sucked her cream clean. A low rumble reminiscent of a large, hungry cat rolled in his chest. A sensual smile curved his lips. As if he savored the most delicious treat.

  “Ari…” She reached for him, but he dodged her and lowered his head.

  “Now I’m about to eat you out and I’ll still want more.” One long lick, and she cried out, hips jerking toward his mouth. He groaned. “I’ll never get my fill of this sweet pussy.”

  He devoured her.

  Greedy licks, hard strokes, teasing flicks. He didn’t leave one inch of her flesh undiscovered. He feasted on her like a starving man, delivering hot, open-mouthed kisses to her folds and clit before sucking the engorged bundle of nerves. His tongue alternated between circling and flicking the nub, shoving her closer and closer to an edge she scrambled from even as she raced toward it.

  “Ari,” she pleaded, clutching his head. Her hips surged and jerked, riding his mouth, demanding more. “Please. Goddammit, please…” She was there…almost there.

  He thrust two fingers into her sex.

  And she exploded.

  Her body seized, and pleasure cracked over her, through her. Dimly, her screams permeate the air but, God, she couldn’t stop, couldn’t silence them. With his mouth and fingers, he’d transformed her into a carnal creature she didn’t recognize.

  “Be right back.” He planted a burning kiss to her throbbing clit and she flinched, her flesh too sensitive. “Don’t move.”

  As if. She could barely breathe, much less lift a muscle.

  He disappeared from the room, his jeans loose around his hips. Moments later, he returned, a condom in his hand. With hurried, practiced movements—she refused to dwell on how practiced—he ripped open the foil packet and sheathed himself. After removing his clothes, he climbed on the bed and crouched over her, his bright gaze blazing down into hers.

  Silence fell between them.

  She stared at him, memorizing every angle, curve and feature. The high arch of his dark eyebrows. The beauty of his eyes. The sharp, almost haughty cheekbones. The sexy fullness of his mouth. She saved them all in her mental hard drive to download later after this week had ended and she returned to the “real world.” A world without Ari except for glimpses of him on television, the computer and magazine covers at the grocery store.

  Sweeping a caress over the piercing in his eyebrow and lip, she raised her head and brushed a gentle kiss across his mouth. He opened for her, licking inside and thrusting deep for a connection surpassing skin and bone. She’d been afraid having sex with him would be her downfall. How laughable. And delusional. From the moment she’d held him as he clung to her, drunk and grieving over a dead woman, she’d started her slippery slide toward love.

  A sense of the inevit
able settled in her heart, along with fear and a resigned acceptance. She couldn’t turn back now. Didn’t want to. If this moment was all she would have of him, then she would grab hold and treasure this time for all it’s worth. The eventual pain…well, she’d deal with it. She had no choice.

  “Please,” she whispered against his mouth. “I need you inside me.” Rocking her hips, she ground her sex against his cock. Need writhed inside her, growing more frantic and fierce with each passing second.

  His hooded gaze remained fixed on her as his cockhead nudged her folds. He pressed forward, penetrating her. Stretching her with a delicious burn. Filling her with his thick, long cock. Feminine apprehension fluttered inside her belly as he kept forging forward, driving more and more of himself inside her. Still, she’d never been so branded. So…complete.

  He groaned, the tendons in his neck and arms straining in stark relief. “Damn, you’re tight. Like a fucking fist. Just a little more, baby.” He glanced down between them where the last few inches and fattest part of his dick yet remained to be sheathed inside her. “You can take me.”

  Whimpering, she planted her feet on the mattress and tilted her hips. With a tortured growl, he plunged deeper, dragging a scream from her throat at the pleasure-pain of his full possession.

  “That’s it.” He held still above her, the effort of not moving evident in the rasp of his voice, the golden skin pulled taut across his cheekbones, and the glitter in his narrowed eyes. “Goddamn, I knew it would be this good. So wet. Hot. You’re fucking burning me alive, baby.”

  He took her mouth and kissed her for several long moments. The stings of pain and discomfort faded under the onslaught of his lips and tongue and the pleasure swamping her. Her muscles rippled around his length, adjusting to the intrusion. She shifted restlessly beneath him, silently pleading for him to move, to fuck.

  As if hearing her unspoken plea, he withdrew until only the tip of him remained inside then thrust, burying his entire length inside her. She cried out, scratching his sweat-dampened back, hooking her ankles above his clenching ass. He rode her hard, not conceding her any mercy. An erotic soundtrack encompassed the room. Loud slaps of skin against skin. The suction of wet flesh. His moans and harsh curses, her keening whimpers.