Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
T he sun has fallen, leaving Sin’s office in a warm stream of amber lamplight.
A quiet sound alerts me, I turn to see Sin leaning against a nearby bookcase, watching me. It brings me back to when we met, with him coming in as I was cataloging books. It reminds him too, because as he eases forward, taking an impossibly long yet effortless step toward me, he pushes a stray piece of hair behind my ear.
“I’ve heard you’ve been in here all day.” His voice covers me like a blanket.
He’s not wrong. As soon as Max and I got back to the house, all of my books were on white trolleys in the library, waiting to be shelved.
I went through a rather manic process. Organizing by color, which was insane. It looked so pretty but made it hard to find authors or series. Then, in alphabetical order of books, which again didn’t make much sense .
I’ve just finished.
I try not to visibly melt at Sin’s touch. “Well, you got here at the perfect time. Everything is categorized just like a regular library, so it’s much more effective that way.”
In truth, I was just wanting to reorganize so many times because I wanted to touch the spines and smell the pages.
“Where have you been?” I ask.
“Miss me?”
Yes. “Didn’t even notice you were gone.” I wave my hand in the air carelessly.
His eyes darken. “Don’t lie,” he says playfully, but there’s an undertone of venom sweeping across his lips.
I peer up, gazing at him. “Of course I missed you. I wanted you to come with me this morning.”
His strong arms envelop me, and I sink into his embrace. “I would have if a threat didn’t arise.”
I tilt my head in inquiry. “Threat?”
His gaze ponders up the shelf, and I admire the straight set of his jaw. “I don’t want to talk about it; I want to see everything you’ve done.”
A topic I’ll bring up later, of course, but for now I’m too excited to pry.
“Do you like the chaise I bought for you?” he asks.
A new, long velvety green chaise lounge that’s perfect for snuggling up with a book sits beside the window. “I do, and I can’t wait to read on it.”
His eyes hold mine, a longing moment where it seems his mind is going somewhere else. To where? I’m not sur e
Sin plucks a random book from the shelf, opening it. “Why wait?” He pans his hand, inviting me to lie down.
I sink into the chaise lounge, watching him. The soft velvet feels good against my skin.
He clears his throat dramatically, and I laugh. The only sounds are the gentle rustling of paper as he turns the pages.
“Two households, both alike in dignity, in fair Verona, where we lay our scene. From ancient grudge breaks to new mutiny, where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.”
I swoon listening to him read Romeo and Juliet. How did he know this was my favorite?
Who would have thought someone reading a book could be so sensual?
Sin slides his hand behind my back, easing me forward. He slips in behind me, my body leaning against him.
One hand holding open the book, the other on the bare skin of my neck, the warm touch sends a shiver throughout my body. I know it’s wrong, to lust this way.
My soft cotton shorts allow a thin layer of protection between his hands and me. I feel every movement he makes with ridiculous tension. The way his hands caress my neck, then slowly graze down over my breasts, giving them a gentle squeeze.
I groan as he pulls his hands away to flip to another page deeper in the book. It turns me on more that he is going to direct quotes; he knows this book through and through.
“My bounty is as boundless as the sea,
My love as deep; the more I give to thee,
The more I have, for both are infinite.”
I don’t read more into his words, because everything is too new. I can’t imagine Sin ever loving me, but true to my imaginative brain, the escapism I find in reading, I pretend for a moment that his feelings are true. That I’m on this lounge with a man who loves me as he reaches his hand to squeeze mine.
Then, he takes his fingertip, trailing my inner thighs, dangerously close to somewhere he shouldn’t be.
I moan in pleasure at the first swipe of his palm against me.
From everything I have been taught this is sinful, I am an abomination, unclean. Because a man has touched me before being wed. It’s been so easy to escape the teachings of my childhood, to ignore everything I have been taught until this moment. I want to stand up, to walk away.
But his fingers feel so good against me, so gentle and calm and euphoria-inducing. His inked finger gently swipes across my slit, over my soft shorts. I can’t imagine what this would feel like if they were off.
Each time his hands leave to flip the pages, it leaves me aching for more. I buck my hips in frustration. “Patience, Magnolia,” he whispers between us. His gentle tone does the opposite effect. It does not calm me; it makes me feral.
“I kiss thee with a most constant heart.”
As he kisses the soft spot on my neck, I decide I can pray for forgiveness later and allow myself to ease into the pleasure.
His fingers dance against me, such a sensitive part of myself that I have never explored. He takes that away from me and I want him to. I don’t want him to ever stop.
I dip my head back involuntarily, pushing my body against him, feeling the hard ridges of his shoulders, his abs, his …
“ These violent delights have violent ends ,” he whispers into my ear with his heavy Italian accent and for the first time, I release control and slide into the wave of pleasure allowing it to overtake my entire acing body.
I feel him against me, hard and feral. A moan escapes my lips, leaving me breathless as I gasp for air, bucking myself into his hand.
If it feels so good, how could it be so wrong?
Sin wraps his arms around me, planting me in his secure and protective arms, reading me snippets of Romeo and Juliet as I bask in the feeling of my first anything.