Seven Sexy Sins by Serenity Woods

but one pillow onto the floor, lay on his back and placed the last pillow under his head lengthways. The room was subsiding into twilight, and somebody had lit a barbecue on the beach somewhere—the subtle smoky smell complementing the sweet scent of the jasmine that was rising again. Music also filtered through with the aromas, either from one of the other motel rooms or from the beach, slow ballads and lazy acoustic guitar, Jack Johnson, maybe, or John Mayer, the notes spiralling with her thoughts.
    His eyes were dark, intense. He was no longer the friend she’d known for millennia, replaced instead by the lover she was beginning to adore. She moved up the bed, manoeuvring herself astride the pillow, and his hands guided her down onto his mouth.
    Faith leaned her arms on the headboard of the bed, her heart thumping. She closed her eyes as he kissed the soft, sensitive skin of her inner thigh. He brushed his lips against her hair, sending a tingle through her. Then he swept his tongue right through the hot centre of her.
    “Fuck!” She inhaled sharply, tensing at the unfamiliar feeling. He gave a short, brief laugh, and his hand stroked the outside of her thigh in response, but he didn’t stop. Forcing herself to relax, she gave herself over to him as he began to arouse her slowly with his lips, teeth and tongue.
    She rested her forehead on her arms. The sensations he was creating were incredible. He caressed her thighs and hips and brought a hand underneath to stroke her, parting her lips with his fingers to access the heart of her sensitivity. He slipped his fingers inside her, deep inside, his thumb joining his lips and tongue in teasing the responsive spot at the top so that she groaned and widened her hips, begging him to take her further.
    So he did, slowly, making it last as long as he could. He drew out her pleasure until in the end he was barely touching her, each little brush of his tongue, graze of his teeth or sucking of his lips making her teeter on the edge of the chasm, until eventually she pleaded for him to let her fall. And so he covered her sweet spot with his warm tongue, slid his fingers back inside her, and held her tightly across the thighs with his other arm as her orgasm exploded within her like fireworks.
     
    Rusty let her lift herself off him and collapse onto the bed. He looked across at the sliding doors to see the twilight settling, and watched a moth hover around the lamp outside, although it didn’t come in. There were no lights on, but the full moon that hung low in the sky like a Christmas bauble lit the room, and as he turned his head to look at Faith, he saw her skin glowing, luminescent like an oyster shell. She looked as if she were made of marble, each muscle delineated by light and shadow, like a Greek statue of a gracefully reclining woman, sculpted with a careful hand.
    She took his breath away, and for the first time since they’d slept together, Rusty forgot she was his friend, forgot she was Dan’s sister. She was beautiful and exotic, and he felt an unfamiliar rush of his blood, a thump of his heart. Not just desire, although there was that as well. But a kind of awe, of wonderment and admiration.
    “Don’t move,” he said as she stirred, lifting her arm from her face. She stopped, arms above her head, and he lifted himself onto his elbow to look down at her, shivering at the way her pupils were so large her eyes seemed entirely black. He let his gaze skim over her, noting her sudden intake of breath, her unnatural stillness. He followed with his hand, tracing light fingers along the swells and valleys of her womanly figure, across the hills of her breasts, into the dip of her navel, the small hollows beneath her hipbones.
    He moved his fingers where his mouth had been, just a light brush, revelling in the way she was so wet and swollen, rich and velvet, before continuing up her body once again. Her eyes glittered in the darkness, reflecting the moonlight, and he