This Wicked Wednesday I wanted to share some more SINS OF THE FLESH! This scene is farily along in the book, after Mick and Caterina have had an initial encounter and the attraction between them has started to grow as they battle to find out what is happening with Caterina and if she truly is a murderer.

I hope you enjoy this Wicked Read!

Please do not proceed if you are not over 17

The right thing, Mick thought, closed the door and approached the bed where Caterina rested, her gaze locked on him as he neared.

Her skin had lost the flush of fever and returned to its creamy hue. Thick curly locks of her nearly black hair, heavy with moisture, rested against the side of her face.

As she turned the deep blue of her gaze up to meet his, she said, “No matter what happens at the end, you’ve done the right thing by me.”

At the end, he thought, unsure of anything other than the fact that this would all not end well for someone. Whether it was Edwards or Mad Dog or Caterina or even himself, someone would likely pay a high price at the conclusion of this assignment.

Mick sat on the edge of the recliner and cradled her cheek. Her skin bore a slight chill from the water and was smooth beneath the pad of his finger. So smooth and womanly.

Caterina covered his much larger hand with hers. His palm was rough. Clearly the hand of a man who worked hard with his hands. A strong hand, she thought as she moved her hand past his wrist and to his forearm. The hair on his arm soft beneath her palm. His body muscled and lean until she reached the edge of the bandage on his forearm covering the wound he had received battling for her. Another scar to add to the others on his body.

It had to be the fever that was making her remember just how that body had felt against hers when he had held her in the pool. How he had kissed her and she him, rousing passion that might be better left unexplored only . . .

“Would you hold me?” She needed the human contact. Needed the affirmation that she was still a woman. A desirable woman unless she was misreading the signals he was giving off.

“If holding is all you want, I may not be your man,” Mick replied and dipped his thumb down to trace the edges of her lips.

“I want more. I want to feel alive again,” Caterina said.

She was using him, but it wouldn’t be the first time or the last that a woman did that, Mick thought. Considering he found her damned attractive, weird genes and all, why not give into the temptation and get it out of his system.

“Move over,” he said.

Caterina shifted to the center of the bed and he joined her there, lying on his side and facing her. Their bodies less than a foot apart.

“Touch me,” she said and pulled away the sheet, exposing the fullness of her breasts with their soft tips.

He ran the pads of his fingers across the tip of one breast. Cupped the weight of it in his hand and rubbed his thumb across the tip until her nipples beaded into stiff nubs. He needed to taste, he thought and bent his head, licked the one tip while continuing to caress the other nipple with his hand.

She arched her back to give him easier access and cradled the back of his head. Moaned as he teethed the peak of one breast. He soothed that gentle nip with another lick and suckled at her breast while shifting one hand downward, across the flat expanse of her midsection. Past the delicate indent of her navel until the curls between her legs brushed the tips of his fingers.

She moved closer and threw her thigh up over his, inviting him to her most private core.

Tardily he accepted that invitation, skimming his fingers across her center until the sensitive nub swelled and his fingers dropped lower and experienced the wet of her femininity.

Caterina gasped as he explored that dampness, gripping his shoulders as he eased in first one finger and then another, stretching her in preparation for his possession.

“Mick,” she keened, shifting her hips against his hand. Holding his head to her, but wanting to feel the warmth of his body beside her.

He slipped inches away and she reached for the hem of his shirt. Pulled it over his head while he skimmed the sweat pants down his body, revealing the nakedness beneath the fleece.

She laid her hands on his shoulders once more and took a moment to enjoy all of him that was visible. The articulated and defined muscles of his body. The scars and bruises that spoke of a man familiar with danger and accustomed to violence.

But there was nothing violent about the way he touched her. About the gentleness of his mouth and hands as he resumed his loving.

She once again granted him access and he used it to full advantage, rousing her passion much as she urged him on, using her hands to stroke him. Playing him much as she might a sonata, each measured beat and pull of her hands giving him pleasure until he, too, was trembling and breathing roughly.

“I can’t wait anymore, Cat,” he said, rolling her beneath him. His arms braced on either side of her body as he slipped between her legs, but paused before entering her.

“I can’t either, Mick,” she replied and dropped one hand so she could encircle him and guide him into the center of her.

He sucked in a shaky breath as she gasped at his entry, held still as her body accommodated to the size of him. Thick in girth and perfect in length, he filled her completely.

She was the first to move, raising her knees to grasp his hips. The motion driving him even deeper within.

He met her gaze then, his eyes almost black with desire. A flush across the high cheekbones inherited from some long ago Aztec descendant. Full lips she wanted to savor.

She cradled the straight strong line of his jaw and brought her lips to his. Eased her tongue past the seam of his mouth to mimic the motion of their bodies. Her tongue darting against his much like he was drawing her ever closer to release with the pumping of his hips.

His movements grew more hurried and she urged him on with the soft cries of pleasure she whispered against his lips until something suddenly coalesced in the center of her.

The energy gathered into a ball and then exploded throughout her body, pulling him into her and caressing him as her climax overtook her body.

Mick exhaled roughly against her mouth as her soft cry of completion came against his lips and the muscles of her body milked him, pulling and tightening on him as his own release erupted in his body.

He managed to drive into her a few more times, prolonging her climax, but then he dropped down onto her, drained. His body heavy against hers, but she wrapped her arms around him and urged, “Don’t leave me yet.”

Yet, he realized, glad that she understood the limits of what they had just experienced, but saddened by that as well.

He allowed himself to bask in the pleasure of her soft skin beneath him, and the heat and wet of her center as her body caressed him while he slowly softened within her.

The temperature of her body remained warm, a little more than normal. Thankfully nothing like it had been earlier in the night.

Guilt rose up on so many levels, but he ruthlessly drove it back, justifying what had just happened with one simple truth.

They had both wanted it to happen.

The question was, now that it had, where did they go from here?