Forgotten Sins (Sin Brothers, #1)

“Fine.” She pushed back against him, her bare butt against his erection. Her eyelids fluttered shut.


He grabbed her hip, holding her still. His other hand flattened against her belly, sliding up across her breasts to her throat. Flames licked her skin. He cupped the unbruised side of her jaw, and tugged back, stretching her neck. “Keep your hands on the tile.”

He held her immobile, resting her head against his shoulder and dipping his mouth to her exposed jugular. His warm palm curved around her neck, holding her where he wanted her. His teeth sank into the soft area of her shoulder. Marking her.

Her thighs quivered. A spiraling started deep inside, and she pushed back against him.

A sharp slap against her ass had her crying out. “Stay still.”

She stiffened, too many emotions whipping through her to concentrate on just one. An edge had always existed in Shane, especially in the bedroom. But something had been let loose. A wildness, a darkness she’d always suspected he hid. His memories were returning, and yet he hadn’t retreated behind that wall.

Maybe things could be different this time.

His mouth found her ear to nip her earlobe. Tingles sprang up on her skin as he covered her breasts, tweaking both nipples before sliding south. Parting her, he slipped two fingers into her heat. “You’re so hot for me.”

Her knees softened. She pushed her flattened hands harder against the tiles, trying to maintain balance. To maintain control. He angled his palm, sliding against her clit. She cried out. Too much. She needed him now.

He chuckled hot breath against her ear, the sound wicked and arrogant. “We stayed at a hotel with a small pool once. Right?”

Her sex clutched around his dangerous fingers. “Yes. You remember?”

“The water, you, the steam… a memory is coming back.” His erection jerked against her ass. His fingers played, crisscrossing inside her. His other hand kneaded her breast, concentrating on rolling the nipple between two fingers. “We made good use of that pool. You screamed my name as you milked me dry.”

Yes, but he’d been so gentle, even then. She hadn’t wanted gentleness. She’d wanted him. Memories flashed through her mind, showing how very different he was now. Man, she wanted him like this. “Shane, please.”

“Ah, angel. I love how sweetly you ask.” Bending over her, he slid a rough palm down her hip and leg, lifting her knee to place her foot on the narrow bench. A quiver began around his fingers. He withdrew and she hissed in protest. “Not yet,” he murmured, “We have a few things to get straight first.”

Focus. Her mind spun while her body throbbed. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re in danger, and you’re going to let me handle it.” He pressed against her entrance, sliding forward so slowly, too slowly. She pushed back against him, crying out when he filled her. Both eyes opened wide.

Muscles vibrated in her shoulders as she straightened her arms, taking more of him. Taking all of him.

He groaned against her ear, his body protecting her back from the hot spray. “You’re a dangerous woman, Mrs. Dean.”

Her laugh came out strangled. “I appreciate that, Major Dean.” She tilted forward and then slammed back.

His hands instantly clasped her hips, keeping her in place. “Slow down, darlin’.”

“No.” She struggled against his hands, causing sparks of pure pleasure to ripple along the sensitive nerves holding him captive.

His indrawn breath made her smile in triumph. She did it again.

“Damn it, Josie. I want to talk.” But he slid out and then impaled her.

She closed her eyes. Fire sheeted white behind her eyelids. Using the wall for leverage, she pushed back, throwing her head against his shoulder, biting her lips.

Shane snapped. With a growl, he dug his fingers into her hips, yanking her against him. Then he started to pound. Harder and faster than ever before. Furious and forceful, he settled his mouth at the base of her neck. He was finally being himself, finally taking her like she needed. For the first time, she felt like he was hers—completely. All of him belonged to her and her only.

She cried out, the delicious friction so fierce her breath caught on the scream. Pleasure stabbed through her at his relentless strokes. Need whipped along her nerves to the point of pain. The pinnacle she needed to crest or die.

His hand slid down and found her clit.

Fire ripped through her nerves. She broke, tumbling over. Her mouth opened on a silent scream as she arched her back, letting the overwhelming pleasure ripple through her. She sobbed his name.

With a tightening of his hold, he pounded harder. Faster. His large body tightened around her as he came, his breath hot at her ear. Finally, he stopped moving, remaining inside her, his heart beating a rapid tempo against her back. “I love you, angel.”

The words were soft.

The tone possessive.

The promise absolute.

*

Rebecca Zanetti's books