Make Me Sin

50

It’s the first time he’s called me baby. For some unthinkable reason, it makes me so wet and desperate, I moan again, grinding my pelvis against his.

It’s that moan that finally breaks through his resistance. With a snarled oath, he pushes me onto my back, rips my boy shorts off my body, and buries his face between my legs.

I cry out, delirious, writhing as he grips my ass in his hands and sucks hard where I most need it. Every time I make a sound of pleasure, he makes a low noise in his throat that sends a pulse of vibration through my core. It makes me moan louder, which makes him suck harder. He slides two fingers inside me and I buck, crying out. I quickly build to a peak so hot and bright my entire body bows. My back lifts off the bed. My hands, clenched in his hair, shake.

In what feels like a nuclear detonation, I come. His name rips from my lips in a long, wavering scream.

Upstairs, my neighbor pounds on the wall, shouting for me to shut up.

Panting, I collapse against the mattress. The entire process from n****e flick to orgasm has taken approximately thirty seconds.

He crawls up my body, takes my face in his hands, and kisses me, deep and hard. I taste myself on him and nearly come again.

“Off!” I claw at the waistband of his jeans. I want him inside me so badly I can’t wait one second longer.

Unfortunately, I’ll be waiting a hell of a lot longer than one second, because A.J. says, “No.”

I freeze, hoping I’ve misheard him. “Excuse me?”

“I said no.”

My heart stalls, then reboots with a painful thud. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Chloe—”

“You have GOT to be KIDDING!” I try pushing at the mountains of his shoulders, but he doesn’t budge. He rises up on his elbows, and pins my wrists to the pillow above my head.

“Listen to me.”

I can already hear the excuses in his voice, all the I’m so sorrys and the It’s for the bests. I groan, turn my face away, and squeeze shut my eyes.

“I already told you I wouldn’t—”

“You jerk! What is this to you, some kind of game? Do you think this is funny, making me beg you for it? Watching me lose control and be completely pathetic—is that what gets you off?”

“Yes, watching you lose control gets me off! So does listening to you lose control, and hearing that perfect mouth tell me all the filthy things you want, and tasting your beautiful sweet p***y, and hearing you beg for my c**k! It all gets me off and it’s taking every f*****g crumb of self-control I have not to bury myself balls-deep inside you right now!”

He roars the last part into my face. I lie there panting and livid under him, my eyes filling with tears.

“Then tell me why not. You’ve said you won’t, but you haven’t said why not. At least give me that.”

He closes his eyes and drops his forehead to my shoulder. “Because you can’t be mine. You can never be mine. And if I f**k you, baby, you’ll be mine forever.”

There’s pain in his voice, pain, longing, and sorrow. I turn my head, press my lips to his temple. “What if I want to be yours?”

He shakes his head. “I told you. I’m not that selfish.”

I whisper, “Please, A.J. Please help me understand. I don’t understand.”

Instead of answering, he rolls to his back and flips me on top of him, so my naked body is flush against his. He tucks my head into the crook of his neck, cradling it with one big hand, and smooths the other hand over my hair. He begins to rub my back, gently, his palm warm and rough against my skin.

I exhale, shuddering. He’s not going to tell me anything more. He’s given all he’s going to give.

“I should tell you to leave.”

His deep inhalation makes his chest rise beneath my cheek. “You don’t want me to leave. And I wouldn’t, anyway.”

My nose is pressed against the tattoos of the crosses on his neck. I close my eyes to block the sight of them, because I know I’ll never find out what they mean. I’ve come up against the brick wall of A.J.’s will, reached the sheer cliff of his sharing. There will be nothing beyond what I already have.

As he pets and strokes my naked back, his hands so tender and cherishing, somehow I begin to relax. The steady beat of his heart against mine soothes me, as does his breathing, the slow, rhythmic rise and fall of his strong chest. I’m more confused than ever, but, lying in his arms, I still feel safe.

I sigh, wind my arms around his shoulders, and snuggle closer to his body, as close as I can get.

He presses his lips against my hair. So, so quietly, he says, “You make me think there might be a God after all.”

My face crumples. My heart feels like someone is stabbing it over and over with scissors. “I thought I made you want to die.”

His hand drops to my bottom, and he squeezes. “Well, this ass could kill a man.”

I raise my head and look at him. His face is solemn, but his eyes are sparkling. He’s making a joke.

“Oh, it’s time for funny A.J. to come out and play? Thanks for the heads-up. Let me just look around for my neck brace because I’ve got a nasty case of whiplash from all your prior mood swings.”

He grins. “I love it when you give me shit.”

“Really? Because I hate it when you give me shit.”

His amused look turns smoldering. “Don’t lie to me. You love it just as much as I do.”