Chapter 13 The taste of Sin
Serena
There were photos of me scattered across the bed like careless confessions.
One caught me in the lavender silk nightie they’d slipped over my unconscious body while I was asleep, the hem ridden high on my thighs.
My legs were tangled in sheets, and my mouth was parted in the deepest, most trusting sleep I’d ever had.
Another showed me mid-struggle, my back arched off the mattress, arms half-raised as if fighting the fabric being pulled over my head, my lips pouting in sleepy protest.
The angle was intimate, almost reverent, like whoever held the camera had been inches away, breathing the same air, memorizing every curve and sigh.
I stared at them, heat crawling up my neck. They weren’t pornographic. They were possessive. Proof that even in my most vulnerable, unguarded moments, I’d belonged to them.
“See something you like?”
The deep rumble came from behind me. I whirled so fast my vision blurred for a second. Holy Mary mother of Jesus.
Sin stood in the center of the room, shirtless, with bloody bandages wrapped around his knuckles.
He looked like he'd gotten into a fistfight, but with who?
His eyes were black with something between rage and raw hunger. There was no smirk or teasing.
Just that lethal stillness he got when he was truly pissed.
Uh-oh.
I swallowed. “Why are there pictures of me in your bedroom? You took photos of me while you and Saint were in bed with me. Without my consent.”
He didn’t flinch. “I wanted to capture the moment.” His voice was hard as steel. “Now why the fuck are you here? This place is out of bounds. You should know that by now.”
“As opposed to taking indecent photos of me?” I shot back.
He took one slow step forward. “You’re mine, Serena. They’re not indecent if you’re mine.”
He kept advancing, every step eating up the distance between us.
I needed to distract him or something. Things would spiral fast if I didn't say something.
“Your aunt has seen them,” I hissed, retreating until my back hit the edge of the desk I didn't even know was right behind me. “She told me. I don’t understand this obsession with me, but you have to stop. Two men cannot have one woman.”
He didn’t break stride. “Who said so?”
“Does anyone have to say it?” My voice cracked on the last word. “It’s forbidden. Society. Morality. Basic fucking decency.”
Sin stopped inches from me, towering, heat radiating off his bare skin. “My brother and I always share, Serena.”
“I’m not a set of mathematical oranges two twin brothers have to divide between themselves. I will fight both of you if I have to.”
His eyes darkened further, and one hand lifted to cup the side of my face, his thumb brushing my cheekbone.
The gentleness clashed violently with the storm in his expression.
“Who gave you the passkey to my room?” he asked quietly, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper that made my thighs clench despite myself.
I lifted my chin, refusing to look away. “Does it matter? I’m here. And I’ve seen everything.”
His thumb traced lower, skimming my lower lip. “You shouldn’t have come in here alone.”
“Too late.”
He leaned in until his mouth was a breath from mine. “You think you can just walk into my sanctuary, see how deep this goes, and walk out unchanged?”
I made a tsk-tsk sound. “I’m not afraid of you.”
“Liar,” he murmured. His free hand slid to my waist, his fingers digging in just enough to pin me against the desk. “You’re trembling.”
“I’m angry.” I breathed.
“You’re wet.”
Heat flooded my face, and lower. Damn him.
“And one more thing,” Sin growled, “you stink like raw meat.”
Before I could snap back, he bent at the waist and swung me over his broad shoulder like I was a sack of potatoes.
My world flipped upside down, blood rushing to my head, my nightie riding up to expose everything.
“Oh my loving holy Mary!” I shrieked, pounding uselessly on his back with both fists. “Put me down, you bastard!”
His arm banded tight under my ass, his forearm burning hot against my bare skin. Every step he took jolted me, the friction of his shoulder against my stomach making me gasp despite the fury.
He carried me straight into the attached bathroom and didn’t stop. He stepped into the cubicle fully clothed (well, sweatpants-clad), cranked the handle, and set me directly under the rainfall showerhead.
Ice-cold water hit me like a slap on my cheek. I was drenched in seconds, the silk material plastering to every curve, transparent now and clinging obscenely.
“Let me go!” I tried to shove past him, but he pinned me to the tiled wall with his body, stepping fully under the spray himself.
Water streamed down his chest, tracing every ridge of muscle, darkening his sweatpants until they molded to him like a second skin.
“No,” he said flatly. “I need to get the fucking meat smell off you.”
He grabbed my wrists in one massive hand and yanked them above my head, pinning them to the wall. His free hand braced beside my face, caging me completely.
“I wouldn’t smell like meat if your mother hadn’t set me up!” I spat, twisting. “Let me go, Sin!”
“Stop. Moving. Serena.”
“Or what? Let me—”
Something snapped in his eyes. He slammed his body flush against mine, pressing me flat to the wall. His hand wrapped around my throat and he squeezed. Hard enough to make my pulse thunder under his palm, just enough to make stars dance at the edges of my vision.
I hated how much I loved it.
My hips arched instinctively, pressing my soaked front to his bare chest. My nipples, hard from cold water and raw need, scraped against his skin. A low moan slipped out before I could stop it.
“You bring out the worst in me, Serena,” he rasped.
“Fuck you!”
Sin gave me a twisted smile. Why did he look so hot even when he was behaving like a villain?
“You should have just said so.”
I opened my mouth for a retort, but he moved faster. His fingers hooked the already-torn neckline of the nightie and ripped it straight down to the hem in one brutal yank.
The silk shredded like paper, baring me completely, wet, flushed, and trembling under the spray.
Before I could draw breath to curse him, his mouth crashed onto mine.