Page 52 of Craving Sin

Maybe I can let him go. Tell Conan it’s done, and Abbott can go off and live his life, but I know that won’t work. Not with who his father is. It’s not as if he can fade away and live his life without anyone ever figuring out who he is. Plus, what if I’m wrong about him? What if all of this is nothing more than a game he’s playing, and I put my family at risk? Even if he’s serious now, it doesn’t mean that with time away, he wouldn’t come to his senses.

He might hurt me, but he wouldn’t hurt Cillian.

“It’ll be quick,” I say. “And I won’t forget you. It might not matter, but you reminded me what it’s like to feel…to want. I never thought I would after Moira, but I do…and I don’t hate myself for it. Not for that. Just for coming into your life only to ruin it.”

Abbott doesn’t reply with words—not right away. Instead, he pushes higher up my body, taking my mouth with his own. I let him lead the kiss, let him take what he wants from me. There’s nothing I wouldn’t give—not this way.

He pushes his tongue past my lips, rutting against me, making hungry sounds that I devour with a kiss of my own.

And then he pulls away. I reach for him, clutch him, need coursing through me, wanting his skin against mine, not ready to lose this yet—this thing I thought I would hate myself for feeling, but I don’t.

“Dance with me,” he says, the soft sound of the adagietto from Mahler’s Symphony No. 5 playing in the background.

Dance with him? That feels as though it would be the most intimate thing we’ve done. We’ve talked…I’ve shared with him, and Abbott with me. We’ve made each other come, but dancing to such a romantic piece of music, stitched together with a melancholic tone, feels like showing him even more of myself.

“But I’m not wearing my sling,” I try to joke. He was upset I wasn’t wearing it earlier, afraid I could hurt myself.

“You’re making excuses. Dance with me,” he says again, and there’s not a chance in hell I’m turning him down. I think I might want it as much as Abbott does.

I stand, then take his hand, pulling him with me across the room. We wrap each other up in our arms—swaying, clutching, breathing the same air.

My hands run up and down his back. It doesn’t matter that it hurts, that the area around my injury is throbbing. All that matters is him—us.

“I don’t understand,” Abbott says, breath against my throat.

I know what he’s saying again—that he doesn’t understand what this is between us, why and how it could be happening, and I don’t either.

“Shh,” I say, kissing his temple, down his cheek, and grabbing his ass to pull him closer. I haven’t been inside of him yet, but I need it—my dick hard and aching between us.

“I want you,” Abbott says. “I want to feel you all night. I want nothing but pleasure, Rian. You owe me that.”

I do, and I’ll gladly give it to him.

“Let’s go to bed.”

We walk toward the bedroom, Abbott pulling off clothes as we go. I lick at his freckles, nibble them, can’t stop touching him as we go. The second we’re in the room, I pull him to me, hands on his tight ass again, Abbott looking at me with naked want that he doesn’t even try to hide.

“Christ, the things I want to do to you, pretty thing,” I tell him, ghosting my lips along his cheek.

“Pretty thing?” he asks.

“You are. I noticed it from the start—couldn’t fucking stop looking at you because of it.”

“Do them,” he rasps out. “Do them all. But first, let’s get your arm—”

“Fuck that. I want free rein of your body tonight, and I’m damn sure not letting that fucking sling get in the way.”

He gives me a half-smirk when what I expected was a fight. “Okay. I’m not even going to argue about it tonight.”

I chuckle, then kiss him again, easing him backward, our mouths never parting. When his legs hit the bed, Abbott collapses onto it, completely naked, cock hard and tall between his muscular thighs.

“Fuck,” I say, and without giving myself time to overthink it—just wanting to taste him, please him, show him how much I crave him—I kneel on the floor.

“Rian?” It’s impossible to miss the question in his voice.

While I have jerked him off, that’s as far as I’ve gone, but looking at him, at how hard he is for me, how beautiful this man is—both inside and out—his willingness to give me so much fucking more than I deserve, all I want to do is give some of that back to him. To make this the best fucking night of his life, so he won’t have any doubts about how much I crave him.

“I want to have this with you,” I say, reaching out and stroking his hot length. “I want to give this to you…something no one else has had from me, something no one else will.”