Page 23 of Beautiful Sins

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“I deserve it.”

He drags me to the carpet.

He’s filthy rich, but right now, he’s just filthy.

His hands stroke down my body as if he’s memorizing every inch before his mouth comes back to claim mine. It’s brutal, punishing me for every day we’ve been apart.

His grip finds my throat, and a ribbon of fear snakes through me. But it’s overtaken by pleasure as he works a finger inside me. I can’t do anything but arch my back and take him deeper.

“So wet.”

It’s a curse and praise at once.

He drags his cock over my mound, a cruel tease.

I feel as if I’ve never had him inside me. But before he can make good on his implied promise, he parts my legs and shifts down my body.

“First, you’ll beg.”

That dirty mouth settles between my legs. If you can call it settling, because he’s restless, his tongue and lips moving together to drive me wild with need.

A slow, leisurely lick.

A hard suck.

A rhythm more compelling and brutal than anything I’ve ever laid down on a track.

My fingers grasp at the carpet, his hair, whatever I can find. “Oh shit.”

I could tell him how I usually get myself off, but I can’t even think. There’s no way to tell him what to change because I wouldn’t know how to ask for this if I tried.

He plays my body as though he was born to. Not because the first time he touches me is perfect, but because he takes every shiver of my body, every hitch of my breath, every incoherent murmur from my lips, and uses it against me.

The man is a fucking doomsday machine set out to destroy me, to teach my body to ruin itself.

“Tell me you missed me.” His lips vibrate against my skin.

“Your smug elitist mouth? Not likely.”

His fingers twist inside me and I gasp, yanking on his hair. He holds me in place.

“My smug elitist mouth is going to make you scream.”

When I come, it’s a record-setting explosion, even for LA. The aftershocks rack me for seconds, minutes, hard enough my toes ache.

He appears over me, hair mussed, and suddenly he looks ten years younger by virtue of the cocky expression.

I manage to prop myself up on my elbows. “That all you’ve got?”

His low chuckle is sexy as hell. “On the contrary. Just getting started.”

He grabs something from his pants pocket, then graces me with those intense blue eyes while he rolls on the condom.

How I ever thought those eyes were cold I don’t know. They’re white-hot.

He positions himself at my slit, the head of him bumping where I’m wet and making me ache. He sinks into me, an impossibly thick inch at a time.

So full.


Tags: Piper Lawson The Enemies Trilogy Erotic