King of Sloth (Kings of Sin, 4)

When I reentered the observation deck and saw Sloane standing there, my relief had been so overwhelming I couldn’t move for a good five seconds.

I’d waited there for hours, and there’d been a moment—many moments—when I thought she wouldn’t show. I’d been convinced I’d fucked up by giving her an ultimatum and that I’d ruined my chances of winning her back in the future.

But by some miracle, she had showed, and that was all I needed to never let her go again.

We didn’t stay at the Empire State Building long. For one, it was way too fucking cold. For two…well, we had better things to do.

Sloane and I stumbled into her apartment without taking our hands or mouths off one another.

We knew each other’s bodies so intimately, the buildup was almost thoughtless in its precision—a nip on the sensitive spot behind her left ear, a sliding caress from my stomach to chest and shoulders.

Our clothes left a trail from her front door to her room, where I pushed her onto the bed and paused, taking a moment just to drink her in.

Sloane stared up at me, her lips swollen from my attentions and her eyes shining in a way that made my heart squeeze.

I love you.

Three words, uttered countless times by countless people over the centuries. Yet coming from her, they had the power to bring me to my knees.

I kissed her again, leisurely mapping a path from her mouth to her neck and shoulders. I took a prolonged detour to her breasts, where I grazed my teeth gently across her hard nipples. A shudder rolled through her body, and her moans became pleas as I licked and sucked and teased until she was begging me to fuck her.

“Please,” Sloane gasped. “I need you inside me. Xavier.” She whimpered again when I finally released her breasts to kiss my way down her stomach to her arousal. She was so damn wet for me that it made my mouth water.

I wanted to touch her, taste her, fill her up. I wanted every single inch of her against every single inch of me, and I couldn’t wait a second more.

I dove in like a man starved, licking over and inside her, tasting her deeply. My fingers worked in tandem with my mouth, and when I ran my tongue over her needy little clit, her moan shot straight to my already aching cock.

I sucked her tender flesh gently into my mouth before I flattened my tongue against her, letting her set the rhythm as her writhing took on a frenzied pace. She ground against my face, her hands tangled tight in my hair, her hips moving faster and faster until—

Sloane let out a cry of protest when I pulled away.

“Not yet, sweetheart.” I grabbed a condom from the top drawer of her nightstand, rolled it onto my cock, and lined the tip up with her entrance. “I want to feel you come around me.”

She narrowed her eyes, her face flushed from exertion and her denied orgasm. “Then fuck me already.”

Laughter rumbled through my chest, but it devolved into a groan when I gripped her hips and finally sank inside her.

Christ. I swore I could feel every millimeter of her cunt as it took me to the hilt, and she was so tight and wet and perfect that I would never believe she wasn’t made for me. Not when being inside her felt like sliding home after years of aimless wandering.

I fucked her with long, slow strokes, giving her time to adjust and myself time to regain control before I picked up the pace. A squeal fell out of her mouth at the first hard thrust, followed by a breathy gasp when I found the exact angle that made her claw at my back with abandon.

Her hips bucked up to match my rhythm, and the headboard slammed against the wall as I fucked us into a mess of sweat and cum. The slap of skin against skin, the sounds of Sloane’s moans, the way her body shook from the force of my pounding…

It was too much.

I bit back another groan. I was about to come, but I’d be damned if I didn’t take her with me.

I kept my pace steady as my fingers found her clit. It was still swollen and sensitive from my earlier attentions, and I’d barely grazed it before her muscles stiffened and her pussy squeezed around me.

Sloane’s nails dug painful grooves in my skin as she came with a loud cry. I felt her contractions in every cell of my body, and it pulled my own climax forth in a powerful burst.

I couldn’t put a name to the sound I made if I tried, but my orgasm was so intense, so all-consuming, that my mind blanked for a full minute before reality slowly returned.

I touched my forehead to hers, my chest heaving, and stayed inside her until every twitch and throb of my cock finally stilled.

It was only with the utmost reluctance that I withdrew and disposed of my condom before I settled beside Sloane again. I curled an arm around her waist and brought her close, taking comfort in the steady rhythm of her breathing.

“My neighbors are going to hate me,” she murmured.

I laughed, pushing her hair back so I could admire every inch of her flushed, content face. “Only because they’re jealous.”

“Even ninety-year-old Irma?” She sounded skeptical. “Especially ninety-year-old Irma.” I paused. “But if you ever want a third…”

“Xavier.” Sloane shoved at my chest, her laugh mingling with mine. “You’re terrible.”

“That’s what you love about me.”

“It is.” She sighed. “I have questionable taste.”

“I would take offense to that if I weren’t so confident in my good looks and dashing personality.” I pressed my lips to hers. “And if I didn’t love you so much.”

Sloane’s face softened.

We sounded like one of those cheesy couples she loved to lambast in movies, but I didn’t care, and judging by the way she pressed closer to me, neither did she.

We didn’t speak again before she drifted off. My eyes were getting heavy too, but I forced myself to stay awake a while later so I could soak in the moment—my arms around Sloane, her head against my shoulder, the rhythm of our breaths rising and falling in unison.

And as my gaze traced the delicate fan of her lashes and the content curve of her lips, there was only one word running through my head.

Mine.