Sin & Suffer (Pure Corruption MC #2)(48)

He took everything and I let him.

Demanding.

Feral.

Consuming.

Arthur was everywhere at once.

In my mind.

My heart.

My soul.

His taste.

His scent.

His heat.

He planted a hand on my sternum, forcing me backward until my spine met marble. My rib cage strained against flushed and sweat-misted skin. My breathing was wild and loud.

“Fuck, Cleo. You’re so goddamn beautiful.” His fingertips trailed my exposed skin. My tattoos glowed beneath the Edison bulbs and my scars shone with disfigurement. I was both inked and ugly but in Arthur’s eyes, I was exquisite.

“I’ll never tire of looking at you.” Something hungry and dangerous flashed over his face; his fingers dug into my multihued skin. “You’re my miracle.”

I tried to rise—to grab at his T-shirt and jerk off his boxer briefs. But he shoved me back roughly, pinning me in place. I didn’t care that he was brusque. I didn’t care that my back twinged with pain.

I was in pleasure heaven.

I need him.

He commanded, “Don’t move. I need to look at you. I need—”

I moaned as his hand fell down his front, cupping his hard length and squeezing. “Goddammit, I want you.”

“Take me, then,” I whimpered.

Arthur yanked my hips forward. We groaned in perfect unison as his hardness molded with my damp panties. I couldn’t stay still as he grinded unashamedly. I was stuck between cold marble and the hard heat of him.

My breath caught as his hands moved from my thighs to scrape against my naked rib cage, slinking upward. His thumb grazed the underside of my breasts.

I moaned again. “Please, Art. Stop teasing me. Take me.”

“God, I love it when you beg.” He thrust against my panties. “Tell me what you want.” His voice was deep and gruff, threaded with lust and need.

Heat was everywhere. My head fell back as he cupped my breast, tweaking my nipple with dexterous fingers.

“I want you to fill me. I want you to bite me. I want you to do anything you want to me.”

My stomach melted; my core grew wet. I’d never wanted someone this much before. Never found utopia in a simple touch echoing with unspoken adoration and power.

I tugged his T-shirt. I needed skin on skin.

Arthur got the message. Grabbing the material, he ripped it over his head. His chest was broad and tanned. His muscles created grooves and shadows, leading toward a perfect trail of hair disappearing into his boxer briefs.

My mouth watered.

I reached out and traced the shape of his erection, barely contained by the black material.

He shuddered; green fire blazed in his eyes. “God, you drive me insane.”

I had no reply. I was past speaking.

Arthur fumbled with my panties. His fingers brushed against my damp core.

I shot off the counter at the barest pressure. The spindles of an orgasm twisted and teased.

Arthur wrenched my panties down, tugging angrily as they caught around my ankles. In his rush, he ripped the delicate lace. “Oops.” His face transformed with a grin even as lines feathered around his eyes from his never-ending headache.

I beamed, falling deeper into love with this complicated man. “You’re rich. You can buy me another pair.”

“If it were up to me, you’d never wear underwear again. I could slink my fingers inside you whenever I damn well pleased.”

I suffered a full-body convulsion. “Consider it done.”

With a harsh growl, he tossed the tattered lace away. It was a beast of a sound, not from a man, but a lusty male who was past the point of reason.

His eyes dropped, feasting on my exposed, glistening sex.

Soaring upright, I grabbed his biceps, digging my fingernails into his flesh. “Please … Arthur.” His flesh was on fire. “Come here.” My skin missed his skin. My lips wanted his lips.

He pounced on me, mouth crushing mine. I tasted urgency on his tongue, the metallic tint of desperation. He needed this as much as I did. Something drove us. Something primitive.

It was my turn to fumble with his boxer briefs. Spearing my fingers through the waistband, I pulled them with no finesse. The tip of him escaped, then his girth, until finally his tight and drawn up balls were revealed.

Without moving away, he shoved the tight material farther down his legs and kicked them away.

Naked, I spread my legs wider, beyond ready for him to take me.

But Arthur had other ideas.

Bending over me, he scooped me from the unforgiving marble and carried me from the kitchen. My legs wrapped around him, pressing my core directly against his erection.

We both gasped. Arthur paused in his stumble to kiss me—savage and swift. Then we were moving again, swaying with sexual need and lurching with lust.

I rode him. I didn’t care. I rubbed against him like a cat in heat. I had to find some relief from the bonfire in my blood. The flames that’d marked me now lived inside, whipping around until I boiled with desire.

“Arthur, I have to have you inside me.” Sinking my teeth into his shoulder, he groaned as I bit harder than I ever had before.

We’d passed soft caresses and tender touches. I wanted to be bruised and to bruise. I wanted to mark him while seeking beatific pleasure.

“God, Cleo. You’ve poisoned me. Your lips are f*cking venom. I’ll never get enough of you.” His voice was thick as he stumbled toward the couch. The sliding doors were wide open, the dark evening hiding onlookers and witnesses.