The Sinner's Club [18+] Complete

chapter thirty.

NATHANIEL PICKS ME up and carries me upstairs, down a long hallway and into a spacious bedroom. One wall is made entirely of glass, looking out over the backyard.

"That's the biggest bed I've ever seen," I murmur to myself, still a little drowsy from my orgasm.

He doesn't comment, just places me down carefully on the charcoal duvet, my hair fanning out around me. I run my hands up to the dark silk sheets, feeling them between my fingertips.

Nathaniel cups my ankle, rubbing his thumb over the bone there, as he stands at the end of the bed looking down at me. With his other hand, he starts to undo his belt buckle. I watch with wide-eyed fascination as he draws the leather out of the loops of his trousers. I get caught on the outline of his erection, straining against the zipper of his dark pants.

"Hands, Wren," he says. My brain is a little foggy, so it takes me a moment to hold out my hands. He wraps his belt around my wrists, tying it securely and then drawing them up. As he leans over me, a knee on the mattress, I can't help but stare at his lips. "Tell me what you're thinking," he requests, pinning my bound hands to the pillow above my head.

"I'm–I'm thinking..." I don't want to admit it but I'm also not coherent enough right now to plausibly lie. "I'm thinking about kissing you," I whisper.

He pauses, his chest lightly rubbing against my nipples, and his eyes momentarily dart down to my own lips.

But then he is pulling back, hooking his fingers in the sides of my underwear and drawing them down. "I fully intend to taste you, don't worry. Open your legs for me."

More shameless than I ever imagined I could be, I spread my knees apart and he hooks them over his shoulders, lowering himself until he is hovering right above my pussy.

I make a strangled sound at his breath feathering over me. "Nathaniel."

Using his fingers to spread me open, he licks a long line up my pussy, swirling his tongue over my clit. I arch up, my bound arms coming down as I reach for his hair.

Without hesitation, he lifts his head, leaving me aching and needy. An indignant whine is pulled from me.

"Put your arms back up. Right now."

So it's going to be like that...

I lift my arms over my head and he buries his head back between my thighs.

This time, my orgasm builds slowly. The pressure of his tongue is almost like a tease, never too much but never quite enough either. The long strokes start to slowly drive me insane and every time I move my arms down to pull his head closer, he stops. It is a maddening cycle, torturous and delicious all at once.

"Please, I need–I need..."

I am a mess, twisting and arching and canting my hips. He pushes himself up and hovers above me, his lips glistening with my wetness.

"You are so pretty like this, all flushed and pathetic, begging to come. It's almost my favorite look on you."

Almost? My mind is too addled with lust to question him on that further.

His fingers ghost over my entrance, then up to my clit. It's a featherlight touch, hardly there.

"Are you ready to come?"

"Yes! Yes, please, Nathaniel."

He lifts one hand to my neck and carefully wraps his fingers around my windpipe, applying some light pressure. With his other hand, he rubs at my clit in fast circles and I cry out. My heels dig into the bed, my back lifting as I shake. He draws it out, continuing to touch me even after I'm over sensitive and trying to move away from his insistent hands.