Home > What Sinners Love(8)

What Sinners Love(8)
Author: Eva Ashwood

It hurts, but I don’t give a fuck.

I need this.

Before he slipped into the bathroom, I scrubbed body wash over myself, hating the sting as the soap cleansed my cuts. But this pain feels good. It feels purifying in a way the soap didn’t, as if Gray’s touch can burn away the reminders of what Reagan did to me.

He doesn’t want to hurt me. I can still feel him trying to hold back, to slow the hungry movements of his mouth, to keep his fingers from digging into my skin. But I need more. I need him to know he won’t break me, no matter what he does.

As his hands skate over the slick curves of my hips, I reach between us and find the thick length of his cock, already hard and hot. When I wrap my fingers around him, he growls into my mouth. There’s a warning in the sound, and I know exactly what he’s trying to tell me.

I’m straining his self-control.

I’m testing his restraint.

Good.

A feral sort of smile curves my lips, and I know he can feel it in our kiss. Squeezing his shaft a little tighter, I slide my fist up and down, stroking his entire length.

His hips jerk forward, his fingers tightening on my hips until they dig into my skin hard enough to bruise. I let out a muffled grunt, and again, he tries to loosen his grip. But I move closer to him, kissing him desperately as I slide my hand up and run my thumb over the rounded head of his cock. I brush the pad of my thumb over the slit at the tip, feeling the slick wetness that has nothing to do with the water pouring over us.

“Sparrow…”

Gray rasps the word. The name he gave me. The warning is even more evident in his voice, and I know that he’s about to break.

“I need you, Gray,” I murmur against his lips, realizing he needs to hear it from me before he’ll let himself go. “I don’t care if it hurts. I need you to fuck me.”

“No.” He grunts, contradicting his own word as his hips thrust into my touch. I stroke his cock harder, my pussy clenching and my clit throbbing as I feel him pulse against my skin. “I won’t risk hurting you, Sparrow. You’ve already been through too damn much since last night.”

“Yeah, I have. But I still need you.”

My voice cracks as I speak, and I know he hears it. I might be tough, but I’m not invincible. I’m falling apart at the seams a little here. But what Gray doesn’t realize is that his presence, his touch—no matter how rough—isn’t going to tear me apart. It’s going to piece me back together.

His body goes stiff, tension rippling through his muscles. Finally, he drags his lips away from mine. His calloused hands slide up to my shoulders, pushing me away gently. When our gazes meet, I see the wildness in his blue-green eyes—fear and need and anger that he’s afraid to unleash on me.

His brown hair is wet, slicked to his head by the spray of the shower, and water droplets cling to his skin. My own skin has been washed clean of blood, and the water runs clear as it disappears down the drain. But I can see the marks on my arms, marring the pale skin.

I know what he sees when he looks at me. And I know he feels responsible for every single bruise and cut.

He’s still trying to protect me, to do what he couldn’t when Alan had me captive. He’s trying to take care of me.

But I need him to realize that the best way to do that is to treat me like he always has.

Like a fighter.

Breathing heavily, I unwrap my fingers from around his cock. But before he can step away from me, I bring both of my hands up to my breasts, palming the heavy, aching flesh before rolling my nipples between my fingers.

Gray goes still, his pupils dilating as he watches the movement. The rush of endorphins and arousal that floods me as I take in the expression on his face makes the biting pain of my injuries fade into a dull ache.

“This is what I need right now, Gray,” I murmur, keeping my gaze locked on his as I slide my hands lower, over the flat plane of my stomach and down between my legs. “I need to feel good. I need a reminder that not everything is fucking awful.”

He draws in a ragged breath as he watches me part my pussy lips with one hand, spreading myself wide open for him. When the fingers of my other hand find my clit and tease the sensitive little button, his nostrils flare.

“I’ll make myself feel good if I have to,” I continue, my voice raw and husky with need. “But I want it to be you. Fuck me like you did that night at The Silent Hour. Like we’re the antidote to each other’s pain. Please.”

The last word ends on a gasp as I thrust two fingers inside myself, imagining the slide of Gray’s cock against my inner walls.

He makes a noise that barely even sounds human, and a second later, his hand wraps around my wrist, yanking my hand away from my pussy. He brings it to his lips, drawing the two fingers that were just inside me deep into his mouth, licking them clean as he holds my wrist in an iron grip.

“You are the antidote to my pain, Sparrow,” he murmurs when he withdraws them. His pupils have expanded so wide that only small rings of blue-green still surround them, and his jaw clenches as he steps toward me, closing the small space between us. “You’re everything I’ll ever need. I can’t fucking lose you.”

“You haven’t,” I tell him. And then, even though it’s a promise I know I can’t keep, I add, “You won’t.”

Something in those words does what all my teasing seduction earlier couldn’t. It snaps the last of his restraint.

He jerks on my wrist, pulling me flush up against him as his lips crash against mine.

And this—this is the kiss I’ve needed since the beginning. It’s fierce and brutal, his lips forceful and demanding as they move against mine. He takes whatever he wants, his tongue delving into my mouth with no hesitation, sliding over my lips, my teeth, my tongue. I can feel the pressure of his cock against my stomach as his hands come up to grasp my head on either side, as if he’s holding me in place for his ravenous lips.

When he wrenches his mouth away from mine, it’s not to end this. It’s not to pull away. It’s just to take more of what he wants—what we both need.

His hands drop to my hips, and he spins me around before pressing a palm between my shoulder blades. I bend forward a little, my hands flattening on the slick tiles of the shower.

“Fuck.” Gray’s fingers sink deeply into the flesh of my hips, shaking slightly as he curses. “I can’t… Jesus, Sophie, I can’t—”

“I don’t need you to be gentle,” I gasp. “Fuck me. Just, please, fuck me.”

I don’t care if it’s not gentle.

I don’t give a fuck if it hurts.

Hell, I don’t even care if it kills me.

I need him more in this moment than I need food or water or oxygen.

Gray’s grip tightens even more, and I feel the stretch of his cock breaching my entrance a split second before he slams inside me.

It’s exactly what I asked for. Exactly what I needed.

Nothing about it is gentle or sweet. But I can feel every one of Gray’s emotions in the way he draws back and drives into me, his hips slapping against my ass as he fucks me hard and deep. I can feel my own need reflected back at me in his barely controlled thrusts.

My fingernails scrape against the slick tiles as I work to keep from collapsing forward, and when Gray slides the fingers of one hand around to find my clit, my knees almost give out.

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