Sinning in Vegas: (Vegas Morellis, #2)

by Sam Mariano

  I sigh, my stupid body responding to my own damned thoughts. Fuck, I like when he’s dangerous.

  I should try to stop him, though. Even if my heart feels like it belongs to him, even if my body is fully on board, I’m not his to play with and this should not happen. If Rafe ever found out about this… God, it makes me sick thinking about it.

  This is a dangerous fucking game Sin is playing, if that’s what this is. High stakes doesn’t even begin to cover it.

  “Now, get on your knees, Laurel.”

  32

  Laurel

  I look down at the pillow, then lower myself until I’m on the floor in front of him. It’s been so long—too long—since I’ve been down here, but I take a moment and close my eyes, keeping my head bowed.

  “What do you want, Laurel?” he asks me.

  I don’t know the right answer. This position fucks with my head, and I don’t know what’s going to happen when I open my eyes and look up at him. I remember what happened before. I also remember his instructions though, so with my head down and my voice low, I tell him, “I don’t want this.”

  There’s light approval in his tone. “That’s right, you don’t. But I want you to pretend you do. I want you to put on a good fucking performance, Laurel. I want to feel like you’re my little whore, hungry for my cock. I want to feel like you crave me. Like you want to fucking devour me.” Reaching a hand down and running it along my jaw, he ignores the way I lean into it. “You convince me and I won’t hurt you. Got it?”

  I nod my head one more time.

  I shouldn’t. I should say “plutonium” and see what happens. I’m fairly certain this would stop. I’m fairly certain he would leave. He would know I really do want this to stop, so he would leave me here kneeling for no one, and we would never have to talk about this again.

  But there’s that sliver of a chance he wouldn’t stop, and then this would turn into something scarier than what it is right now.

  Right now it’s just a blow job. I can handle a blow job. Never given one at gunpoint before, but hell, there’s a first time for everything.

  I adjust my position on the pillow and take a calming breath before I tilt my head back to look up at Sin.

  Subservience washes over me. It’s the most natural feeling in the world, and when I look up at him like this, it flows through me in the most harmonious wave. It feels right, even though this is wrong on so many levels. My brain hides under the shelter of his words, of the violent threats, the cold steel he actually pressed against my forehead. He beats people bloody and kills those who don’t cooperate for a living; it’s not outside the realm of possibility that he’s being real with me right now. I don’t think he is, but it can’t be ruled out entirely.

  “Unbuckle my belt,” he commands.

  I don’t hesitate. I reach for the black belt around his hips, remembering how he used to watch me as he took it off every night before bed. Remembering the little hook in our room where he hung them, on the wall he backed me up against the night he broke my heart. That mended heart aches now, as I draw the leather through the frame and start on his button. I miss this man and he’s standing right here. I always miss him when he’s standing right here. If he’s doing what I think he’s doing, this isn’t enough. A taste of him, a single hit, that will only leave me wanting more. Bringing to life such a dangerous fantasy will only spawn more and lead to more emotional torture as I long for things I can’t have.

  I swallow as I drag his zipper down and look up at him. He’s watching my every move, so his attentive gaze meets mine.

  “Why are you doing this, Sin?”

  He drags his thumb across my lower lip. “Because I need a pair of plump lips wrapped around my dick, and only yours will do.”

  I anchor my hands on his hips and lean my head against his pelvis, hugging him, even while his hardness nudges my cheek. “This is so dangerous,” I whisper.

  “Then make it worth the risk,” he says, simply.

  I draw in a breath and try not to think. There are so many horrible things I could think about right now, but I shove all of them down inside myself as I drag down Sin’s slacks and underwear. His cock springs free and I sigh, gripping it in my hand and nuzzling the side of it with my face.

  God, I’ve missed you.

  If this is real and not the performance I expect it is, I’m going to look back on this moment and feel pretty fucking stupid, but if this is the last moment I ever get to look at Sin and feel like there’s still even a sliver of a chance that he’s not my enemy, I’m going to take it.

  Peace settles over me as I drag my tongue along the underside of his dick. I lick it all the way to the tip, dart my tongue into the little valley there, then use my lips to kiss my way down the side, back toward the base. I want to taste and touch and please every part of him, so I duck my head and catch his balls in my mouth, using one hand to massage them, and my lips to suck.

  “Oh, fuck, Laurel.”

  His fingers glide through the silky strands of my hair. Like old times, he gathers some in his fist.

  “Do you like that?” I ask, before taking them into my mouth again.

  “I do,” he murmurs.

  Since he gave me license to make this convincing, I don’t hold back. “I love your cock, Sin.” I place a kiss to the underside of it, then make a circle with my fingers near the base and pump back and forth. “When I go to sleep at night, I dream about it. I touch myself in the shower. I close my eyes and imagine you’re there behind me.”

  My heart sinks with the truth of that confession, then sinks deeper at the sound of his sigh. That’s not a sound of pleasure. I should stop talking. I don’t want to make him sad. It’s just that he’s given me such a perfect excuse to tell him my deepest, darkest secrets. He’s given me the perfect lie to hide behind so I can tell the truest of truths.

  Since my words are making him sad, I put my mouth to better use. I slide my lips over the tip of him and suck while my fingers keep working him closer to the base. His cock is so long, I have plenty of space to work with. I continue to stroke him as I take more of him into my mouth, moaning with pleasure when his smooth tip brushes the back of my throat.

  “Mm, yes,” he murmurs, running his fingers through my hair.

  I’ve missed you so much. The words I can’t speak seep out of me as I suck him like the air I need to breathe. Blow job is a misnomer when Sin’s is the dick in question; this isn’t a job. This isn’t menial labor. This is a privilege. This beautiful, perfect cock needed attention, and he wanted it from me. Gratitude flows out of me, this feeling I’ve only ever felt when I’m serving this man. I’d forgotten how it felt, forgotten how good this felt. This is the worst kind of torture, because I never want to stop, but it will. When it’s over he’s going to leave me here by myself, and I’m going to miss him more than ever.

  I hear the sound of him placing the gun down gently on the end table, but I don’t care. The gun doesn’t matter anymore. I keep one hand anchored on his hip and keep laboring over his cock, striving to make him feel my hunger for him. It’s like I’m a dying woman, and he’s my life support. Like the world has been rotating without sights or sounds or feelings, and suddenly it’s back all at once.

  I know I’m where I belong, and it kills me because I know I can’t stay here.

  I close my eyes and savor his taste, his feel. I try to commit his noises to memory, so I can replay them again when I’m all alone. Even before this began, I knew it would end. He told me so, when he slyly gave me permission to enjoy this. When he took all the blame onto his shoulders by pulling his gun out and pushing it against my head.

  More gratitude wells up, because while he scared me for a few minutes, he’s the one who’s going to have to watch his back. If Rafe finds out about this, he’ll do more than inflict an uncomfortable breakfast on us—he’ll kill him. He’ll be right to. Sin is supposed to be loyal to Rafe, and maybe I am too, but I have an excuse. Sin gave me one, at the expense of hi
mself. This man is willing to risk his life just to have me one more time.

  I love you.

  Tears spring to my eyes. I try to ignore them, but they well up and spill down my cheeks. I don’t expect Sin to even notice, but the rough pad of his thumb catches the very first tear in its track.

  “Stop,” he says suddenly, pulling my hair to tug me off his dick.

  “No,” I say, looking up at him quickly and shaking my head.

  His brow furrows as he searches my face, trying to decipher what’s wrong with me. Am I crying because of what he’s “making” me do, or is this something else?

  This is definitely something else. I stroke his cock with my hand and lean my face against his toned stomach, kissing every inch I can get my lips on. My face still feels a little wet and cold from the tears, but it doesn’t matter. This is very likely the only chance I’m ever going to get to do this. It can’t be a regular thing, or I won’t have even the flimsy excuse of being afraid if I told him no. Plus, the more this happens, the greater the chances of Rafe finding out. I was already worried Rafe had something horrible planned for Sin; we can’t afford to give him more incentive.

  Sin’s hand moves to the back of my head and he holds my head against him tenderly.

  I stay like that for a moment, just enjoying this half-assed embrace, then I pull back and get back to adoring his cock. I slide my lips over him, then ease him bit by bit until my lips reach his base and I have his whole cock in my throat. Then I look up at him.

  “Fuck,” he says, meeting my gaze.

  I moan around his cock and pleasure fills me as he throws his head back and growls.

  Make me yours.

  He does. He grabs my hair on both sides of my head and holds on like handles while he fucks my mouth. His thrusts are brutal and they make me ache with arousal. I lick up every salty drop of him like it’s the sweetest thing I’ll ever taste. It is; Sin’s pleasure is without question the sweetest thing I’ll ever taste.

  I wish it could last forever, but it can’t. I’m too enthusiastic and it’s been too long.

  At least, I hope it’s been too long. The thought of another woman on her knees for Sin makes me want to die. When he comes down my throat and groans with pleasure, holding my face in place and making sure I get every last drop, it feels like reassurance. Who else could do this for him? Any mouth could take his cum, but no one else would be this grateful for it.

  He pulls out of my mouth and I sit back on my heels.

  “Fuck,” Sin murmurs, pulling his pants back up and zipping them.

  I swallow and look up at him, licking my lips.

  “Fuck,” he mutters again, dropping my gaze.

  I wait for him to get himself together, but as soon as he retrieves his gun, my mind snaps back. Gazing up at him from my spot on the floor, I ask, “Was this real?”

  His tone is detached, like this moment is already a memory for him. “Did it feel real?”

  My tone is quiet and I look down as I admit, “Everything with you feels real.”

  Even if he’s the biggest lie I’ve ever known, that’s the truth. Sin feels like the only real thing in a world full of make believe. He did before and he does now, and if at any point in between I’ve imagined otherwise, I was only fooling myself.

  “No one gets hurt as long as you don’t say anything,” he reminds me. Glancing back down at me, he says, “I didn’t give you a choice in the matter. You have nothing to feel guilty for.”

  Biting down on my bottom lip, I mull it over for a moment before asking, “What if I had said my safe word?”

  “We don’t have a safe word,” he says, simply.

  That’s bullshit. He knows my safe word. He doesn’t want to admit I had an out though, and that answers my question. This wasn’t real. He wanted a blow job, he wanted one from me, and he knew a way to get one.

  I should leave it at that. I can only pretend to be blameless if I leave it at that, but I can’t. I’d rather be the guiltiest whore in all the world than let him walk out of here and stick his dick in someone else.

  “Sin.”

  He looks down at me and cocks an eyebrow expectantly.

  “Please don’t fuck the waitress.”

  He looks down at me for a moment, caught somewhere between tense and tender. His big hand comes close and I lean in once more as he caresses the side of my face. “Don’t worry, Laurel. I won’t fuck the waitress.”

  I wait for him to say more, but he doesn’t. He leaves me here kneeling on the floor and strides away without looking back.

  33

  Laurel

  Sin is at breakfast again the following morning, and I’m so tense, I think I might throw up. I wasn’t suspicious enough last time Rafe made Sin come to breakfast, but afterward it turned out Rafe was watching us.

  Does that mean he’s watching us again?

  Does that mean he knows Sin was here last night?

  He said he was going to up his security, but no one has been here to install anything. I’m here all the time; I would know. Plus, I assume Sin would be smart enough not to come here if he knew Rafe would find out.

  I don’t know, but I can feel guilt all over me. The worst thing is, I shouldn’t have to feel guilty. I shouldn’t be held prisoner by Rafe’s vague threats. If I want to be with Sin, I should be able to. I am not in a relationship with Rafe, I’m just shackled by the genes he contributed to my little wiggle worm. Personally, I could not give less fucks about Rafe’s weird family’s view of how things should be.

  I want to rebel. I want to fight back. I want to be reckless and tell him where he can shove his threats. The problem is, he’s the head of a criminal organization, so it’s safe to assume they are not just threats. It’s safe to assume they are real, and if I piss him off, he may act on them.

  I literally can’t believe I’m in this situation, but since Rafe has me and Sin in the same room together, I’m feeling fearful about how tonight’s going to go. I don’t know if I’m more afraid Rafe will figure out what happened and kill Sin for it, or more afraid Rafe will figure out if he clearly threatens me, gives me a straight ultimatum, I would stay with him indefinitely to ensure Sin’s safety.

  Never thought we’d be here, that’s for sure.

  I’m doing my best to ignore Sin completely, but it’s really hard to ignore him when he’s in the room, and I’m worried ignoring him is too obvious. Thank God he didn’t give me a hickey this time.

  “That’s too bad,” Sin murmurs, his voice catching my ear as I turn to bring their plates to the counter.

  I look up, briefly catching Sin’s eye as I put his plate down in front of him. My heart burns with the memory of last night, looking up at him again, tasting him again. I’m afraid it’s all plain to see in my eyes, so I look away just as quickly and move to put Rafe’s food down in front of him.

  As Rafe cocks his head at me, I realize I’ve already fucked up. Without thinking about it, I gave Sin his food first. I served Rafe second. Dammit, these fucking Morelli customs.

  I decide to go for oblivious and pretend I forgot about all that, flashing Rafe a smile and going to turn away. Before I can, his hand locks around my wrist. I swallow down dread as he pulls me around the counter closer to him.

  “Where’s my kiss?” he asks.

  Oh, God, this is going to be so much worse after last night. Dread forms like a physical lump in my throat, but I can’t say no. He knows it, too, the evil bastard. His dark eyes dance with amusement, like he’s enjoying this.

  Twisted motherfuckers, every last one of them.

  Since there’s no getting out of it, I decide to deprive him of his joy in scaring me. I loop my arms around his neck, sigh happily, and plant one on him.

  He’s too surprised to respond, so I’m able to pull back and dart away before he can stop me.

  I hope it didn’t hurt Sin’s feelings, but if it did, he’s in for a lifetime of hurt feelings. Rafe clearly likes torturing us both. Refusing to let him see m
y agony, I make myself some oatmeal with strawberries and pull up a seat at the island, immersing myself in my book from last night while the men discuss the disappearance of someone named Theo.

  I get lost in someone else’s world for a while until Sin’s voice pulls me out of my book.

  “I want more.”

  Given his tone, it sounds like he’s talking to me. I look up, blinking in confusion. He cocks an eyebrow and shakes his empty mug expectantly.

  Arrogant prick. I roll my eyes, but it makes my indulgent heart happy. I’m so fond of this lazy bastard, I can’t even handle it. I slide my bookmark between the pages and stand, grabbing his mug and taking it over to the coffee pot so I can get him a refill.

  Rafe gets up and follows me. I stiffen as he encircles my waist from behind, holding my body against his. “You’re so attentive to his needs,” he murmurs with deceptive pleasantness.

  My heart skips a couple beats, but I try to keep my breathing steady. Chances are, holding me like this, he’ll be able to feel my body’s response if it’s not subtle enough. “Are you trying to embarrass me?” I murmur, preferring Sin doesn’t hear, but knowing he might anyway. We aren’t far enough away from the island that I can be sure he won’t.

  “Do you like being embarrassed?” Rafe asks, bending his head to kiss my neck. I’m sure it’s no coincidence that the spot he kisses now is exactly the same spot where Sin left the hickey.

  This is so fucking mean. It’s torture knowing Sin is back there watching this. I wish I could convey a silent apology, but I’m sure he knows I’m not doing this on purpose.

  “No, I don’t,” I tell Rafe firmly.

  “Neither do I,” he responds smoothly. “Don’t ever give him his fucking food before you give me mine again.” His hand grips my jaw and he tilts it up firmly as he murmurs into my ear, “Understand?”

  I’m vibrating with fury, but I nod my head as he leans in and kisses my jaw. “I didn’t think about it. I forgot.”