Page 54 of The Lies Of Omission (Without Limits #3)

SIN

T heo’s skin burned beneath me—hot, flushed, and trembling like a live wire under my touch. Feverish. Starved. I was addicted to him in ways I’d never thought possible until his walls came down, and he let me in.

He moaned as I sucked and nipped his earlobe, biting the sensitive skin just below it.

My nose ran down the column of his throat, making him shudder in my arms. Dragging my mouth over the slope of his shoulder, his name was a rasped litany that stuck to the roof of my mouth like a prayer.

His back arched as I kissed down the curve of his spine, tongue tracing the dip of each vertebra like a roadmap I’d memorized with hands and hunger.

“Stay still,” I growled against his sweat-slick skin, my voice like gravel in my throat as I pushed his legs beneath him, guiding him into position with one hand firmly on the small of his back.

He folded for me like devotion, presenting himself with an obedience that made my chest ache and my cock pulse. He was mine. Made for me. He was perfect.

My fingers dug into the flesh of his ass, spreading him open, reverent and greedy all at once. I ran my nose along his crease, breathing him in—musky, sharp, raw—until I tasted him on the back of my tongue.

When I pressed my mouth to that puckered ring and flicked my tongue out in quick, teasing licks, he cried out—a wrecked, needy sound that shot straight to the base of my spine.

“Fuck,” he choked. “Yes—yes, don’t stop.”

I didn’t. I sucked and licked like I was starving for him, devouring the part of him no one else would ever know. He whimpered, hips rocking, pushing himself back on my face with a desperation that set me on fire.

My tongue slid inside him, tasting heat and sin, and my hand slipped underneath to wrap around his heavy leaking cock.

I stroked him from base to tip, thumb swiping over the slit before lifting it to his lips so he could taste himself.

Theo wrapped his lips around my thumb and sucked on the digit like his life depended on it.

Every sound he made was like a drug. Every tremble of his thighs, every broken breath. I kept him there on the edge, teasing, tormenting. I edged him like a sadist without a soul—loving his unraveling almost more than his release.

“I want you inside,” he begged, voice thick and slurred with lust. “Sin, please—fuck me, I can’t?—”

“You can.” I dragged my teeth along the curve of his hip. “You’re mine, Theo. You take what I give you.”

When I finally relented, and flipped him onto his back, he was wrecked—sweat-slicked, face streaked with tears, lips swollen from biting down on moans.

And those eyes.

His eyes were wildfire. Green and unblinking. Trusting. Burning with a lustful need that matched my own.

I stroked myself slowly, slicking my cock while his gaze locked on my fist. Watching. Wanting. “Hold your legs up, baby.”

He obeyed instantly, grabbing behind his knees and spreading wide for me, exposing everything—open, raw, and only for me. My beautiful, ruined boy.

“Good,” I murmured. “Such a good fucking boy.”

I pressed the blunt head of my cock to his hole and watched him strain up to meet me, to take me in. My breath stuttered. His legs shook.

I bit my lip as I sunk into him. The tight heat of his body wrapping around me and sucking me in. I was torn between watching the ecstasy on his face and where his body opened for me as I entered him.

Once I was fully seated inside him, I covered his body with mine, feeling little pulses of electricity where our skin touched. My lips sealed around his, my tongue forced its way into his mouth, moving against his as I fucked into him.

We moved together like we were made of the same ruined pieces—grinding, gasping, and trembling with the kind of need that bordered on madness. It wasn’t just sex. It was claiming. It was war, and it was love.

I buried my face in his neck, my voice broken as I whispered, “I don’t want to go.”

His arms clamped around me like iron, legs wrapping around my hips as I fucked into him harder, punching the breath from his lungs. “I don’t want you to either,” he breathed, mouth at my ear, heart pounding against mine. “But you will be back before you know it.”

“Yesss,” I hissed as he clenched around me, the word dragging from my throat like a promise forged in fire and branded on skin. It wasn’t just pleasure—it was possession. A surrender sealed in sweat, spit, and the kind of hunger that bordered on madness.

His fingers tangled in my hair, gripping, anchoring—like if he held me tightly enough, he could stop the world from spinning. Like if he didn’t let go, time would freeze, and we’d live in this single moment of delirium forever.

We moved together, perfectly ruined. Our rhythm wasn’t just for release—it was a prayer. A cry for salvation or damnation; it didn’t matter. As I thrust into him, slow and deep, drawing out the high until it bordered on unbearable, I wasn’t Sin anymore.

I was his.

Only his.

Just us. Bound by skin, soaked in sweat, carved into each other like a sacrifice made to a god neither of us believed in anymore. I’d let the world burn. Let it choke on its own smoke and ash if it meant I could stay in this bed, in this moment, in this man—forever.

“That’s it,” I growled into his mouth, barely able to form words through the heat blistering my throat. “Come for me, baby.”

And he did.

His whole body went taut, head thrown back, every muscle flexing beneath me as he arched into my chest. Heat pulsed between us, his cock painting both our stomachs with thick, desperate ropes of cum, gasping out a moan so beautifully broken it filled in the cracks in my heart.

“Oh fuuuck,” he whimpered, lips trembling, eyes fluttering shut. His fingers tangled tighter in my hair, pulling me back in, his mouth crashing into mine like he was trying to breathe me in, like if he kissed me hard enough, we’d become one.

His tongue claimed me with every stroke, every filthy moan he poured down my throat, daring me to lose it—to come inside him like he was made for it. Like he’d been waiting his whole life to be full of me.

“Oh, oh, fuck yes, baby—” I broke the kiss with a snarl, burying my face in the crook of his neck and biting down hard to muffle the wrecked sound tearing from my lungs.

My cock jerked inside him, my hips bucking uncontrollably as I emptied myself into him, my hips grinding to drive in deeper. To keep it there. A piece of me. Inside him. A claim that couldn’t be erased.

Even when I was gone—he’d still have me. We lay there, breathless. Shaking.

His legs wrapped around my waist like he never wanted me to leave, arms clinging to me like I was the last thing keeping him grounded. My body pressed flush to his, the beat of our hearts trying to sync.

Everything else fell away. The world. The wreckage we came from. All that remained was this—us, tangled in sweat-slick limbs, shivering from the high of our orgasms.

Theo’s fingers stroked lazily through my damp hair, and I listened to his heartbeat slow beneath my ear. We didn’t speak. We just basked in the afterglow.

His breath whispered across my temple, and I felt it—that soft, silent ache that came after the storm. Peace. It might only be fleeting but it was ours.

My hair was still damp from our shower as I slipped on my black Brookhaven Ridge Country Club polo shirt with shaking fingers. Every breath scraped through my narrowing throat like I was inhaling broken glass.

I was going to quit today. Finally . Burn the bridge and salt the earth. I was done looking back on places that made me feel less than. I wanted—no, needed —to discover who I really was, and I couldn’t do that working in a place I’d been sent to as a punishment

“What’s the smirk for?” Theo asked, side-eyeing me.

Instead of answering, I kissed him goodbye where he sat cross-legged on the living room floor, trying to make sense of another bookcase from the hell that was flat pack furniture. The man could open a goddamn library soon.

My imagination flared to life as I gave him a once-over. Cords, white shirt and tie with glasses slipping down his nose. God. If he wore a tweed jacket with elbow patches I’d let him ruin me.

He returned my kiss with a confused look, but when he opened his mouth, I kissed him into silence. When I pulled away, loving the dazed expression on his face, I tapped his nose and winked at him. Swiping my keys off the console table, and leaving before I could change my mind.

The country club was too quiet. The staff lot was nearly empty. Something twisted in my gut as I scanned the schedule. People who were supposed to be here were nowhere in sight.

I made my way down the corridor, my heart thudding.

The usual fake pleasantries and air-kisses were gone.

The place felt more like a ghost town than a bustling country club serving the elite.

Everything felt… wrong. Off. The usual fake smiles were gone.

The falseness of opulence was replaced with something darker.

That’s when I saw Thalia. Her arms were pinned by two security guards—the same ones that tossed Elias Ballantyne out like a drunk uncle at a wedding.

Her fury was nuclear. Eyes glassy and wild, lipstick smeared, hair falling from its pins.

“Sin!” she shouted the moment she saw me.

I lunged forward, but Timothy stepped in front of me like a wall of arrogance and Prada.

“You don’t get to speak to her,” he said coolly. “She doesn’t work here anymore.”

“What the fuck did she do?” I snarled.

“Apparently being your friend is now a crime,” Thalia bit out, her voice shaking.

I felt the drop in my stomach. Cold and slow and absolute. “Let her go. Don’t touch her. If you hurt her, I swear to God, I’ll bury you in a shallow grave.”

Timothy smirked. “Save that righteous rage. Mr. Astor is waiting for you.”

“What the fuck’s he doing here?” I snapped, trying to shove past.

Timothy didn’t move. “This way, you piece of shit.”

“Takes one to know one, Timmy boy.”