Page 51 of Filthy Sinner


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“It did sound kinda proud, actually,” I agreed, which had her huffing again.

“Yeah, well, when you throw stuff at me as if it’s a gauntlet, then I guess we can confirm I’m not afraid to pick it up and toss it back at you.”

I arched a brow at her. “You have been very docile.”

“Trust me, the red hair isn’t false advertising. I’ve just been—”

“You’ve been a good girl. I like knowing that you might be naughty too.”

Her cheeks flushed as she stared at me. “I’ve never been naughty in my life. Until you.”

I traced my finger over her jawline. “Sometimes, it just takes the right person to free a part of your nature—”

“I want to consummate the marriage.” Then, like I might have misunderstood, she stated, “With you.”

Triumph might have roared through me, but I tamped it down.

I wasn’t a fucking animal, and she was exhausted.

Horny or not.

I tipped my head to the side. “Not tonight. Maybe not tomorrow.”

Her frown made an appearance. “What?!”

When she started pouting, that was when I knew I had to kiss her.

I pressed my mouth to hers but darted back to nip her bottom lip with a hard enough bite she was squirming against me.

Cupping her throat, I used my hold on her to angle her head back and she fucking let me. It had me growling under my breath. In response, she whimpered and gave me my in.

I’d never been someone’s first time, had never wanted to be, and as I kissed her now, I got the feeling I’d be more than just her first time having sex because even where kissing was concerned, she was inexperienced.

Her hesitancy shone through, as did her uncertainty.

She was willing to follow my lead, eager and hungry but definitely not learned about these things.

I knew she’d had a boyfriend, but if he’d gotten past first base, I’d be surprised.

Oddly pleased by her inexperience, I coached her while I teased her. I thrust my tongue against hers, encouraging her to do the same in return. I tasted and savored and moaned when she mirrored my actions.

For the first time, I understood the advantage of going with someone who was a blank slate—I could teach her to be my every fucking wild dream. And she was already halfway there thanks to that goddamn hair and a body that’d make Marilyn Monroe envious.

When her hands came up to drag over my scalp, her nails scratching the sensitive flesh, I growled again, loving the mewl that whispered from her throat, proof that she was helpless and lost to the need that stirred between us.

When I pulled back with a final nip to her lip, I rumbled, “That’s why it won’t be tonight or tomorrow and maybe not the night after that either. Because good things come to those who wait.”

And maybe, just maybe, she was exactly the ‘good’ I’d been waiting for. A good I didn’t deserve but who seemed to want me anyway.

Even if this was just about her rebelling, about her fulfilling her teenage fantasies, I’d take it.

Hell, I’d take it all the way to the fucking bank.

Her hands reached for mine, and her nails dug into my palms. Not to steer, but to plead. “I’m scared.”

Well, that helped with my boner.

“Of what?” I demanded.

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