Page 75 of Craving Sin

“Because I was meant to be yours,” I say. “No one’s but yours.”

His jaw tightens, hand frantically sliding up and down his cock. “Fuck. Here it comes. Gonna give it to you. Gonna give you all my cum.”

The first spurt hits my cheek. I open my mouth and the second hits its target, before he shoots on my shoulder and chest too.

When his balls are run dry, he traces my lips with his cockhead, and I lick any remaining cum from him. He pulls me to my feet, lowers me to the bed, and lies beside me, sucking me into his hot, wet mouth.

He’s taking me down like a man starving, like he’s been waiting a lifetime to have his mouth on my cock again.

I’m too close to the edge already, arching upward. “Can’t hold back. I’m going to come.”

He pulls off, lying back. “Do it on me too. Make me yours.”

A bolt of unfamiliar possessiveness lights me up from the inside. I push onto my knees, wrap my hand around my shaft, jerking myself off until the hot splatter of my cum hits his stomach and chest.

I rub it into his skin, just as he does mine, then Rian lifts the covers over me, turns out the light, and climbs into bed with me. “Everything is going to be okay. I promise you.”

I smile into the dark room, believing him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Rian

Abbott’s breathing is even beside me, sleep having taken hold of him hours ago. It’s not surprising that it eludes me. Sleep often does and that’s on a normal day—not one where I find out that the man I clearly care about is in danger, and then bring him home with me…to the place I never expected to share with anyone I want like this.

I maybe more than want him, but I don’t know how to begin sorting through that possibility in my head, so instead, I lean forward and kiss his freckled shoulder before climbing out of bed.

I grab my cell, pull on a pair of pants, and slip out of the room.

The sun shines brightly through the windows when I go downstairs, calling Conan as I go.

“Hey,” I say.

“Pulling up now.”

“All right.” I end the call and go to the front door. Conan wouldn’t have slept last night either, but he looks refreshed in a way that I don’t feel.

He comes with me to my office, taking a chair on the other side of my desk. “Everything go okay last night?” he asks.

“Yeah. I left him in bed asleep.”

Conan cocks a brow at me.

I get it. This whole situation is unexpected and so far from anything I ever thought I would do. If I can’t believe it, I’m sure he can’t either. “Did you expect me to deny it? I brought him to my home, C.”

“It’s okay that you did, you know that, right? Moira would want that for you. She would hate that you’ve been alone this long.”

Yes, she would have. All she ever wanted was for Cillian and me to be happy. She wanted that for all the people she loved. “Haven’t you been the one telling me I had to kill him? That if I didn’t, you would do it for me? That you don’t trust him?”

“I don’t trust him, because I don’t know him. I trust you, though. He’s important to you, and your reaction last night tells me he isn’t going anywhere—though I think I knew it when I first got to the cabin.”

“How?” I find myself asking.

“Why did you bring him to the cabin?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why were you with him in the first place?”