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Lawless Sinners

Page 119

by Autumn Archer

“Jesus, Sera…”

This time, my name doesn't come out with a warning.

It sounds like damage.

With his cock inside me, I sit there on his lap, my body recovering and my breathing turning shallow.

Candlelight catches the sweat on his brow, the shadow of his jaw and the darkness of his hair.

A strand of my hair sticks to my mouth, and before I can blow it away, Fionn reaches up and moves it away.

His fingers skim my cheek, then my jaw, and for one strange second, he looks at what he’s done to me without making a joke of it.

“Those look good on you,” he says.

Then his hand slips behind my back, and he loosens the knot. The curtain tie slides from my wrists and drops behind me.

Blood rushes back into my arms.

I hiss and shake out my hands, rolling my shoulders, then my wrists, the skin marked where the braid held me.

Fionn catches one of my wrists and turns it over. His thumb passes over the red line. “Was it too tight?”

“No.”

“Don’t lie.”

“It wasn’t too tight, or I would’ve said.”

“Good.”

He thumbs the underside of my wrist, and even though I’m not restrained anymore, I don’t climb off him.

We stay joined together, naked and peaceful in this weird aftermath truce. I slide my fingers into his hair and tug hard, so his head dips back.

His breath leaves him through his clenched teeth, and I rise up onto my knees, lean over and kiss him before he can warn me.

The pressure is firm, wet, and mean, licking into his mouth like I’m taking something from him.

His hand clamps around my hip, the other spreading wide across my back, and the kiss turns rough. He tastes like me, and God, that lights a spark in my chest.

I tug his hair harder until a thick grunt moves through his chest, and I know I have him.

I start to get up, lips clinging, kissing him as his semi-hard dick slips out of me in one slow drag that makes both of us stop breathing for a racing heartbeat.

When I try to climb off him, his hands jump to my waist. “Leaving first doesn’t make you less caught.”

I look down at him, hair draping his brow and eyes dark.

“Temporarily caught.” I offer him a sugary-sweet smile. “That’s all.”

He holds onto me, just to prove he can, then releases me.

I sit on the rug with my knees drawn in, reaching for my jeans. Fionn gets to his feet and gathers my clothes one piece at a time and hands them to me without comment.

“Very gentlemanly,” I say.

“Must be my Harrington hospitality."