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“Condom.” I gasp. Saint is always diligent about using them when he fucks me. I just need him in me right fucking now.
“So impatient. We’ve got all night for once, darling. You that eager for this to be over?” Saint teases me as he lifts onto his elbows to reach for the bedside table where he keeps his supplies.
“No. But—” I kiss him, lightly scraping my teeth over his lower lip. “—mhm, want you.” I groan when he pulls away enough to actually grab the foil packet. I pout as he kneels up to roll on the latex.
“You’ve got me.” Saint flashes his brilliant grin again. “Just a second.”
“Ugh, you are such a tease.” I stroke myself as I watch him spread more lube onto his cock. I want his dexterous fingers on me. Saint watches me with that playful, knowing smirk of his. He can be such a tease. So I’m not surprised when he continues to take his time. Saint draws out the display with exaggerated porno faces and moaning over his own hand. When I’ve humored his theatrics long enough, I crunch upright to wrap my fingers around his nape and haul him laughing down to cover me.
“Oh, did you want something?” Saint wriggles, so the smooth tip of his cock paints lube all over my crotch. The brush of his light touch is tantalizingly inadequate. I wrap my legs around him, pinning him closer. Saint laughs against my lips. I grind into him, turning his laughter into a moan as the head of his dick presses against my entry. I shift, opening to him and pushing against him until he slips inside.
“Mm, you feel incredible, darling.” He mouths along my jaw to whisper into my ear. I shudder as he moves inside of me. Everything is slick and warm and so good. I keep touching myself while he thrusts into me, his ragged breathing mingles with mine and I capture his lips, enjoying the sensuality of being fucked slow and gentle. Like we have all the time in the world, because for once we do.
Sex with Saint is always amazing. But when our eyes meet and our bodies are moving in this slow synchrony, it’s unbearably sweet. Like he can tear me open and see straight to my most vulnerable core and I can’t handle it. His pace falters, and I’m pretty sure he’s just as haunted by the specter of might-have-beens neither of us can face. We aren’t a couple, and this gentle intimacy is too close to what that might look like if we didn’t both have our reasons for keeping sex and emotions separate.
“Fuck me like you mean it, Saint.” I rake my blunt nails over his shoulders, arching into him. I need to break the tension. Saint seems relieved by the shift in mood from that cloyingly sweet, quiet intensity.
“I thought you’d never ask, Angel.” Saint winks at me. Then he bends me in half and fucks me like it’s a race to get off. Fucking me like this. It’s probably going to be him. Either way, we’ve been doing this for long enough that I know he’ll make sure I’m satisfied before we’re done. “Want me to come inside you or pull out, darling? Come all over that handsome face?”
“Ungh, no jizz in my hair.” I grimace up at him, grunting with the effort of meeting his thrusts.
He’s wearing a condom and I’ve still got my IUD in place. So he can come wherever he wants as long as he doesn’t stop what his hand is doing to Bitsy and I don’t have to clean up after him.
Saint laughs, hard enough that his rhythm falters and he pulls out of me, burying his face in my shoulder as he jerks himself to stay hard. “Gotcha. Don’t make a mess.”
“Mhm, I’m officially off the clock for cleaning up other people’s bodily fluids.” I sigh as the coiled pleasure low in my belly eases, my orgasm drifting further out of reach as Saint chuckles until his eyes are watering.
“It wasn’tthatfunny.” I pout, put out at having my pleasure evaporate so close to climax. Edging bastard.
“It was though. You should have seen your face.” Saint wipes tears from the crinkles he gets around his eyes when he really smiles. He’s so freaking joyful it’s unreal sometimes. “Damn, you are such a parent.”
I swat playfully at his shoulder, torn between amusement and frustration. “Is that supposed to be pillow talk? You normally don’t suck at it this much.”
“Come here and I’ll show you how much I suck.” Saint beckons teasingly. I squirm toward him.
Saint manhandles me so that he’s between my splayed open thighs again, this time leaning over me to take Bitsy into his mouth. He lathes me with his tongue. My irritation floats away on waves of bliss.
I reach for Saint, and he shifts position so that I can wrap a fist around his hard dick while he blows my mind. I come first after all, but only just. Saint thrusts hard into my fist as he comes right after me, lips still sealed around my shaft. His low moaning as he climaxes vibrates through me, his tongue coaxing a few more shuddering jerks of pleasure out of me.
Once we catch our breath, Saint gets up to deal with the used condom and returns to his bed with a warm washcloth to tidy our mess. We snuggle naked in his bed. His fingers play idly over my body as we catch up on the mundane details of each other’s lives. It’s the abridged version, like I’d share over drinks if I had the sort of adult friends I grew up watching on television. Mostly, we try to make each other smile.
He pinches my nipple as he tells me about a client who won’t stop emailing him off the wall estate planning questions at all hours. I wriggle my ass against Saint’s limp cock as I tell him about the last few classes I need to pass before I can begin my student teaching in the spring. He chuckles at the corny math jokes my one professor posts at the start of each lecture. In his arms, I can’t stop smiling. I don’t have to worry about the hard things—other than his dick still nestled cozy against my ass—and that’s almost as good as the sexual release.
As we chat, we idly explore each other’s bodies. Familiar as that territory has become over our stolen nights together, it feels incredible to touch and be touched. His hands have me getting turned on all over again by the time his dick is nudging insistently against me. I hook my leg over his hip, handing him another condom for round two. Fucking me from behind—with both of us dozy—his gentle thrusts don’t feel quite as intimate as they did earlier, face-to-face.
Saint rocks into me, and we take our time savoring the sweet pleasure until we both come. I shift around enough to let him handle the aftermath. We fall asleep with him still draped around me. Visions of waking up to leisurely morning sex and sharing my morning coffee with an actual adult flicker behind my closed eyelids. Hard to say which I’m looking forward to more.
Myringtonejoltsmeawake in the wee hours of the night, dashing my hopes of a lazy morning. Disoriented, I roll out of Saint’s bed to get my phone. Shit. It’s my ex. If it wasn’t his weekend with our kids, I’d reject his call out of hand. But if something is wrong with Owen or Meg… I can’t risk missing an emergency with my kids. A text pops up before I can swipe to answer the phone call.
Meg:Come get us plz? Owen’s rly sick. *puke emoji*
My stomach drops. I want to ask her if he’s okay, but I need to answer the call and I can ask her father rather than put her in the middle.
Pops:OMW
I tap out a quick reply to assure my daughter that I’m on my way first, then take the call before it goes to voicemail.
“Is everything alright?” I hiss into the phone, glancing at Saint to be sure I haven’t woken him.
