Page 33 of The Sin Binder’s Chains (The Seven Sins Academy #2)

Her pulse races beneath my fingertips. The air between us shrinks into nothing. She lifts her chin, her breath a whisper against my jaw, and fuck me, she’s staring at my mouth.

I don’t know who moves first. Maybe she tilts her head up. Maybe I lean down. Maybe it’s the bond, the pull, the unbearable fucking ache of wanting her and hating that I do.

But then,

Her lips brush mine.

A barely-there touch, soft and devastating. A quiet, unspoken challenge.

And I shatter. I claim her mouth like she’s already mine. One hand fists into her hair, pulling her deeper, harder, rougher because she started this, but I will finish it.

Her lips part on a gasp, and I take it, swallowing the sound, pouring every ounce of rage, of longing, of resistance and surrender into the way I kiss her.

She meets me with equal ruin.

Teeth. Tongue. Hands grasping at my shirt, pulling me closer instead of pushing me away, like she knew, she knew, I wouldn’t stop this, that I would cave, that this was inevitable.

Her hands burn against my skin.

She pushes my shirt up, fingers dragging over the ridges of my stomach, and I let her. The fabric bunches at my ribs, and I yank it over my head, tossing it somewhere behind me, already reaching for her.

But Luna’s faster. She grabs the hem of her shirt and pulls it off in one smooth motion, and fuck,

I can’t breathe. I can’t think.

Because she’s standing there, bare from the waist up, the firelight carving shadows over her curves, over the smooth, dangerous expanse of her body, and the bond, that cursed, relentless fucking thing, howls inside me.

It wants. I want. But it’s more than that. It’s worse than that.

Because I’ve spent so long resenting this connection, raging against it, rejecting it, cursing whatever gods tied me to her,

And now?

Now, I think it might break me.

Her gaze flicks up to mine, dark and knowing, and that look alone is enough to ruin me.

I exhale hard, dragging a hand over my jaw, forcing myself to find my voice, to hold on to what little restraint I have left.

“Luna.” It comes out rough, shattered, and I don’t know if it’s a warning or a plea.

She steps closer, slow, deliberate, bare skin brushing mine, and I swallow hard, grip tightening at my sides to keep myself from reaching for her.

She tilts her head, watching me, reading me, then, soft as a fucking whisper,

"You don’t have to fight me, Riven."

I grab her, pull her against me, skin to skin, heat to heat, no distance left between us. Because she’s right. And I’m tired of pretending she’s wrong.

I kiss her again, harder this time, swallowing whatever breath she was about to take. Her hands tangle in my hair, pulling, dragging, demanding, and I give in, fuck, I give in.

My fingers skim down the curve of her waist, down to the hem of her pants, and I don’t think, I just move.

I push them down, dragging the fabric over the smooth lines of her hips, down her thighs, letting her step out of them.

She does it without hesitation. No hesitation, no fear, just pure, reckless want.

And I can’t take it anymore.

I lift her into my arms, and she gasps, but it’s not surprise. It’s something darker, deeper. She locks her legs around my waist, her arms around my neck, and I hold onto her like she’s mine. Like she has always been mine. Like I was never meant to fight this.

She shifts against me, drives me to the edge of sanity, and I bury my face in the crook of her neck, breathing her in, consuming her.

"Riven."

My name. A whisper. A command. A curse.

And I am gone.

I can’t. I can’t stop. Not now, not when she’s wrapped around me, not when she’s letting me have her, not when I feel like I’m losing my mind and finding it at the same time.

Her breath hitches when I undo the clasp of my trousers, and she shifts in my arms, adjusting, moving to let me,

Fuck.

I press her against the rough stone behind us, needing leverage, something to ground me, because everything in me is unraveling, every instinct screaming mine, mine, mine.

I don’t ease into it. I can’t. I sink into her in one, deep, unforgiving motion, and she gasps,

Not in pain.

Not in shock.

In need.

The sound wrecks me.

Her fingers bite into my back, nails dragging down, sending fire through my skin. She clings to me, her legs tightening around my waist, her body arching to take all of me, and gods, she does.

The bond pulls tighter, a noose around my ribs, burning hot, white-hot, like it’s trying to fuse us, trying to make us one, whole, indivisible.

It’s not gentle. We aren’t gentle. We are fury and need, war and surrender. I thrust harder, deeper, sharper, and she moans, head tilting back against the stone, eyes dark with something I can’t name.

I take her jaw in my hand, forcing her to look at me, to see me, to know that this, whatever the fuck this is, belongs to no one but us.

Her lips part, breath ragged.

I lean in, voice low, ruined, raw.

"Luna."

She shudders at the way I say her name, at the way I mean it. And I, fuck me, I shatter.