The Sinner's Marriage Redemption

That was what a lifetime of distrust did to you.

Thrusting it aside, she took his hand. It was hard and warm as it gripped hers.

Fire arced through her when Flynn leant close.

‘Lead the way.’

His words feathered her hair. Something twanged inside, like a string plucked, taut and vibrating. Ava’s heart-rate raced faster.

Up and up they went. With each step she was ultra-aware of Flynn behind her, his body shadowing hers. The only sounds were the creak of stairs and her fractured breathing.

Finally they reached the small landing. His closeness made her skin prickle in anticipation. Waves of longing washed through her as she inhaled his warm, woodsy scent.

All afternoon and evening they’d been together, yet there’d been no pressure from him for more intimacy. That was a good thing. Here was a man interested in her thoughts and feelings, not just her body.

She was grateful Flynn hadn’t rushed her. He was so physically imposing he could be almost daunting. Now she’d grown accustomed to his nearness and the feel of their fingers entwined, fitting so perfectly.

Was that how their bodies would fit?

Her breath quickened and grew shallow. Flynn might be giving her space, but she knew what she wanted even after such a short time. Nothing in her life had ever been so crystal-clear.

The old-fashioned key was heavy in her hands. She had to try twice before the lock clicked. She sighed with relief.

‘You’ll have to watch your head. I’m under the eaves so the roof slopes.’

Ava turned as she spoke to find him already in the room, the door closing behind him. In the dim light his tall frame filled the doorway and a frisson of sensation rippled through her. Doubt? Nerves? Excitement?

It made her hands clammy and her nipples peak against her bright T-shirt. Flynn’s gaze dropped to her breasts and the air in her lungs whooshed out.

No, not doubt. Not with desire pooling in her belly. She liked it when he looked at her like that. It made her revel in her femininity.

In Paris she’d wondered about his feelings, but here in Prague she’d seen the heat in his eyes, felt his possessive touch.

The key clattered onto the tiny bureau.

Flynn reached out and slid her tote off her shoulder, putting it beside the key. The brush of his knuckles against her top made her shiver expectantly.

She swallowed, suddenly gauche as their camaraderie disintegrated, incinerated by the flagrant heat of arousal. It scorched her to the core.

She’d never invited a man to her bed.

Before she could tie herself in knots with nerves, Ava stepped close. Flynn’s hard body drew her and she put her palms on his solid chest, feeling heat sear through the fine weave of his shirt. Yes!

His heart beat reassuringly beneath her fingers. Ava just had time to register that his pulse was far steadier than hers when large hands clamped her hips, drawing her to him. Need rose in looping spirals through her middle as she watched him smile.

‘You look like a cat about to swallow a bowl of cream,’ she whispered.

‘That’s how I feel.’

Flynn’s voice was a bass rumble she felt in the pit of her stomach. His thumbs circled her sides, just above the top of her jeans, making her hyper-aware of every stitch of clothing and the fact that she wanted to be rid of them.

‘Does that mean you’ll purr for me?’ She slid her hands up, linking them behind his neck. His skin was hotter than hers, more alive. Enticing.

Something flared in Flynn’s eyes. Something that reminded her he was no domestic pet. Her heart hit an extra beat.

No doubt he was vastly experienced with women. She’d seen heads turn when he passed. He was a man supremely comfortable in his skin, with an incredibly sexy aura of physical assurance.

‘Try me and see.’

He tugged till she was pressed against him, her breasts rising and falling against his torso. It was delicious.

Rising on her toes, Ava lifted her face, paused, reading the heavy invitation in his eyes, then skimmed her lips along his.

Soft, surprisingly cool. His mouth invited more. She paused, noticing for the first time the tiny tic of a pulse under his jaw that told her for all his cool Flynn was waiting, just as eager as she.

Ava tilted her head, planting her lips on his, moving tentatively as she learned the contours of his mouth.

He let her explore, standing passive. Almost passive—for his mouth responded, mimicking her gentle movements, inciting desire that drilled deep.

Ava slipped her tongue between his lips, finding warmth, heat, pleasure. She pressed closer, needing more, letting her body flatten against the intriguing contours of his frame. Bone and muscle and, yes... She twisted her hips. Arousal.

Instantly the hands at her sides clamped, drawing her tighter against him. His stance altered and somehow her body was curved into his, his head and shoulders were dominating, bowing her backwards, surrounding her.

The tempo of their kiss changed as Flynn gave up any pretence at passivity and took control, his mouth working hers, sucking, tasting, delving, drawing delight from every caress.

The world spun behind Ava’s closed lids as sensations more potent than any she’d known racked her body.

It was like tasting a burst of fireworks. Luminous delight singed her, detonating at pulse-points through her primed body, urging her to enjoy, take more, give everything.

Lost in luscious ecstasy, Ava barely registered the softening of her body, the melting at her core. She only knew she needed more.

Hands sliding up through the thick, pelt-like softness of Flynn’s cropped hair, she dragged his head closer, needily angling her face to his marauding mouth. Clumsy in her haste, her teeth mashed his lip and a sound of frustration broke from the back of her throat.

‘Easy...’ His voice was more vibration than sound.

Then all at once she was moving, pressed against the wall, caught between it and Flynn’s hardness. Long fingers bracketed her jaw, holding her still as he plundered her mouth with an expertise that left her reeling.

Ava felt caged, at his mercy, and she loved it. Foggily she registered how wonderful it was to relax her defences and simply feel. She was intoxicated by him.

She hugged him tight. Muscles flexed beneath her fingertips, making her long for the feel of him naked.

Hunger surged.

She shivered, sensations rioting deep within. The scent of Flynn’s skin, fresh like the outdoors, filled her nostrils and his taste, rich and addictive, made her greedy. Every neural pathway was clogged with the awareness of him—the texture of his skin, his heart beating strong and sure against her, the taut strength of his body pinioning her.

Then Flynn slipped his hand between them, moulding one aching breast, and her blood caught fire.

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