Page 106 of Savage Saint

Trino is smiling, and the rest who’d already treated me with kindness now look at me with acceptance. Like family.

Then he turns back to the crowd, and like that night when all he needed was to hold me, the man taking my hand and pressing it against his chest is not Santos. No. This is Saint, their president, speaking.

“My woman. My responsibility. My family.” Every word lands hard, but Janelle recoils as if she’s been physically slapped. “No one disrespects, threatens, or puts their fucking hands on her. And if anybody here has a problem with that, get the fuck out of my clubhouse.”

Nobody moves. Not one person.

Santos “Saint” De La Cruz doesn’t wait for anyone either. He turns and walks away, my hand safely tucked in his. While some reggaeton plays, he walks us upstairs. While the party returns, livelier than before, he closes the door behind him and strips off my clothes, then his.

Just a man and his woman.

“Come here, Genesis.”

I do, wrapping my arms around his midsection as I look up at him. “So…ol’ lady?”

“Problem with that?”

“More like you earned a reward, Santos. You’ve been racking them up lately. Private lessons, orgasms—new nurses’ lounge…more orgasms.” He’s thickening against my midsection, eyes hooded, but I still see the worry. “I’m fine. I used your punching technique and landed a clean shot on her chin. Bitch folded like an accordion.”

Oh, he likes that. Throbs against me.

Dropping to my knees, I lock my eyes on his cock before wrapping my hand around the shaft. Santos is thick and long, my fingers barely touch around it, and I stroke him twice from root to tip to watch a single bead of pre-come slide from the engorged head.

“Mine.” A declaration. My vow. I follow it with a single drag of my tongue up his balls, pausing for a minute or two to pay homage to the pretty silver piercing at his base. It’s a bar with a ball on each end in purple. Did he do this on purpose? I love the color, and I show my appreciation by licking him again, following the throbbing vein beneath until I reach the tip.

“Open your beautiful, cock-teasing mouth, Genesis. Let me kiss the back of your throat.” I open for him, sucking the tip between my lips and flicking my tongue where pearl-like beads slip onto my waiting tongue.

It isn’t unpleasant.

It’s him but earthier, and I moan around the velvet head, causing his muscles to contract. Then his hand is in my hair, fisting the mass of curls as his hips thrust, burying half his length inside my mouth.

I choke, gagging around him, but he holds me in place, thrusting in and out, and I let him. My nails dig into his thighs, my body strung tight with adrenaline and his claim.

“Fuck, that’s it. Again.” Spit runs down my chin and onto his balls, and he pulls me off long enough to watch a string of saliva connect my lips to his head before I take him down my throat once again. This time, I fight back the urge to gag, breathing through my nose, determined to take him all.

It’s not easy. I’m tearing up, but on his next stroke, I relax my body and let the intrusion happen. Slowly, I slide more of him down the back of my throat, before pulling off, and then again. Each entry is easier. My body gives in to the need, and when he thrusts forward, I don’t stop until my lips slide over the piercing.

The entire time, my eyes are on his, silently saying what my lips haven’t yet:

I choose you, too.

“I’m coming, Pocket Doc. Move if you⁠—”

“I want to taste you.”

“Dios, you’re perfect,” Santos groans, his thighs tense beneath my hands, muscles in his stomach contracting as his cock pulses against my tongue. His seed spills down my throat in a few thick ropes, and I keep him there until the last drops are swallowed. Only then do I pull off, kissing the tip before standing up again.

And the way he looks at me.

There’s nothing better.

Until a second later, I’m airborne again, this time ending up upside down with my pussy against his lips as he devours me…

26

GENESIS

The apartment feels off when I wake up.