Sinner (The Hades Squad #1)

by Jianne Carlo

  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 squirmed; his dick thickened. He tightened his hold on her silky locks, bringing her face up. “I'm going to kiss us both to orgasm. You move, and you'll pay later.”

  He gave her a little shake and demanded, “Got that?”

  “I want to move,” she croaked, her voice a mere thought, barely audible. Licking his jaw, she fixed her black eyes on his, and pled, “Please?”

  “Uh-uh.” The grunt was all he could manage. He shifted, widening his thighs, and clamped a leg over each one of hers, bearing down hard so she couldn't move.

  Onyx brows arched, and she whimpered.

  The delicious sound pushed him over the edge. He angled her hips and thrust deep and hard, lids lowering to half-mast as sheer ecstasy pumped blood to his groin to a level near pain.

  She whimpered again, that back-of-the-throat, husky sound she'd made last night. Her eyes took on a faraway, dreamy glaze; her lips were swollen and wet, plump and inviting, and he couldn't resist.

  He swooped in and captured her mouth, his tongue plunging in, tasting her essence, licking her teeth, learning all her hot spots. She gasped, her breath coating warmth over the insides of his cheek. He bit down on her tongue, letting her know he was in charge.

  Her whimpers reverberated in his mouth; she turned relentless, kissing him back, touching her tongue to his, rolling over and around. Nipping her again, he loosened his hold on her ass, and she wriggled, her pussy teasing his dick.

  Linc smacked her butt hard, but before he could grip her sweet cheeks again, she ground down on him. Her pussy fastened around his dick, the clenching and convulsing walls hotter than hell, creaming him; the hairs on his balls bristled and prickled.

  “Come,” he growled the words into her mouth and snagged her bottom lip between his teeth.

  Destiny fucking came.

  Blizzard whiteness couldn't blind him more than the milking of her pussy.

  Explosion after explosion racked shudders through her body and his. The aftershocks squeezed him into another spurt; he suckled her lips through it, teasing her with half kisses, withholding his tongue until she spasmed, again wringing more cum from his dick.

  Iron discipline shattered, brain unable to function, Linc stroked her spine and pulled the sheets over her shoulders. She melted into him like a purring kitten, dozing and murmuring in her sleep, and he loved it—loved the way she responded to him, loved that she'd come on his command from day one.

  Day one?

  He was far gone. Technically they hadn't even entered day two.

  Linc's stomach rumbled, and an image of bacon, hash browns, fried eggs, and toast had his mouth watering the way no gourmet spread ever had. Still half-hard, he withdrew, and a smile tugged at his lips when her vagina resisted his dick's departure.

  He kissed her forehead and shifted her head onto the pillow. Her lids rose slowly, and she peered at him. “Mmm?”

  “Stay put,” he whispered. “I'll be right back.”

  “Mmm.” Her eyelids closed, and she turned on her side, both hands under her cheek, raven locks fanning the white linen.

  She looked like a little princess, his princess.

  He sent a thank-you to whoever'd decided to get a gas water heater for the cabin, strode into the bathroom, flushed the used condom, filled a bowl with warm water, collected hand and face towels, and ambled back to the bedroom. After setting the round pottery on the bedside table, he dampened the square material and wrung it dry, all the while studying his Destiny's relaxed, sated pose.

  “Turn over, Destiny,” he commanded, one hand applying a slight pressure to her smooth shoulder.

  “Mmm?” One eye opened in response to his order.

  When he cupped the warm terry over her folds, her brows did a rocket climb. She rose onto her forearms, dark eyes widening as she stared at the towel. “What?”

  Her thighs squeezed his hand, and Linc grinned and demanded, “Spread, Destiny. You need a wash.”

  A blush a few shades lighter than a ruby rose blossomed over every delicious inch of her body.

  “Stop. I can do that myself.”

  “Uh-uh.” He shook his head and repeated his order. “Get used to this. This is my job from now on.” Patting her inky pubic curls, he tilted his head and imagined her swollen pussy lips all bare. “Ever had a Brazilian?”

  “Whaaat?” she sputtered, slapping at his hand.

  “Destiny, lie back and relax,” he ordered when she fidgeted. Laying a palm on her belly, he pushed her into a supine position. “You already have a penalty coming f
or moving when I told you not to. Don't add another.”

  She froze, arms planted at her sides. “Penalty?”

  “Yep. I'm thinking a deep-throat session.” He winked and broke into a broad smile when her eyes crossed and her throat worked.

  “Or a spanking? Maybe some light bondage?”

  Her eyes trailed his hand as he cleaned her; Linc noted the slight dilation of her pupils, the hitch in her even breathing.

  She was curious all right, his little kitten. Maybe the next few days would go easier than he'd first calculated.

  “How much battery time on your laptop?” He wanted her off balance for their remaining time in the cabin, wanted her following his lead.

  She blinked and levered onto her elbows. “Pardon me?”

  He suppressed a smile and lightly smoothed the damp cloth over her folds.

  You are too easily distracted, Baby Doll.

  Pursuing his decided strategy, he reiterated. “Your laptop, how much battery time?”

  “Why do you want to know?” A frown marred the perfection of her smooth forehead. “You want to email someone?”

  “Nah. So what, nine, ten hours?” he asked, deliberately doubling the normal PC battery time.

  “Of course not. Three. I've never heard of a ten-hour battery for any laptop.” An indignant pout commanded her mouth.

  Adorable.

  Linc threw the damp towel into the bowl and nudged her thighs wider apart. Her legs fell open, and she didn't even look down when he began drying her damp flesh.

  “I'll give you a choice of penalty since it's your first offense.” Linc caught her fluttering fingers with one hand, brought her palm to his mouth, and licked the circumference. He studied her expression with a sideways glance. “Ten spanks or watching Deep Throat together and trying out one of the scenes?”

  She ducked her head.

  He dropped the towel and cupped her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.

  “I can't tell if you're serious or not,” she whispered.

  “Dead serious, Destiny Driven. But this time I'll choose for you. Deep Throat. I checked the time on it earlier, one hour. Maybe we'll do The Devil in Miss Jones after.”

  She shuttered her eyes and bit her lip.

  “What are you thinking, Destiny?”

  “Have you done all of that before?” One eyetooth worried her bottom lip. Her gaze dropped to his chest, and her breasts halted their rising and falling.

  “All of what? Watched porn? Yeah. Long ago, before I started getting any action.” Deliberately changing the subject, he asked, “Are you hungry? I'm starving. You didn't find any bacon in that freezer, did you?”

  “Bacon?” Opulent sooty lashes fluttered and settled a tad below her brows.

  “Hmm. I'm thinking I'll whip up hash browns, bacon, eggs, and toast.”

  “Are you trying to throw me off subject deliberately?” Lips settling into a sullen slant, she lifted her chin.

  “What do you think?” Lincoln couldn't prevent the broad smile capturing his mouth. Smart as a whip, his Destiny; she'd keep him on his toes.

  “Did you study interrogation techniques? I think I'm being led down a garden path, and I'm waiting for the gate to slam in my face.” She sat up yoga-style, arms folded, making her breasts mound and plump.

  Linc's dick twitched.

  “No, there wasn't any bacon, but I did see a small ham. And yes, I am hungry. I'll make eggs Benedict. I saw a bag of English muffins.” Legs sliding to one side, she shot him a don't-argue-with-me glare.

  Linc knew when to retreat. He flashed her what his mom called his boyish-devil grin. “I thought you'd never offer. Hmm, I don't want grease spitting on that luscious bod of yours. Guess you can wear a T-shirt today. No pantie.”

  “You are not my lord and master.” She stood, eyes narrowed, jaw clenched, but had to crane her neck to meet his gaze.

  Not yet. Soon.

  She stomped over to the dresser and squinted at him over one shoulder. “I'll wear a pantie if I so decide.”

  He fought a victorious smile and traced the curve of her ass as she bent over. Linc choked back a groan when his aching balls tightened, and he resolved to have her on her hands and knees next fuck—a long, long doggie-style screwing.

  Destiny rummaged through her clothes, and she mumbled under her breath, something about chauvinistic paratroopers and pear trees.

  Christ, she's adorable. Mom's gonna love her to death.

  Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Where the hell did that come from?

  Mouth suddenly drier than the Sahara, he did an about-face, balled his fists, and stalked to the main cabin. Leaning on the cool wooden wall, he gulped in oxygen.

  Less than a minute later, Destiny crept into the room wearing a T-shirt emblazoned with the words BITE ME, which fell to an inch above her thighs, winking a peek-a-boo temptation with each step she took. Linc battled the urge to swoop her into his arms. He hated not being able to carry her.

  Their gazes met.

  She stumbled, and he surrendered, taking two extra-long strides and hooking her knees with one arm.

  “I didn't put on the pantie.” She rested her palms on his chest and peeked up at him.

  “Fuck, Destiny.” He grunted into the sweet spot between shoulder and neck. “What am I going to do with you?”

  “Are you mad at me?”

  He hugged her closer. The slight tremble in her voice sent his heart into a somersault. Before he could answer, a booming male voice crackled through static noise. “Satan to Sinner. Come in, Sinner.”

  “Cripes!” she yelped and just about climbed up to his neck, looping her arms around his head, all the while darting wide-eyed glances around the room.

  He tightened his hold on her and crooned, “It's just the radio. No need to be scared.”

  “Radio?”

  The pulse at her throat jumped faster, and she stared into his eyes.

  “I'd never let anyone hurt you. Not even me, Destiny. Got that?”

  Her gaze didn't waver, but she didn't look convinced.

  “Destiny?”

  The rigid muscles in her back loosened; a delicate pink tongue snaked across her parted lips. She nodded.

  Linc hadn't realized he'd stopped breathing until she gave that tiny nod.

  “Satan to Sinner. Come in, damn it. Where the fuck are you?”

  “I have to answer that. My GPS malfunctioned, and they're probably getting ready to send out a search party. Shit, if I'd have answered Satan when he radioed earlier, we—” Linc clamped his lips together, swallowing the words…could've gotten out of here yesterday. No way he'd ever regret not answering Satan. Being stuck in this cabin with Destiny had been fated. And then it hit him.

  This is Keechum, Demon's new home away from home.

  “Oh.” She blinked a couple of times. “Sinner?”

  “I'll explain later. We okay?”

  She dipped her chin again, and he couldn't resist kissing the tip of her nose.

  Linc glanced down at her while he walked across the room. The solemn expression she wore tickled the little devil riding his shoulder. “Thank you for not wearing panties, Destiny.”

  A rosy stain did a frenzied salsa from her collarbone to her forehead. “It wasn’t because you ordered me not to.”

  He ignored her petulant grumble, dropped a kiss on her hairline and watched her eyes cross when she tried to keep his face in focus. She felt warm and soft in all the right places, and she suited him to a tee.

  “How're you feeling? Sore?”

  “I wouldn't know.” She folded her arms. “If I could actually walk a couple of steps, maybe I could test things. Do you have something against panties?”

  “Nope, just don't want you wearing any when we're alone. I prefer unfettered access. See?” He winked when she scowled, and he kneaded one ass cheek. “All your bounty laid out for me.”

  “Why won't you put me down?”

  “I like having you right here.” He snagged her bottom li
p between his teeth. “You smell good. You feel great. I'll let you cook breakfast after I talk to Satan. How's that? Now cuddle up while I get him on the line.”

  Linc used his foot to drag the stool to the right of the chest under the small built-in desk and then sat. He tucked her head under his chin, picked up a small navy radio, and stabbed Open Call. Waves of static coasted around the small room.

  “Sinner calling Satan. Come in, Satan.”

  A long beep, then another, a series of high-pitched squeaks, the sound of a snarled expletive. “SITREP, Sinner. You okay?”

  “No injuries. Holed up at Keechum. No worries.”

  “Keechum? I'm guessing you're not in a hurry to be found.”

  Why in fucking hell did Satan have that devil in his voice?

  “Spill.”

  “Demon loaned Keechum to a certain luscious editor. I'm guessing you're sinning your way to Hades.” A snicker followed by a snorted guffaw broke over the airways.

  “Stand down, Satan.” Linc tried to grab Destiny before she squirmed off his lap, but she batted his hand away and snapped, “Twit. Egotistical maniac.”

  Certain Satan had earned the monikers and not him, Linc cut her a glance. She seemed totally unaware of her near nudity or the chill in the room; hands planted on hips, she glared at the radio he gripped.

  “By the way, the rest of the squad's on location.”

  What in fucking hell had happened between Destiny and Satan?

  Adding his own scowl to the Motorola unit in his hand, he asked, “Fire?”

  “Not enough moisture coming down and the wind speed's picking up.” A two-second pause. Lincoln gritted his teeth as a whispered conversation he couldn't make out wove in and out of the static. “Lucifer reckons two days before it's contained.”

  “Weather?”

  Out of the corner of one eye, he spied Destiny's bare foot tapping on the wooden floor.

  “Lull's expected to last another hour. No break then for two days.”

  He hated having his squad fighting a blaze without him. Adolescent friendship cemented by serving on the same team since their first deployment, he and Satan, aka Lorcan McGuillycuddy, didn't need words to communicate. Satan's retirement to Healy a year ago hadn't changed that fact. He hadn't begun to voice the next question before Satan spoke.