Page 53 of Craving Sin

“You can’t promise that.”

“Yes.” I hold his gaze with my own. “I can.”

My own dick is hard behind the sleep pants I’m wearing, but I don’t set myself free. This moment is just about Abbott.

Leaning down, I lash my tongue against the tip of his cock. The taste of his salty skin, of the drop of precum there, is fucking delicious. It—no—he immediately goes to my head, and I do it again, before wrapping my lips around him. It doesn’t matter that I’ve never done this before, that I never thought I would. I hunger for it, and I’m going to be the best damn cocksucker I can be because if anyone deserves it, it’s him.

“Jesus,” he rasps out, voice deeper and huskier than it usually is.

I can’t take him as deep as he does me. I’m still adjusting to the feel of my lips around his cock, at the heavy weight of his shaft against my tongue, at the musky, heady, fucking incredible scent of being between his legs. It’s like a drug I didn’t know I yearned for until I had it, and now that I have, I know I’ll be addicted to the memory of it forever.

I push him backward so Abbott is lying on his back. He bends his knees, placing his feet flat on the mattress.

I stroke him while dipping lower to taste his nut sac. I love the feel of his mouth on mine and want to see if his body reacts the same way.

“Oh fuck yes,” he says, making me smile while I suck on his balls for a moment, before going back to his cock.

“I never knew how much I would love this,” I say, sliding my tongue up the length of him. “Just you,” I say. “Only you will have my mouth this way. Tell me you know it.”

“I know it,” he says breathlessly.

“Again.”

“Fuck, I know it, Rian. I believe you.”

How he can believe a man like me, I’ll never know, but I’m thankful that he can. I swallow his dick as far as I can again, bob on it, try to take him deeper when I can, as I learn how to pleasure him this way.

Every sound he makes, each time his hand tightens in my hair, my dick gets harder.

“You’re so beautiful,” he tells me. “I can’t believe I can have you this way. That you want me.”

“I’ll always want you.” The promise is easy to make. It’s the kind of man I am. I don’t connect easily with people, but when I do, for whatever reason, that’s it for me.

I’m not saying I love him, not saying that what we share is the same as what I had before, but it’s a part of me, another pleasure I don’t deserve, but will treasure forever. And when he’s gone, when I kill him, I’ll ache with the pain of that for the rest of my life.

This time, when I take him back into my mouth, I go slower, looking at him. Abbott’s resting on his elbows, with an unreadable expression on his face. It’s more than pleasure, and damned if it doesn’t hurt to see.

I don’t let myself turn away from him though, as the picture begins to form, and I see that he’s watching the man who he wants to pleasure him less than twenty-four hours before I’m supposed to take his life.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

He puts a hand on my face, stopping me. I pull off him instantly, not willing to touch him if that’s what he wants, if he’s suddenly realized it’s too much.

“I don’t want to come this way,” he finally says. “I want to come with you inside of me. Fuck me, Rian. Fuck me until we both forget.”

I tremble at the conviction in his words, the need in them which matches a need of my own.

I pull off him and stand, my erection tenting the sleep pants. I pull those and my underwear off, not taking my eyes off him. “I don’t have a condom,” I say. “I’m negative for everything. I don’t do this often, and when I do, I’m always safe. I’m tested regularly, and I haven’t been with anyone without a condom since my wife.”

Should it feel stranger than it does to talk about Moira here? I’ve never talked about her with anyone else I’ve been with. Hell, I struggle to talk about her with my family…with my son, but strangely, it’s different with Abbott—like everything else, all of these things I’m not supposed to do or want to do, I do them or want them with him.

What is this connection between us? How the fuck can I lose it?

“If I’m going to die tomorrow, does it really matter even if you weren’t?” Abbott asks, his words like a shot to the heart, lodging there and then blowing it apart. “Conan brought condoms…and lube. They were in the bag, and I hid them in the nightstand on my side.”

Goddamn Conan. He knew it. From how I’ve acted from the start, he knew I would end up here.

“But for the record, I’m negative too.”