The Sinner's Club [18+] Complete

chapter twenty-nine.

THE DOOR SWINGS open. I am like a deer caught in headlights, staring up at Nathaniel as he stands in the doorway.

Tonight, he's not wearing a suit jacket or tie. Just a white button down, the sleeves rolled up his forearms, and dark, navy slacks. His hair isn't as neat as usual, like he's been running his fingers through it.

He lets his eyes wander down my body, and then he glances at the Rolex on his wrist. "You're seven minutes late."

I scowl. "You're an asshole."

"So I've been told." He steps to the side and nods his head for me to come in, but I hesitate, clutching my jacket around me like it is a shield of some kind. "Come inside, Wren." His tone leaves no room for argument.

I step across the threshold and into his home.

It is cold inside and rather bare. The tiles are gleaming and white, the walls sparsely decorated with a few pieces of abstract art. I tilt my head back to see high ceilings and a hanging chandelier.

Nathaniel slips his hand onto my back and urges me forward, down a hallway and into the open kitchen and living area.

Everything is clean and looks expensive—marble and glass and steel—but it's all very...impersonal.

I stare at the murky outline of my reflection in the glass sliding door that leads to the backyard, watching as the shadow of Nathaniel's figure draws closer behind me. Looming, sinister.

A shiver runs down my spine when I feel his breath on the back of my ear. I wish I could say it's only from fear...but the truth is, my stomach is clenching in anticipation.

His hands come up and ease my coat off my shoulders, sliding it down my arms and then placing it over one of the white stools at the kitchen bench.

"Turn around." His voice is quiet, measured.

I turn slowly, glowering up at him. "Is that what tonight is going to be then—you issuing me a series of commands that I'm expected to follow without question?"

The ghost of a smirk graces his lips. "Is that something you'd want, little bird?"

I force an unimpressed expression onto my face, but my knees are starting to feel a little unstable.

He presses a knuckle beneath my chin, tipping my head up a few inches. "I think you like being told what to do." The words are practically spoken onto my lips.

Mouth dry, breath caged, I stare at him unblinking.

His hand drops, and he walks past me to the leather couch, sinking down and resting his arms along the back of it. Dark eyes wander my frame freely.

"Take your dress off," he commands casually. "Slowly."

"You're not even going to offer me a drink?" I try to sound indignant but I don't think I pull it off. I'm too breathless right now.

"No. I want you completely sober so you remember every second of what I do to you tonight. Now, take your dress off."

I step forward till I am right in front of him and then reach up behind my back, dragging the zipper down. The fabric falls loose around my body. Drawing one strap down my arm slowly, I maintain painstaking eye contact with him, watching as arousal fills his gaze. The lace of my white bra becomes visible and he raises an eyebrow, rubbing a hand over his mouth.

"Did you dress up for me, Wren?"

"I thought you liked me in white."

"I like you in every color. I like you even better in nothing at all."

I pull my dress over my waist and down my legs until it is pooling around my heels. I know he wanted me sober but I feel drunk on the way he is looking at me, like I am an apparition, a vision his mind has conjured that he cannot escape. One that he does not want to escape.

The cool air touches my skin and my nipples harden, surely visible even beneath my bra.

"Come here." The pleading note in his husky voice gives me a heady rush of power. I step forward, between his knees, and without hesitation, his hands slide onto the back of my legs. Moving them slowly up towards my ass, his touch leaves a trail of warmth in its wake. Each breath I take becomes shorter and more labored as his fingers creep beneath my underwear. "I don't like you in white because it makes you look virginal, Wren. I like you in white because you are a fucking angel."

His words catch me off guard and all I can do is stand there, frozen and at the mercy of his touch.

Suddenly his fingers dig into the back of my upper thighs and he pulls me down, onto him. My knees fall on either side of his hips as I am pressed against the outline of his erection, my hands landing on his shoulders.

Our faces are close and I can't help but look at his mouth. Is it insane that I want to taste him?

His hands run up and down my bare back, before settling on my waist. He rocks me back and forth slowly, dragging me across his erection. Pleasure ignites me from the inside out and a whimper leaves my lips.

I grip his shoulders harder and start grinding against him.

"That's it." He sounds as breathless as I feel, rocking his hips into me in synchronicity. My knees spread further as I become desperate for more friction, the fabric of my underwear and his pants stopping me from getting what I really need.

He reaches up behind me and deftly unclips my bra, sliding it down my shoulders and casting it aside. Without hesitation, he leans forward and sucks one of my nipples into his mouth. A strangled moan escapes me, my hand plunging into his hair and gripping it tightly.

He switches over to the other nipple, scraping his teeth gently along it as my hips move faster and faster, my movements becoming more erratic.

But still it is not enough. "Nathaniel," I beg, pray, gasp.

His hand snakes down into the front of my underwear, his finger tracing along my soaked slit.

"Do you want me to touch you?" It's a tease but he sounds as desperate as I feel.

I nod, but he says, "I can't hear you."

"Yes! Jesus, Nathaniel, yes!"

His middle finger finally, blessedly rubs my clit. I jolt forward, wrapping my arms around his neck to anchor myself as he circles me over and over again. My face burrows into his shoulder in an attempt to stay quiet.

"You ask for permission before you come. Do you understand?"

All I can do is nod my agreement. He pushes a finger inside of me, fucking me with it slow and deep. When his thumb taps against my clit, I gasp, "Can I come?"

"Say pretty please, Wren."

"Fuck you," I growl out, and a breathless chuckle leaves him.

"I intend to, baby. Now say please."

His finger moves quicker in and out of me, and I have no choice but to give in. "Please, Nathaniel."

I feel his lips press against my temple. "Come for me."

It washes over me in a tidal wave, every muscle tightening.

The outside world and the circumstances which brought me here all fade away in the face of this consuming pleasure.

When it eventually subsides, I go limp, collapsing against him. He holds me close, stroking my hair. My nipples brush against the fabric of his shirt, my lips against the skin of his neck.

I feel my eyes start to droop and Nathaniel says, "Don't fall asleep on me yet, little bird. The night has only just begun."

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry on the delay guys, work is so busy rn. But the next chapter will be out soon.

Just a warning, if you thought the story so far has been kinky/spicy...the next few chapters are something else. You've been warned.