Page 31 of The Vixen

Soclose.

“Yes!” My head falls back as I cry out, my grip on Sawyer so tight I could be suffocating him against my breast if it were larger. “Oh God, yes!”

My hands tremble when I finally let go; my hips melt as the tension snaps. I breathe heavily past my orgasm as my skin flushes hot.

But I’m not finished.

My eyes seek Sawyer’s crotch, shoulders hunched with my labored breathing.

Sick.

Siren.

Perverted.

Temptress.

Which am I?

I blink through my lust. The sight of Sawyer’s erection is such a relief, I nearly fall on top of him. But I don’t. I sit up tall; work to regain my composure.

“Take me to the bedroom,” I order.

Sawyer flicks his eyes to the door.

“The Keeper left… It’s just us.”

A look crosses Sawyer’s face that I tryhardto ignore. A vicious consideration. An opportunity he may never get again.

My heart flutters as my hands tug at the makeshift binds.

The look fades. He scoops his arms beneath my knees and lifts me in one smooth movement, his lips latching onto mine.

I moan while lifting my bound arms around his neck and kiss him to his rhythm. I let him lead, guide me, carry me to the bedroom with his even, exact gait. He doesn’t stumble nor does he watch where he’s going, and for some reason, I’m filled with a sense of security. Like I could never be lost with him.

Wrong.

So dangerously wrong.

As we make it to the bed, he lays me down, and his lips find my neck while he situates himself on top of me. Pleasure builds as his hardened length presses between my clothed legs, making my heels dig into the freshly-washed comforter, my nails slicing his wounded back.

“Shit,” he hisses, jerking away.

I brush his shoulders while peering up at his pained face. “I’m sorry.”

After a moment of cringing, he shakes his head as if to dismiss my apology. When he goes back to my neck, I cup his face and force him to look at me.

“No…” My neck arches at the feel of his breath on my lips. “I mean I’msorry.”

Eyes, full of lust and anger soften. His lips dip into a frown just before he kisses me. I don’t know if it’s forgiveness. Neither of us deserve it.

But it’s nice.

I part my lips for him and welcome his tongue inside my mouth while running my nails up and down his arms. Gingerly. Lovingly. No more pain. No more punishment.

He pops the button on my pants and slips his hand inside my underwear. As soon as his finger finds my clit, I moan into his mouth and grasp his shoulders.

Pleasure ripples through me and melts me into the bed. The cruelest thing he could possibly do is stop.