Page 84 of Lawless Sinners

We’re really gonna cross the line…

Every reason not to is right there, lined up and shouting. Eilish. My brothers. The engagement party. And every one of them loses to the throb between my legs telling me that if he stops now, I’d beg him to fill me.

Fionn looks down at me, his inked chest marked, his hand collared around my throat.

“Say what you need.”

God, I hate him, and I need him anyway.

“Fuck you,” I hiss.

“That can be arranged.” His thumb presses beneath my jaw. “If you just say it, little wild thing.”

“Fuck me, you bastard.”

“Fuck me, Fionn,” he corrects.

I should spit in his face and fight harder. I should do anything except crave the damage my mouth can do when I give him what he wants.

“I’ll say it if you stop pretending this is only happening because I want it,” I breathe, scraping my nails over his shoulders. “Say it.”

His fingers dig into my jaw, forcing my face to stay in place as he lowers his mouth close so his breath mingles with mine.

He stares into my eyes, jaw clenched, breath rough, and when my nails scrape over his shoulders, his dick parts the opening by a fraction.

The movement is shallow, barely an inch, and I feel the stretch of it everywhere. My muscles clamp around him, and he swears against my mouth. I need the rest. I need all of it. I need him buried so deep it ruins me for anything gentler.

He won’t give me words, but his body gives him away in the brutal restraint of every locked inch of him.

His mouth brushes mine with a barely-there kiss.

“Say my name,” he mutters against my lips.

I find his nipples and pinch, watching his control tear a little more.

“Say it, Sera.” His fingers tighten on my jaw.

“Fionn,” I whisper.

His fingers flex, control fraying down to the last thread.

“Protection?”

“I’m covered.”

As soon as it leaves my mouth, the first hard inch of his dick pushes past the resistance, stretching me open, and it steals every scrap of air out of my lungs.

He doesn’t stop there. He works himself slowly, forcing me to take him inch by thick inch until my thighs are shaking around his hips, and I’m clawing at his skin.

The relief is shattering.

A broken cry tears out of me as my inner walls stretch around the thick push of him, burning at the edges, and for one helpless second all the fight goes out of me, because he’s in my lungs, on my tongue, under my nails.

Everywhere I should never let him be.

He’s too much and exactly enough, hot and deep and finally inside me after weeks of hatred turning into hunger every time we got too close.

I clench around him so hard he curses, his forehead dropping to mine.