Page 21 of Vow of Sin
There was someone outside of the kitchen. I fucking knew it.
“You can lie to almost anyone, Scarlett. You can be the cold hearted ice queen that you’ve molded yourself into over the years, but I know better.” he chuckles, his rough hand sliding up the soft skin of my thigh and under my slip, his fingertips brushing against the band of my panties.
God that feels so, so good.
“But you can’t lie to me. And even if you try to, I know the truth. This fucking body says it all.” he groans, his fingertips sliding to the front of my panties, pressing into my clit as I tilt my head back and sigh.
“And what does it say?” I ask. “My body?”
He freezes then, the room quiet except for my heavy breathing and his deep sigh. It feels as if the world has stopped spinning, that life itself has frozen completely. All there is..is here and now. Is me and him.
“That it’s mine.” he snarls before he pulls me down over his lap, his hands on my face as his lips begin to devour my own.
ChapterTwelve
Scarlett
I get lost in this kiss that Nico is giving me.
He’s eating my mouth like it’s his last meal and all I can do is sit here and take it. Oh fuck, who am I kidding? I’m not sitting and taking it. I’m grinding and writhing on his lap, my nails digging into his clothed biceps as I moan into his mouth and relish in the feel of his lips on mine. His hands move from my face to my ass, gripping it tightly as my slip raises, his warm, rough fingers pressing into the skin of my butt.
“You taste so fucking good.” He growls, his tone sounding frustrated.
I want to pull back and ask him what’s wrong, why he sounds angry with me, but he beats me to the punch.
He moves one of his hands to my hair and yanks it back roughly, angling my face just an inch away from his as he pulls his mouth away from mine, his eyes angry and passionate as he glares at me.
“You shouldn’t taste good to me, Scarlett. I shouldn’t know how you taste. Do you know why I shouldn’t know that, kitten?” he says, his eyes narrowed as he stares me down, heavy breaths leaving my lips as I shake my head slightly, his grip not giving me any room to move.
“Because you married my best friend, my business partner. Dead or alive, I should not be touching you like this, shouldn’t even be looking into your direction, but here I am. Fucking craving you even though you piss me off to no end.” he says, his face moving in on me as I bite my lip and watch his nose press against my chin.
I sigh when I feel the contact, his nose moving from my face down my throat, breathing me in as I stay immobile in his grasp, my pussy practically weeping for him. He allows his tongue to snake out and lick from my collarbone to the hollow of my throat, my spine tingling as he does it. Just when I think he might slide back up and kiss me again, he surprises me. He bites down on the tender flesh of my throat, my gasp of surprise leaving my lips and echoing out into the room.
“You shouldn’t smell good. You shouldn’t look good.” he groans, licking the spot that he just bit as I writhe in his lap, desperate for friction.
“You shouldn’t be anything to me, Scarlett, yet here you are, grinding against my cock because as much as you hate me, you want it too.” he says, the hand that’s in my hair now pulling it tighter, the pain hitting my scalp, but I don’t yelp. I don’t yelp because I like it.
“You fucking want it too and isn’t that just terrible?” he seethes, staring into my eyes now as I blink at him, my tongue running across my lips to wet them.
His eyes track the movement, darkening with so much lust that I may just evaporate into thin air because of it’s intensity.
“Answer me.” he yanks my face towards him as our foreheads press together.
“Yes.” I whimper, sounding small, sounding weak.
“Yes what?” he asks, his gaze so intense, so close. How did we get here? How is this happening?
“Yes, I…I want it.” I gasp, my words trembled and rushed, the confusion inside of me now mixing with my desire. “And I have no idea why.” I whine, angry that I’m being honest with him, that I’m giving in. I really am a weak woman.
He stares at me long and hard then, our heavy pants mixing together as our skin grows hot from where it touches. I have no doubt that his fingertips will leave marks on my ass by morning, but at this rate, who cares? I want him so much that it hurts more than his embedded fingertips, than his hand pulling my hair.
“Me either, kitten. God is going to damn us both.” he curses before landing another hot, all consuming kiss to my lips.
He flips me over then, my back landing on the bed as my legs wrap around his waist, the white slip now riding up to my hips, exposing my lace underwear. He doesn’t stop as he moves me and settles in between my legs, he just continues to kiss me for all that I’m worth as I lay there with my hands tangled in his hair. He’s still fully clothed and when I finally take a deep breath in between his kisses, I finally inhale his scent. He smells like woods and whiskey, like dark, expensive notes that somehow only smell good on him. I blame that as the reason for my sudden intoxication. It’s his scent. He’s a walking drug and I am nothing but a junkie.
He pulls away then, kneeling above me as his chocolate brown eyes land on my exposed hips. A growl vibrates his chest and his deep onyx hair falls around his face. He’s so fucking beautiful it hurts and I hate that I’m seeing him this way, that he has an effect on me like this. He’s right, God is going to damn the both of us.
He moves his hands away from me, pulling at his black tie before removing it from around his neck. For a moment, I swear he’s going to throw it to the floor and start undressing, but he shocks me with what he does next. Instead of disrobing, he leans forward and grabs my hands. He pins them above my head on the large bed and knots the tie around them, tying it tight as my arms are now raised above me. My eyes widen and he cocks his head at me, a darkness in his eyes that I’ve never seen before. It’s like this has made him hotter, more intense than he already is. He must like the sight because I feel his hardening dick press against my lace covered center, my back arching involuntarily. He’s like a puppet master.