Chapter 5: The Heat of the Sin

The silk sheets felt like cool water against my heated skin, but nothing could cool the fire Malakai was stoking inside me. He hovered over me, a dark silhouette of muscle and ink, his eyes burning with a "furious" light that told me there was no going back.

​"You’re shaking, Leona," he whispered, his voice a deep, gravelly caress. He caught my hands, pinning them above my head with a single, massive palm. The power dynamic was clear—he was the King, and I was his willing captive.

​"I’m not afraid," I lied, though my heart was hammering so hard I thought it might bruise my ribs.

​"You should be," he growled, leaning down until his nose brushed mine. "I told you I’m obsessed. I don’t do things halfway. When I take something, I take all of it. Your body, your breath, your 'bitch ass' mother’s memory... I’m going to replace it all with me."

​He started to move, his lips tracing a path of fire from my jaw down to the sensitive hollow of my throat. Every time his teeth grazed my skin, a "spark" shot through me that made my toes curl. He wasn't gentle, but he wasn't cruel; he was primal. He was marking his territory, and I was reveling in every second of it.

​"Tell me you want this," he demanded, his voice dropping to a dangerous, low frequency. "Tell me you want to be my sin."

​"I want it," I gasped, my back arching off the bed as his hand slid down the curve of my hip, his touch heavy and possessive. "I want to be yours, Malakai. No joke. I want everything you are."

​That was the breaking point. The primal intensity he had been holding back for years finally snapped. He claimed my mouth again, the kiss deeper and more demanding than before, while his hands explored every inch of me with a hunger that felt like it could swallow me whole.

​The air in the room felt thick, heavy with the scent of vanilla and the raw, muscled heat of his body. Every movement was a power play, every touch a promise of the "bloodbath" he was willing to cause to keep me right here. He treated my body like a holy relic and a playground all at once, his tattoos shifting like living shadows against my pale skin.

​As the night deepened, the rest of the world—the High Council, the debts, the danger—faded into nothingness. There was only the sound of our breathing, the crackle of the dying fire, and the overwhelming weight of Malakai’s obsession.

​"You’re a Queen now, Leona," he muttered against my skin, his voice thick with desire. "And this bed is your throne. I’m going to make sure you never want to leave it."

​In the peak of the storm, as the "furious" passion took over, I realized that I hadn't just found a lover; I had found my master. The sin was deep, dark, and beautiful. And as Malakai finally pulled me into his arms, his heart beating a steady, possessive rhythm against my own, I knew that waking up to this sin was the only future I ever wanted.