Ruined Sinner by Becker Gray

Chapter Seven

Aurora

Once dinner ended, we began to drift outside to our cars. I followed behind slowly, hoping to put some distance between myself and the prying eyes. Well, the prying eyes that weren’t part of my security team.

During school hours, the detail simply hovered on the periphery of the classroom buildings, but in the evenings they liked to know exactly where I was. I was used to skirting their watchful eyes and flouncing off whenever I felt like it, but I’d stopped most of that after New Year’s Day.

After New Year’s, I’d learned my lesson.

As we reached the door, my detail at a discreet distance behind me, Phin took my hand.

Heat flushed my skin, my mouth was full of sawdust, and my belly was full of butterflies threatening to take over. Why was I so nervous? This was just Phin. And I could own him.

“No one is around to see this. You can stop pretending.”

He wasn’t buying my brush off though. He leaned in and his lips tickled my ear as he murmured, “It’s time to settle up, princess.”

I hated the jolt of heat that arrowed straight to my core at that idea, and I blamed him for it. It wasn’t enough that he looked unfairly good tonight, with his uniform shirt rolled up to expose his lean, muscled forearms, and his tie all loose and his top button unbuttoned so I could see the base of his strong throat. No, he’d had to play the part of obsessed boyfriend perfectly. Dragging me into his lap, stroking fingers up and down my arms.

Ghosting his lips over the nape of my neck.

And now I was all wound up, my cheeks flushed, my pulse running fast, my knickers already damp. I hated that he still had this power over me, even after two years of him being an unmitigated knobhead.

I took a deep breath, trying to do whatever it was boys said they did to get control of their boners. Think of sports? Silently recite the names of American presidents in order? Think of their grandmothers?

Aha. Grandmothers. Which made me think of mine, and then my mother, and then Brantley Nichols.

Shudder.

Okay, so I just had to remember that this was a transaction, and that was all it was. A transaction to keep me away from Brantley Nichols, and it didn’t matter if my clit pinged an SOS every time Phin so much as looked at me. It also didn’t matter that the thought of settling up, as he put it, made me want to tear off his clothes and mount him right there in a restaurant parking lot.

I would make sure that everything between us stayed exactly like it should, a mutually beneficial deal. He would keep me unavailable as a bride for Brantley, and I would get him off. I’d screwed boys before—boys I barely remembered the names of sometimes—and I could do this. It was the exact same thing.

Right?

I turned and gave Phin what I hoped was a very efficient, very businesslike nod. “I’ll meet you in your room in twenty minutes, then.”

I expected a smile from him, maybe even one of those lazy, sensual ones that always curled my toes. But instead I got an intense flash of those caramel-brown eyes as they hooded.

“Twenty minutes after we get back,” he said, and his voice was so much more heated than usual, almost…commanding. A shiver went through me just to hear it, and it wasn’t a shiver of anger or fear, even though it should have been of irritation at least, because no one commanded me, not even the literal monarchs in my life.

But when Phin spoke like that, like he would come find me if I wasn’t where I said I would be…

Ohhh, it felt good. Almost good enough to forget that Phin was the ultimate “any girl will do” kind of playboy.

I gave him another nod, hoping the dark evening hid the worst of my flushing, and then I practically fled to the car that would take me back to Pembroke Prep.

*     *     *

Time to settleup.

Yep, I was officially a monster girl for being turned on by that. My quick shower did nothing to settle my hormones and neither did the ten minutes I spent washing every speck of makeup off my face and picking out the most boring pajamas I owned. I didn’t want Phin to think that I cared about impressing him. Or that this was in any way a real hookup.

I would march in there, give him a brisk hand job, and march right back out without being affected in the least.

I wouldn’t be turned on, I wouldn’t come, I would simply fulfill the letter of the bargain we’d struck. He could get off, and I could keep the family from strong-arming me into a feudal betrothal or whatever.

Except as I knocked lightly on Phin’s window—thankfully his room was on the ground floor, as evading my security team took a small amount of skullduggery involving avoiding the hallways—I felt frissons of excitement ripple through me. And as he swung the window open with that same commanding expression on his normally easygoing features, lust spiked my blood and sent heat everywhere that mattered, to my breasts and my belly and my lips and my core.

His room was nearly dark except for one small lamp on his desk, and he looked a little forbidding with shadows gathering along his eyelashes and under the curve of his full lower lip. He’d changed into drawstring pants and nothing else, and the shadows did their work there too, showing off his tightly etched abs and the firm muscles of his broad chest. He had the flat navel and cut lines around his hips of a male model, but it was the trail of dark hair leading into his low-slung waistband that had me forgetting how to breathe.

“Hi,” I whispered, but he didn’t say hi back. Instead he scooped me off the inner ledge of his window like I weighed nothing and carried me over to his bed. His biceps were hard against my back, and when my hands instinctively reached up to wrap around his neck, I felt the rounded swell of his shoulders and the subtle shift of his muscles as he set me on my feet next to his bed.

We didn’t speak for a moment, only stared at each other, and I couldn’t help but wonder… What if everything had gone differently that night? If he hadn’t hooked up with Lea at Sera’s party and then proceeded to fuck his way through the eastern seaboard, would I have been here tonight in his room anyway? As his girlfriend for real?

The thought unsettled me—or maybe it was feeling how hard my heart twisted when I thought of an alternate universe where Phin was mine to kiss and touch without a fucked-up bargain between us.

A fucked-up bargain that was somehow extremely hot to me.

I needed more therapy ASAP.

But for the here and now, the safest thing to do would be to get this over with. And I was confident I could indeed get this over with. It was my experience that guys never lasted long once you got your fingers around their meat puppets, and I could be done in a few quick strokes.

But when I reached for the waistband of Phin’s drawstring pants, he caught my wrist. And fuck if there wasn’t something weirdly hot about him holding me like that, looking down with that stern, unsmiling expression, like I was the naughty girl caught reaching into the cookie jar.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked.

I stared up at him. “Hello? I’m settling up?”

“So you think that if you come here and jerk me off real fast, that will get you back in the black with me?” His lip curled the slightest bit. It was so sinister, so unlike his normal, easygoing, yacht club energy, and I could feel my blood flow divert right to my pussy at the sight of it. “No, sweetheart. You’re going to settle up my way.”

I tried to regain the upper hand. “You want me to blow you? Fine. I don’t mind.”

Don’t mind was an understatement, actually, because I was already itching to tear his bottoms off so I could see his cock. And the idea of driving him wild with my tongue…

Well. I didn’t mind that idea at all.

He smirked at me, letting go of my wrist to put his hands on my shoulders and push me down. I was expecting to land on my knees with that smirk and the peremptory push down, but instead, my arse hit the bed and then his knees hit the floor.

He was tall enough that we were still at eye level—not that his eyes were on mine at the moment. He was currently looking at my fuzzy Winnie the Pooh pajama shorts like they were a thong made of lubricant and nothing else.

“I’ve been thinking of this for days,” he growled, and then he pushed my knees apart and pressed his face to my fuzzy-pajama-covered pussy.

“Phin!” I exclaimed, my legs trying to close on pure instinct. He let them, but the look on his face when he looked at me was nothing but animal hunger.

“This is what I want,” he said darkly. “Your cunt, open for my mouth. I want to taste you.”

His words tumbled through me, lighting things on fire as they went, and I abruptly found I couldn’t breathe again.

“Only taste?” I said, and the words sounded like they were squeezed out of me.

His fingers curled around the waistband of my shorts. “No. Not only taste.”

I didn’t stop him from pulling the shorts farther down, or from working them over my backside and down my thighs until they were off entirely, along with my knickers. Why wasn’t I stopping him? This wasn’t the plan!

But—but I’d made the plan before I’d known he was going to be shirtless and I was going to see that trail of hair on the hard lower planes of his stomach. Before I’d known that his voice was going to sound like that, that he was going to look at my body like that. And now the plan felt very, very inadequate in the face of this moment.

“What else do you want to do?” I managed to ask as he parted my legs again.

And oh, the way he looked at my exposed pussy. Like it was the only thing in the world he wanted.

“I want to know every part of you—every goddamn part—and then I want to feel you come against my mouth. Do you know how long I’ve waited for that? To feel you come—to hear it, see it, taste it? It’s all I’ve thought about for years. It’s what I imagine at night as I fall asleep, it’s what I wake up dreaming about, right before I come all over my belly without even touching myself.”

I stared down at him, lips parted, having no idea what to say to that. It was so filthy and somehow even more than filthy too. Like his words were as much the sex as his fingers and mouth would be.

“So this is how you pay me back,” he said. “I get to taste the pussy you’ve kept from me. I get to make you come. Yes?”

I should say no. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. This wasn’t the plan I’d had in my mind. I was already dangerously attracted to Phin, and then if I let him make me come like I’d fantasized about a million times… How would I be able to resist the undertow then?

All it took two years ago was a single kiss at someone else’s house for me to fall in love. I worried that an orgasm on his bed might seal my fate for good.

But no, that was ridiculous, wasn’t it? It was just oral! I’d done that before and more. People did oral all the time!

And anyway, I wasn’t that starry-eyed sixteen-year-old girl anymore. In the years since that kiss, I’d shed any last vestige of the pretty princess people thought they could walk all over. I’d spent those two years partying, shagging, and taking shit from no one.

I could take this orgasm without getting attached, obviously. That would be so easy, so laughably easy. I was going to laugh about this earlier indecision later on. I knew I was, because of course Phin could fuck me with his mouth and I wouldn’t care one way or the other. In fact, he was the fool for wanting to settle up in a way that got me off and not him.

“Yes,” I said. The minute I spoke, he was shoving my legs even wider apart and then his face was against my center as he gave it a long, open-mouthed kiss.

At the first press of his firm, full lips, I recognized my earlier delusion about not being affected for what it was. And then with the first stroke of his tongue, I realized that I didn’t care.

Some things were worth the risk.

“Oh fuck,” I groaned as he began exploring me in earnest. He tongued his way from the very top to the very bottom, his massive hands clamped around my thighs to hold me in place as he feasted on me. “Oh my God, Phin, what the fuck, oh my God…”

He glanced up from between my legs, his eyes half-lidded and his mouth wet with me. “Everything okay up there, princess?”

“Obviously,” I breathed, trying to sound like a badass and instead sounding utterly ravished.

“Good,” he said, and with him looking up like this, I could see down his shirtless chest and stomach to where a giant erection tented his pajama pants. “Because I never want to stop eating your pussy.”

He didn’t even seem like he was able to stop long enough to look at it. He’d pull back and spread me apart with his thumbs, his eyes hot on the very center of me, and then a ragged groan would tear out of his throat, and he’d be back against me again, licking me and kissing me as if even those few seconds away were pure agony.

And he didn’t stop at my clit or at my pussy—not at all. He went everywhere, teasing his tongue against my tight, pleated rim until I was chanting his name aloud.

My nipples had gone as hard as little bullets under my sports bra, and I could feel trembles gathering everywhere in my body—my arms and belly and thighs. It was like nothing I’d ever felt before, the combination of slick kisses and then the delicate way he sucked on my clit. The one other time I’d tried this, the guy had basically done all but hold his nose before he went in, trying to stab his fingers into me like that would make me come faster. I’d kicked him off the premises, so to speak, allowed him to watch as I got myself off, and then I was out of his dorm as fast as I could crawl out the window.

And then here was Phin, acting like I was some sort of villain for keeping my pussy away from his mouth for so long, already bringing me to a peak and his cock leaving a giant wet spot on his drawstring pants because he was so turned on.

It turned me on, the way he was so fucking into it, his shoulders hunched between my thighs, his fingertips pressing into my skin to keep me still, his dark head bent over his work. And his mouth—fuck!

Maybe that’s why our kiss two years ago had knocked me flat on my arse. No one kissed like Phineas Yates, whether it was a kiss on the mouth or…elsewhere.

“I want my fingers inside you,” Phin breathed against my pussy. “I want to feel inside.”

“Okay,” I murmured, and then he did it, he slid a long finger inside me, and he did it perfectly, with teases and sweet strokes, until he was all the way sheathed.

He didn’t stab or rapid-jab or do any of the bullshit guys seem to think people with vaginas want. He filled me, followed the curves of my body, and then gently pressed against a place that had me panting. He worked my pleasure like my body was his canvas and he was the singular artist of our time. And before long, I was rocking against his mouth with my hand sunk into his thick hair, about to give him the orgasm that would make us even. Which meant—wait—who was using whom right now?

Does it even matter?

Phin growled as I tightened around his finger and squirmed even harder.

“Give it, princess. You’ve wasted two years of my time, two years when I could have been eating this every night. Give it to me.”

His perfect lips and velvet tongue returned to my skin, and then with a vicious suck, I was there.

Pleasure detonated behind my clit, a searing knot of release which rolled outward in shock wave after shock wave. I kept my hand in his hair and held his face hard to my body as I rode out the bliss, panting his name over and over again as my pussy contracted around his finger and tingles peppered my lips and toes and scalp.

It felt like it took forever, like Phin had invented some kind of mobius strip orgasm that went on and on and on, but eventually it subsided, like waves upon a warm shore. I slumped back onto his bed, a boneless lump.

Phin had just eaten my pussy like it was his last meal.

And it was worth the stupid jumps my heart gave as I thought of his expression as he ate me, of his possessive voice and even more possessive hands.

Phin wiped his mouth with his forearm and stood up, but he didn’t come sit on the bed with me. Instead, he leaned back against his desk, his eyes nearly black in the low light of the room, his erection obscenely visible in his pants.

It must have been my stupid, jumping heart that made me speak just then. “Come here,” I whispered.

His fingers curled around the edge of the desk. Hard enough for the knuckles to turn white. But he didn’t move.

“We’re even for now,” he said roughly. “You can go.”

“But…”

“Aurora,” he bit out. “Just go. I can take care of myself. God knows I’ve managed without you before.”

He meant for the words to drive me away, but they hurt too, an arrow deep into the tender flesh which had just been swoonily beating for him.

“That’s right,” I said, trying to cover the hurt with acid like I always did. “No one’s missed how well you’ve been managing your needs without me.”

His eyes glittered, but he said nothing. Nothing at all. Which made me feel like the ridiculous one for being wounded by his wanton lifestyle. For feeling abruptly jealous of all the people he’d learned those mind-blowing oral skills on.

For feeling suddenly insecure that he didn’t want to finish with me.

I shoved to my feet and grabbed my shorts and knickers.

Fuck! No one had ever told me how horrendously embarrassing it was to try to dress with angry but regal dignity! Goddammit!

I managed to get clothed and shove my feet into the Vans that I’d scribbled over with all my favorite song lyrics, and then I stalked to the window. “Next time you want to settle up,” I hissed, opening the window, “I can save us both some trouble and help you find one of those girls who’ve helped you manage. And then you can settle up with her instead.”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Phin said. His voice was soft, but oh-so dangerous, and when I looked back at him, he was running his tongue along his lower lip. Licking me off his lower lip. “You’ll be the one I settle up with; otherwise, you’ll be in the red. And I’d so hate to come collect.”

My disloyal clit pulsed at his silky threat, but I ignored it.

“We’ll see,” I said, climbing the ledge to go back outside.

“If you don’t uphold your end of the bargain, Aurora, then I’m afraid I can’t uphold mine. And I think you need me a lot more than I need you.”

“Bugger off,” I spat, dropping down onto the soft grass below his window. But when I looked back at him, he was smiling at me.

He was smiling because he knew that I knew the truth.

That he was right.