Read Online Sinner (The Hades Squad #1) by Jianne Carlo - Free Book Online
Authors: Jianne Carlo
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of his sight.
No way was she returning to New York City without him.
Two weeks ago he'd spent Labor Day with his family. The hotdog and burger holiday had left an ache in his chest. Watching his siblings, their spouses, and their children had made him realize how much he'd given up with constant deployments. He missed the good old U.S. of A. Missed apple pie, ice cream, and fireworks on the Fourth of July. He'd envied his siblings and their Campbell's-soup-commercial family units.
An only child.
He glanced down at her.
Did she want kids?
In repose, her features had softened, her plump lips relaxing into a dreamy curve. Her breasts rose and fell, scraping his chest with each inhalation. Linc's thoughts splintered. He yearned to be inside her, to feel her walls clenching his dick; yet he felt strangely content, savoring the way she curled around him, her leg bent over his groin, one arm looped around his neck. So trusting, so his.
His thoughts speared and tangoed, testing strategies—persuade her to live with him, move to New York City, probably Manhattan. Hell, he hated big cities. Would she settle for Long Island? Just how much did this editor gig mean to her? Maybe she could do her job remotely?
Exhaustion claimed him limb by limb. Accustomed to taking his body to extremes, to constant discipline and vigilance, to always being alert, his awareness slipped, and he slid into her warmth, into her hold, and the slumber of the ages drained his brain.
The next thing he knew, the bright rays of a noonday sun warmed his eyelids. Destiny snuggled closer, her hand exploring his left nipple, her thumb resting on the pointed tip. His morning woody swelled and lengthened. He nuzzled her neck, she moaned, and Linc traced her face, rosy color staining her cheekbones. Was she dreaming of him? All at once he knew, knew right to his core, he'd make sure he was the only one starring in her morning sex fantasies. Jesus, he loved a first-thing-in-the-morning fuck. And this was their first.
Linc slid his hand between her legs, loving the access the angle of her leg over his pelvis gave, and he slipped two fingers between her folds, relishing the way she moistened and creamed under his caress. His eyes crossed.
Slow, slow, Destiny isn't even used to regular sex.
He grabbed a condom from the bedside table, opened the foil packet, and rolled the rubber down his dick. He played with her slick pussy, toying with her labia, and spreading her cream over her hooded clit. He slipped a finger inside her and couldn't choke back a groan when she tightened around the digit, her walls clamping his forefinger.
“Mmm,” she murmured, her hot breath warming the chill air in the bedroom.
“Mornin',” he whispered, kissing her forehead, his thumb searching for her clit.
“Whaaat?” She shot up, elbows digging into his pecs, obsidian eyes as wide as the bowls they'd used for the stew last night.
He slid his finger out. Her gaze flew to his hand. He used two fingers to thrust inside her.
Her lids lowered; her head fell back.
“Sore?” Praying she'd answer in the negative, he continued his finger fucking, inserting another digit when she bit his shoulder.
“No, not sore.” Destiny licked the skin she'd bitten. “Aching.” Her teeth closed over the cusp of his shoulder and sank into his flesh.
“Beauty, Destiny. Beauty.” He crooned encouragement, lifted her over him, spread her legs, and thrust into her creaming pussy. “Jesus, you feel good.”
So tight, so hot and wet, so welcoming, clamping the glans of his dick, her walls fighting his drive to her core.
“Please move.” She feathered kisses on his Adam's apple, licked a wet trail up his throat, and nibbled his chin. “Please.”
He wanted to, wanted to pound her pussy, make her shake and tremble and fucking come again and again and then some more. Linc gritted his teeth and fisted one hand in her hair; the other squeezed one ass cheek. “Don't move. Not an inch.”
She
No way was she returning to New York City without him.
Two weeks ago he'd spent Labor Day with his family. The hotdog and burger holiday had left an ache in his chest. Watching his siblings, their spouses, and their children had made him realize how much he'd given up with constant deployments. He missed the good old U.S. of A. Missed apple pie, ice cream, and fireworks on the Fourth of July. He'd envied his siblings and their Campbell's-soup-commercial family units.
An only child.
He glanced down at her.
Did she want kids?
In repose, her features had softened, her plump lips relaxing into a dreamy curve. Her breasts rose and fell, scraping his chest with each inhalation. Linc's thoughts splintered. He yearned to be inside her, to feel her walls clenching his dick; yet he felt strangely content, savoring the way she curled around him, her leg bent over his groin, one arm looped around his neck. So trusting, so his.
His thoughts speared and tangoed, testing strategies—persuade her to live with him, move to New York City, probably Manhattan. Hell, he hated big cities. Would she settle for Long Island? Just how much did this editor gig mean to her? Maybe she could do her job remotely?
Exhaustion claimed him limb by limb. Accustomed to taking his body to extremes, to constant discipline and vigilance, to always being alert, his awareness slipped, and he slid into her warmth, into her hold, and the slumber of the ages drained his brain.
The next thing he knew, the bright rays of a noonday sun warmed his eyelids. Destiny snuggled closer, her hand exploring his left nipple, her thumb resting on the pointed tip. His morning woody swelled and lengthened. He nuzzled her neck, she moaned, and Linc traced her face, rosy color staining her cheekbones. Was she dreaming of him? All at once he knew, knew right to his core, he'd make sure he was the only one starring in her morning sex fantasies. Jesus, he loved a first-thing-in-the-morning fuck. And this was their first.
Linc slid his hand between her legs, loving the access the angle of her leg over his pelvis gave, and he slipped two fingers between her folds, relishing the way she moistened and creamed under his caress. His eyes crossed.
Slow, slow, Destiny isn't even used to regular sex.
He grabbed a condom from the bedside table, opened the foil packet, and rolled the rubber down his dick. He played with her slick pussy, toying with her labia, and spreading her cream over her hooded clit. He slipped a finger inside her and couldn't choke back a groan when she tightened around the digit, her walls clamping his forefinger.
“Mmm,” she murmured, her hot breath warming the chill air in the bedroom.
“Mornin',” he whispered, kissing her forehead, his thumb searching for her clit.
“Whaaat?” She shot up, elbows digging into his pecs, obsidian eyes as wide as the bowls they'd used for the stew last night.
He slid his finger out. Her gaze flew to his hand. He used two fingers to thrust inside her.
Her lids lowered; her head fell back.
“Sore?” Praying she'd answer in the negative, he continued his finger fucking, inserting another digit when she bit his shoulder.
“No, not sore.” Destiny licked the skin she'd bitten. “Aching.” Her teeth closed over the cusp of his shoulder and sank into his flesh.
“Beauty, Destiny. Beauty.” He crooned encouragement, lifted her over him, spread her legs, and thrust into her creaming pussy. “Jesus, you feel good.”
So tight, so hot and wet, so welcoming, clamping the glans of his dick, her walls fighting his drive to her core.
“Please move.” She feathered kisses on his Adam's apple, licked a wet trail up his throat, and nibbled his chin. “Please.”
He wanted to, wanted to pound her pussy, make her shake and tremble and fucking come again and again and then some more. Linc gritted his teeth and fisted one hand in her hair; the other squeezed one ass cheek. “Don't move. Not an inch.”
She
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