A Necessary Sin (The Sin Trilogy, #1)(19)

I move my hands up his arms, over his broad, muscular shoulders. His lips meet mine and I open my mouth, inviting his tongue inside. They’re soft and wet gliding together. He tastes likes whisky. And I love it.

His hand moves to the hem of my dress and creeps up my thighs. That’s more than the one bite I promised, so I grab his wrist. “You’re being a very bad boy.”

“The only thing that’s bad is how much I want to touch you.”

I push his hand away. “I know you do—and you will—but not until you come to understand full circle what it is I want and need.”

“Bonny Bleu, I can make you feel so f*cking good if you’ll just let me.” His hand is back to working its way up my dress. “Isn’t that what all of this is about? Pleasuring you?”

I let his fingers skim my silky panties before forcing his hand away. “It most definitely is but if you understood anything about what I need, you’d be able to predict that I don’t want it while standing outside my front door for all of my neighbors to see.”

He growls in frustration. “Then let me come in.”

“Says the big bad wolf.”

He steps back and clasps his hands over the top of his head. “Your game confuses me. You act as though you want to be properly f*cked but you have all these stipulations to go along with the manner in which it’s done.” He moves his hands down his face. “It’s f*cking exhausting,” he growls.

He’s becoming annoyed. I’m losing him. I think he’s growing tired of the waiting game so I have to reel him in again. “Being properly f*cked is worth the wait because when it’s good, it’s very good.”

I need to step up my plan, force his hand.

Sin doesn’t take women to his home—ever. It would be a huge concession for him to do so. He needs a really good reason to want to take me there. “It sounds silly but the truth is that I sort of get creeped out thinking about having sex in Aunt Edy’s flat since it’s where she passed away.”

“No storage rooms. No offices. No flats where dead people could be walking around. Should I be aware of any other places you can’t have sex?” He’s laughing at me again. Good. I prefer that over annoyance.

“If I asked you to take me to your bed after our next date and make love to me, would you?”

“I don’t take women to my house. And I don’t make love.”

“Would you if it pleased me?” I want to plant the idea that taking me into his bed will conquer half the battle.

He doesn’t answer immediately but I can tell he’s thinking it over. “I might be able to find a way to make an exception this one time.”

I’m surprised he gave in so easily. “Good. I’m off Thursday and Friday.”

“Fuck, no! That’s five days from now.”

I shrug, pretending I don’t know what the problem is. “And?”

He’s shaking his head. “No way. That’s entirely too long to wait.”

Really? Five days is nothing. “Anticipation is one of the best forms of foreplay.”

I’m certain he doesn’t agree, based on his expression. “Ugh!” he groans. “Mmm … I’m going to kiss the hell out of you right now and you’re not going to tell me I can’t.”

He doesn’t give me the opportunity to refuse. I’m yanked into his arms, my body slamming against his. His mouth devours mine, consuming me from the outside inward.

His hands are on my ass, squeezing my cheeks, almost painfully so. He’s borderline lifting me, the tips of my toes barely grazing the ground. I think he’ll have me lifted with my legs wrapped around him at any minute. But then he releases me. And I’m disappointed. I liked what he was doing.

“You better be worth all this work and waiting.” He nips my bottom lip and gives my ass another painful squeeze before turning to walk to his car.

Anticipation—it builds excitement and suspense. The brain really is a sexual organ, even for men. Sin is going to spend the next five days and nights fantasizing about what it’ll be like when he finally has me beneath him. Waiting is something he’s never had to do so this is another way of setting me apart from the others before me. It proves I’m worth the wait and far more than just f*ckworthy.

This is happening much faster than I anticipated. It’s coming down to the wire and I have to mentally prep myself if I’m going to be ready to do this in a mere five days.

He thinks our only reason for coming together is for sex, but it’s going to be about so much more. I need him to feel a bond. It’s something I’ve never had with a man before so I’m not sure I can pull it off.

As one would expect, making yourself an island prevents you from forming emotional and physical connections. That translates into me never having had an intimate relationship with a man. I’m a twenty-five-year-old virgin and my first sexual encounter is going to be with the son of my mother’s killer.

It’s sick, but all part of my plan to make him fall in love with me.

I’ve convinced him I’m some sort of sexual butterfly but I wonder what he’s going to think when he realizes he is the first man to ever have me. I anticipate it going one of two ways: either he’ll be pissed and storm out because I’m not the experienced woman he’s expecting, or he’ll be so taken by being the one and only that he’ll do everything in his power to keep it that way.