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He does.
He grips the waistband and tugs sharply, ripping it apart in his hand. It’s such a barbaric thing to do, but I love it. I love that he doesn’t wrap me in cotton wool. I want him to want me as much as I do him. With my breast still deep in his mouth, he works two fingers into me, stretching me wide.
I am so turned on, he slips inside with ease.
“Oh, fuck,” he groans from around my breast, pumping his fingers in and out of me. “I want you.”
I know why he seems to be in a plight, but I don’t care. I arch into his touch, moaning because he is ingrained into me. “I don’t care,” I breathlessly confess, writhing against him.
But of course, he does.
“We can’t.” But his resolve is slipping.
He continues sinking his fingers into me, all the while tonguing my heavy nipples and driving me wild.
“If he finds out you’re not a virgin, he’ll kill you. It’s the only thing keeping you alive.”
I’ve heard it all before, but I still don’t care.
“Thisisme, feeling alive.” I open my legs wider, crying out when he flicks over my ripened clit.
“Oh,a????,” he pants, lifting his head and slamming his lips against mine. “You will be the death of me.”
Even though he doesn’t mean that in the literal sense, he’s right. Alek will know Saint took my virginity, which will end in his death. I can’t live with that reality, so I bite his bottom lip before flipping us over.
On his back, Saint looks beyond epic as he trusts me, awaiting the next move. I take a moment to examine him because he is a vision. His wild and unkempt long hair, and those tattoos and the barbell, I can’t stop myself from devouring every inch of him.
I bite his chiseled chin, then work my way down his chest. I lick a path down between his pecs before detouring to his nipple. I’ve wanted to do this since I first saw it. I flick my tongue over his barbell, then take his nipple into my mouth.
A cavernous moan leaves him as he arches into my touch. He threads his fingers through my hair, not appearing to mind my new style. I don’t want to hurt him, but I can’t help myself as I bite his piercing, before sucking softly.
“Fuck,” he curses, pulling my hair. “Harder.”
No surprise that he likes pain, so I do as he requests.
Once I’m done working over his piercing, I work my way lower, marveling at his rock-hard abs. I tongue each ridged plane, growing wetter with each lick. I glide my hands up and down his torso, fingering each raised scar.
Some would think his wounds mar his perfection but not me; they just add to who Saint really is.
His muscled V is heaven, and I trace the defined lines, unbelieving how incredibly sexy he is. I slither down his body, stopping at his impressive cock. I’m definitely no expert in this department, but when I push my reservations aside and take him into my mouth, I suddenly feel like a goddess.
He cries out loudly, thrusting his hips. When he hits the back of my throat, I instantly gag. “Shit. Sorry,” he pants, gripping my chin and positioning me so he can look down at me.
“It’s okay,” I whisper, mewling when he runs his thumb over my bottom lip. He gently lowers my head back down, but I don’t need encouragement. I want him all over me.
I work my head up and down, licking his shaft before taking him in deep. I can’t take him all in, so I wrap my hand around his base and begin to pump. The motion combined with my bobbing seems to work because before long, he cups the back of my neck, urging me to move faster.
Hollowing my cheeks, I frantically work his dick. With each stroke, the fire within me burns brighter, leaving me so wet, my arousal coats my sex. I am so turned on by pleasuring him, and if I don’t ease some of this pressure building in my core, I’m scared I might explode.
I begin to move my hips against the comforter because it rubs my clit in just the right way. I move my hand along his shaft in sync with my mouth, and when I tongue the slit at his head and a saltiness hits the back of my throat, I moan loudly. As does he.
The comforter acts as a poor substitute for what I want, but what other choice do I have? I want to come, but I’m frustrated because my orgasm will be lackluster. The only thing which will pacify this yearning is feeling Saint inside me.
Saint reads my thoughts and presents me with an option which blister my cheeks red raw. “We, we can do something else.”
My curiosity wins out in the end, and I pull back, him slipping out of my mouth. “Something else?” I have no idea what he’s talking about until he gently squeezes my ass cheek.
A winded gasp leaves me. “Oh? Oh!”
