Page 55 of Craving Sin

“Yes. There. Play with that too.”

“Yes. Fucking anything,” I tell him. “You have no idea what you do to me, pretty thing. You made me want again, and I keep waiting to hate myself for it, but I don’t.” I always thought I would…that I should. Moira never would have wanted that. She made me promise the complete opposite, but I couldn’t find it in myself to do it until now…until him.

“I keep waiting to hate myself for wanting you, but I can’t do it either, Rian. Fuck, give me more.”

We’re in the same boat, he and I, having a part of ourselves that says we shouldn’t want the other, even though the reasons are different…but somehow in all of this, we still do, and Christ, I don’t think that will ever change.

I work a third finger into him, fucking and stretching, and now and again, pulling all of them but one out to play with his prostate.

Abbott’s cock is rock hard—mine is too, a heavy, constant ache between my legs, begging and pleading to let loose inside of him.

“I need you,” I say, then grit my teeth, hardly able to hold it together.

“I’m yours. For tonight, I’m all yours.”

For tonight.

It’s our last night.

His last night.

I pull my fingers free of his body, can’t take my eyes off his open hole, which looks perfect for my cock.

I flip him over to his back, and Abbott looks up at me with a loopy smile. “Tell me again.”

“I need you,” I admit. I need you, I need you, I need you.

It takes a whole lifetime to get my cock slicked. Abbott’s legs are spread wide, and he pulls them back so I can fit between them.

I feel like I’m going to come out of my skin, but not in the way I would think. It’s as though I’m shedding a part of my past now, that part of me that was so lost and fucking sad, so goddamned alone, even if I know that it’s temporary, even if the protective layer—this one thicker—will grow in its place.

Abbott reaches between us, taking my cock and guiding it to his hole. Neither of us takes our eyes off each other as I push forward, the head sliding into the snug, fiery warmth of his body. “Oh fuck,” falls out of my mouth as, inch by inch, Abbott takes me.

“Jesus, you’re big.”

“Too much?” I ask.

“No. Perfect. Just go slow.”

I do as he says, even though it feels like it could kill me. Slow is good, really. Slow means it takes longer. Slow means this night can feel like it lasts.

“I love this feeling. It’s never been like this, though…I’ve never been so full. Rian, it’s like I can feel you everywhere.”

I feel him everywhere too, like he’s touching parts of me I didn’t know existed, some that have been dormant for far too long. He’s waking each and every nerve ending up, making them tingle and burn in a way that makes me crave more.

When I’m all the way in, groin against his ass, we both still, stare into each other’s eyes, and then he says, “Fuck me hard, remember?”

A surge of possession rises within me, filling me until my whole body overflows with it.

I pull back and thrust in again, over and over, harder with each pump of my hips. I assume my arm must be hurting, that this isn’t great for me, but I can’t feel anything other than pleasure right now, than Abbott, which is the best fucking feeling in the world.

But then he’s placing a hand on my chest, signaling for me to slow down. “What? Did you change your mind?” Did I do something wrong?

I go to pull out, but Abbott tells me, “No. But I don’t want to hurt you.” Then pulls off me, turning so he’s on his hands and knees again.

I don’t want to hurt you.

How can he not want to hurt me after what I’m going to do to him?