Page 71 of Taken By Sin
But just as I let myself settle into the quiet, I hear a faint click behind me—a sound too sharp to ignore. Before I can turn around, cold metal presses against my temple. My heart stops in my chest, and a shiver runs down my spine.
“Sin?” I croak. There’s a long pause, and then the sound of a sharp intake of breath. The tension in his posture shifts, likehe’s realizing what he’s done. Slowly, the pressure against my temple eases just a fraction. He lowers the gun, the click of the safety giving way to a tense quiet.
He steps closer, and I can feel the warmth of his body, the quiet power that radiates from him even when he’s not speaking.
He turns me to face him, “Magnolia, I could have fucking killed you.” He exhales.
“I—I just missed you,” I whisper, the words slipping out before I can stop them. My heart is still racing, my breath shaky, but I can’t bring myself to move.
Sin doesn’t say anything for a moment, the silence hanging between us like a weight. Then, slowly, he reaches his hands to cup my face. The gun brushes against my cheek, cold and hard.
I hesitate for a moment, not out of fear but awe. There’s something about the way he looks at me—like I’m the only thing in the world that matters—that makes it hard to move, to breathe.
He lays the gun on a table, strong hands finding my waist, his touch firm but not rough, pulling me the rest of the way to him. His body is warm against mine, the heat of him seeping through the thin fabric I’m wearing.
“Magnolia,” he murmurs, my name falling from his lips like a promise.
I tilt my head up to meet his gaze, my breath hitching as his fingers brush along my jaw, trailing down the column of my neck, leaving a path of fire in their wake. His thumb lingers at my collarbone, his touch gentle but deliberate, as though he’s memorizing me.
“You drive me insane,” he says, his voice barely louder than a whisper. “Do you know that?”
I shake my head, words failing me as his hand moves to my back, sliding down to press me closer. His other hand tangles in my hair, tilting my face up so there’s no space left between us.
When his lips finally meet mine, it’s like the air has been sucked out of the room. The kiss starts slow, teasing, his lips brushing against mine in a way that sends a shiver down my spine. But then it deepens, his mouth capturing mine with a hunger that makes my knees weak.
My hands find his chest, my fingers splaying over the hard planes of muscle as I try to steady myself. His skin is warm beneath my touch, and I feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat, matching the frantic pace of my own.
He breaks the kiss, his lips moving to my jaw, then lower, trailing along my neck. I gasp as he finds a spot just beneath my ear, his teeth grazing my skin in a way that makes heat pool in my stomach.
“Sin,” I whisper, my voice barely more than a breath.
“Say it again,” he murmurs against my skin, his hands sliding down to my hips, pulling me flush against him.
“Sin,” I repeat, his name rolling off my tongue like a prayer.
He lifts me effortlessly, carrying me to the bed, his lips never leaving mine. The moonlight casts everything in a dreamlike glow, but the way he looks at me—like I’m the only thing he’s ever wanted—feels achingly real.
As he lays me down, his weight pressing into me, his hands roaming over my body with a reverence that steals my breath, I know there’s no going back. Whatever this is—whatever we’rebecoming—it’s as inevitable as the waves crashing against the cliffside.
The next morning, the soft glow of dawn filters through the curtains, waking me before my alarm. I stretch lazily, expecting to roll over and find Sin still asleep, but his side of the bed is empty. Before I can wonder where he is, the door creaks open, and he steps in, dressed and wide awake, a mischievous smile lighting up his face.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to my forehead.
I blink at him, confused but amused. “What time is it? And why are you so… awake?”
He chuckles, pulling the covers back gently. “I’ve got a surprise for you. Come on, get dressed.”
“A surprise? This early?” I groan but sit up, curiosity outweighing my reluctance. I always do love Sin’s morning surprises. “What kind of surprise?”
His grin widens. “You’ll see. But you’ll need something comfortable—and a jacket. It’s a little chilly out.”
Ten minutes later, I’m bundled up and following him outside, the cool morning air brushing my cheeks. The faint orange of sunrise spreads over the horizon, and everything feels quiet, almost sacred. As we walk into the village, along the harbor, I spot a helicopter on the pavement, its blades still and gleaming in the first light of day.
I stop in my tracks, my eyes widening. “Wait… is that?—?”
“Your surprise,” he says, turning to me with a proud smile. “I thought we’d see Portofino from a new angle today.”
My heart leaps as I take it in, the sleek black helicopter and the breathtaking promise of the view from above. “Are you serious?” I whisper, already knowing the answer.