Page 34 of Sting of Sin

“And if I do, you’ll stop?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“And if I ask you to stay?”

“I stay.”

“If I ask you to hold tighter?”

My hand flexed beneath hers. “I hold tighter.”

Her eyes held mine. “Then trust me too.”

That nearly broke me worse than anything else had.

Because she was right.

I had made a sanctuary out of restraint, but even restraint could become another locked door if I never believed her when she said yes.

So I trusted her.

My mouth claimed hers with years of hunger finally let loose. My tongue slid against hers, slow and deep, tasting every corner as her fingers tightened in my hair. She pressed closer between my spread knees, her body warm and solid against my chest. The kiss turned wetter, hungrier, our breaths mixing as she tilted her head to take more of me.

I stood without breaking the contact, hands sliding down to grip her waist and lift her. Her legs wrapped around him on instinct. I laid her on the bed, making quick work of my clothes before my body covered hers. I kissed her, tongues stroking, lips parting only for quick gasps before crashing back together.

Her hands roamed, palms flat against his back, nails dragging lightly as she pulled me closer. I broke the kiss, my mouth moving along her jaw, then down her neck. I licked the pulse point there, sucking gently until she arched and moaned. My teeth grazed her skin, not biting hard, just enough to make her shiver.

"Eli," she breathed, voice already rough. Her hands went to the hem of the t-shirt and I helped her pull her it over her head. Her breasts spilled free, nipples tight. I lowered my head and licked one, circling the stiff peak with his tongue before sucking it into my mouth. Bee gasped, hips lifting. I switched to the other, sucking harder while my hand cupped and squeezed the first.

Her fingers threaded through my hair again, holding me there. I kissed lower, tongue tracing down her stomach, dipping into her navel. Her eyes were dark, lips swollen from kissing.

"Yes," she said before I could ask. "Keep going."

The lamp burned low beside us.

The room narrowed to breath and warm skin and the quiet sound of her saying my name like she was testing what it could mean here.

This was a woman whose body had been made into a thing taken from her. Walked into the dark and handed to monsters. Locked up and medicated and managed for years until it stopped feeling like hers at all.

And what we did in that room did not erase any of it.

Nothing could.

We gave her something new beside it.

A choice she did not have to make quickly.

A touch that stopped when she stopped.

Desire that did not turn cruel when denied.

Every place I touched, I touched like it mattered, because it did. And I watched her learn in real time that being wanted did not have to mean being taken. That a man could want her down to the marrow and still hold the whole of that want in.

Leashed to her yes.

Soft as morning.

I couldn’t hold back on more minute, and I pressed forward, sinking into her inch by inch. She was hot and tight around me. I paused when I was fully seated, forehead pressed to hers, both of us breathing hard.