The Sinner - Molly O'Keefe Page 0,52

was nearly cool.

He slept on his back, the sheets pooled around his waist. The work he’d been doing and the way he hadn’t been eating had changed his body. He was hard now. There were divots and ridges where there hadn’t been. I wanted to feed him and fuck him.

Like I said compartmentalizing.

But, this wasn’t so much about fucking, as it was comfort. Giving him what he needed, the way he’d given it to me weeks ago.

Maybe it was about fucking, I couldn’t be trusted.

I wrapped my robe tighter around my body, giving the belt a good pull like it was some chastity belt. Yes, I was naked underneath. Yes, I was wet.

My bare feet made no sound over the wooden floor and the bed, when I sat on the edge barely squeaked but he woke up in a heartbeat.

“Savannah.” He blinked and tried to sit up. “Is everything okay?”

“Fine,” I said. I put my hand against his chest, the warmth of him melting me. His eyes met mine and he was a little slow to catch on but I saw him get what was happening.

“Do you want me to leave,” I asked.

“You should.”

I smiled. “Do you want me to?”

He shook his head.

Good man, I thought.

I straddled him, the robe splitting up to reveal that I was naked and he groaned as I settled down against his cock. I even, because this really might be the last time I touched him (another thing I was storing away like a rotten nut for winter) shifted and pulled the sheet out from between us and settled back down again, so he could feel the damp and heat of me through the thin fabric of his boxers.

“Savannah,” he groaned and pushed himself up against me, and I felt the pressure of him against my clit. An electric pleasure sizzled over my skin.

Not about you. It’s about him.

I didn’t kiss him. Or hug him. I put my hands against the flat of his chest and rocked against him. He grabbed my hips, his fingertips soft at first but then because he must have felt like I did – desperate and running out of time – he got rougher. His fingertips pressed into my hips, came around to grab my ass. Pulling and pushing me against him and I got a taste of what it might be like if we ever fully gave into this thing between us.

Animals. We would be animals.

And the thought turned me on like kerosene.

I bent over him, kissing his neck. His chest. Down his belly, scooting off of him as I went. He groaned, reaching for me.

“Am I dreaming?” He asked.

We both were, but that was something to worry about later.

In answer I bit his stomach, he groaned and laughed, his hand cupping my head. “Not a dream,” I whispered against his sleep-warm skin. I eased his boxers down over his erection.

“You shouldn’t,” he said, putting his hand out to stop me.

“I know,” I said. And I did it anyway.

I slipped him into my mouth and he curled up, his fingers in my hair, cupping my jaw. He was hard against my tongue and my lips stretched to hold him. Big, God, he was big and I could imagine how he would feel between my legs. How it might hurt at first, no matter how ready I was. How he would split me open in the best possible way.

Stop.

This is about him.

I wrapped my fingers around him.

“Fuck,” he breathed, “Savannah…you are so beautiful.”

I felt beautiful as he pushed up into my mouth, fucking me as I sucked him. Like I was elemental or something. Because this – how we made each other feel – was elemental.

And painful.

“Yes,” he breathed, pulling my hair into his fist, holding me like that so he could watch and I gave him a show. Tongue and hands. Lots of spit. “Oh my God, look at you. Look-“

Chatty guy. I did what he had done to me and put my hand up over his lips and he sucked my fingers into his mouth. Sucking me the way I sucked him.

I could feel when he was about to come. The way he got harder in my mouth and pulsed against my fingers. He tried to tug me away by my hair but I wasn’t that girl. His hips lifted off the sheets his cock pushing down into my throat so hard I saw stars but then he eased up as he came and came.

I swallowed and sucked,