Chapter 34
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
E MERALD
When I wake up, Saint is already in the shower, but I find a small box next to my pillow.
A smile tugs up my lips up as I sit up against the headboard, the box in my hand.
Opening it carefully, I lift out a small chessboard keychain. It’s kitsch and obviously came from some cheap gift shop. It’s a stupid thing to give someone, and yet I can’t help the way my heart stutters.
I open the folded note and read Saint’s handwriting. Congrats, Anna Muzycuk. You’re beating me sometimes now.
A laugh bubbles from my throat. Anna Muzycuk is a chess grandmaster, and I admire her greatly. Something flutters in my chest. I’m taken aback that he’d even take the time to do something like this. It’s moments like this, moments where the cool guy of Saint melts away, that you get just a glimpse of something softer beneath. A rare occasion that makes my body tingle and heart pump faster, knowing I’m the only one who’s seeing it so openly displayed.
And with a shake of my head, I push myself out of bed and get ready to start my day.
* * *
Soft music hums in the backyard as Milena continues to move through the choreography for her lead role in the school’s end-of-year performance. Some fresh take on the Twelve Dancing Princesses , it has Milena continuously practicing lines and dance moves.
Saint’s fingers brush idly along my leg as we nestle on the lounger on the deck. The younger kids are busy running around with Saint’s dogs in the open space in front of us.
“That pamphlet Amanda gave me was really interesting,” I say. “It says that people with kleptomania have a higher chance of also suffering from OCD because both are linked to strong compulsive and impulsive qualities. I’m going to keep going to the group, but I’ve decided I’m going to start CBT as well.”
It’s really hard for me to actually say ‘OCD’ out loud. It’s hard to admit to my issues. Because then I also have to face up to them. But something makes me feel like I’m stronger now and that I’m in a place to face my fears.
“I’m proud of you, Em.”
And I give him a genuine smile as we continue watching the kids and dogs.
Over the last week, something has changed.
Some switch has flipped.
My feelings are different than before…more intense. He walks into a room, and my attention zeroes in on him. He smiles, and I turn into a puddle of goo. He talks to me, invests in a conversation with me, and my heart thunders in my chest. It’s a lot more than just a physical thing anymore. Somewhere between the mind-blowing sex and the soft conversation that follows, the icy layers of Saint have melted.
For Saint, the lingering touches, heated glances, and kisses are just for show.
But for me, it feels real.
And it’s a real that’s terrifying and thrilling…
* * *
That night, we’ve just come into the bedroom to go to sleep when I turn to face him. “Saint, this is…real.”
He blinks. “What?”
“You. Me. What we’re doing.” I let out a deep breath, holding his stare. “It’s not fake. I mean… I don’t want it to be fake. I want it to be real.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
My heart races in my chest, and I’m almost certain he can feel it. “I’m in love with you, Saint.” My words are so soft, so tentative. “Saint, it hasn’t been fake for me for a while. And I…” Again, I’m not sure what to say. I just thought I could pretend. But I don’t want to pretend anymore. I don’t want something fake. I want something real. With him. However he can give it, as long as it’s him. “I don’t know when it happened, but it did, and I don’t want to pretend anymore. I don’t want to pretend that any of this between us is just for show.”
His thumb brushes against my bottom lip. “Say it again.”
“What?”
“ Say it again .”
“I love you?”
His head bows against me, and his eyes slip shut. “You beautiful, aggravating woman. This hasn’t been fake since you moved your gorgeous ass into my house.”
I blink, feeling some mix of confusion and elation. “ What ?” The word puffs out between us as his lips ghost mine.
“You heard me.” His lips skim across my skin. “You’re perfect. Beautiful. Addictive. Mine. You’re mine, Emerald Fiorelli, and I’m never going to let you forget it .”
My head tilts back as my eyes flutter closed as he presses against my mouth.
“Hits and killing used to be enough for me. But then I got bored of the kills. And now, you’re the only thing that makes me feel high. You’re my addiction. Your smiles. Your laughter. You. You’re like sunshine chasing off the rain, and being with you lights up everything in my whole goddamn life. And I know that I want and need you and your smiles in my life forever.”
Saint’s lips kiss a blazing trail along the column of my throat. Each kiss is soft, tender, worshiping my body and combusting every nerve within me.
“Mine, and I’m not letting anyone else have you…” He laughs with a deep growl against my ear as his hands begin exploring the curves of my body. Every inch of me sets on fire, and I arch my body into his, needing more, wanting more. Only ever with him.
He pulls back with a dangerous smile. “Strip. Now.”
I lick my lips, watching him as he pulls from me, and I whimper at the loss of contact.
“ Now, Emerald .”
The way he orders me sends a flash of something molten through my body. I hold his gaze as my clothing flutters piece by piece to the floor. I take my time rolling my thong down, knowing his hungry gaze is on me, addicted to every detail.
The look he gives emboldens me as I let the fabric fall from my fingers to the floor. An appreciative hum leaves him.
My heart stops as I watch him discard his clothing. His hand wraps around his hard length. My eyes track the way he pumps himself, my core clenching, needing and wanting him to soothe the ache.
It feels like I’d been waiting for this moment since we started this weird journey. Since he picked me up in that stupid car. And maybe in the back of my mind, I’ve always been toying with the idea of this—although I never admitted it, even to myself.
This idea of an ‘us’ completely consumes me.
He steps closer to me, and I stand there, breathing raggedly.
“On the bed. Legs spread wide open,” he orders.
A delicious shiver moves down my body as he looks me over and drinks in every detail.
“ Bed. Now .”
“Or what?”
His lips tug at the corner. “Or you’re going to have to find something to hold on to while I spank your ass.”
I back up to the bed, holding his gaze with each step, before I crawl to the middle of the mattress, spreading my legs for him. Giving him a view of the wetness that soaks me.
“ Good girl .”
When he says those words to me, they’re my undoing. I’m hooked on this man. I love him .
“Pay attention,” he grits out at me.
Blinking, I look up at him. His features are strained with impatience. I’d gotten lost in my musings about him, but goddammit, he’s something else—and all fucking mine.
He hums again, claiming my mouth as he looms over me, his body primed to take what it wants. His tongue finds entrance once more, and we duel and fight for dominance, fingers roaming, neither of us willing to give up control—until I submit and allow him to take the lead and deepen the kiss.
A rough hand at my jaw angles my head further, sending a gush of heat in its wake. My mind fogs with desire, my blood heats another ten degrees, and each stroke of his thumb against my jaw sends thrumming electricity coursing through my body.
Every fantasy I’d ever had of him these last few weeks, every craving that’s caused heat to pool in my body, is finally coming to fruition.
He feasts on me, and I can’t get enough of him. Every nerve ending is firing in rapid succession, and the ache between my legs beats even fiercer.
His hand moves from my jaw to my breast, kneading as his mouth trails down my neck.
His rough fingers twirl around my sensitive nipple, drawing a low moan from me.
He chuckles against my jaw before repeating the motion on the other breast. “Your tits are so damn responsive...”
His mouth replaces his fingers as they trace slowly down the sides of me, caressing my hip and the tingling flesh of my thigh. “Fuck, Em…so wet just for me?”
Words evade me as a groan slips from me, my back arching. Sliding my hands around his broad shoulders, I sink my nails into him, holding on for purchase as his thick fingers pump into me without warning.
Finally, some relief... But it’s not enough.
“More,” I moan.
He rubs at my clit before inserting another finger deep inside me. Moving it in and out, again and again, until I’m writhing against him, desperate for release.
“Saint…” I swallow thickly. “I need…I need…”
“I know.” His fingers stretch me, and he cups my breast with his free hand. He pinches at my aching nipple, and I gasp once more. His mouth moves from my breast, trailing down my stomach as his tongue leaves a wet path down the middle of me.
“Please…” I plead, my fingers sinking into his hair.
I can feel him smirk against my skin. “I know, baby…”
His words puff against me, and my eyes roll back into my head. With a long lick, he traces circles around my heated bundle of nerves that are aching for attention.
Swiping back and forth, up and down. Worshiping every inch of my core like some starved man. His hands wrap around my thighs, pulling me against his mouth.
My head falls back, and I can think of nothing but Saint. Of his mouth on me. Of his body against mine. And as I arch my hips to meet him, he sucks so hard that I nearly shoot off the bed, his dark chuckle vibrating around my thighs.
His tongue continues its languid exploration of my core, his teeth scrapping just lightly against my clit to send me into another stratosphere, and stars explode behind my eyes as my fingers curl into his hair tighter.
“More…,” I groan, grinding into his mouth harder. “Saint!” I scream as I come, my body tensing and spasming.
And with one more lingering lick, he pulls away from me. “ You taste like mine, baby .”
But all I can do is nod, my brain no longer functioning.
He kneels between me, his hand pumping his hard shaft up and down.
“Please,” I whimper. I want him. Need him.
“Please what?”
I glare up at him. “You know.”
“Say it.”
“Fuck me.”
He drags his tip between my folds, and I shudder. “Nicer.”
My head falls back, and I groan. This man can be so infuriating . My body is on fire, hotter and burning hotter yet.
“Say it nicely, Emerald,” he orders.
“Please fuck me?” I offer.
He drags the head once more through my folds, and I nearly come undone again. He leans slightly to the side like he’s about to move. My hand latches onto his wrist.
“I need you, Saint.” I see a smile of satisfaction flit across his face. “And I’m clean and on the shot.”
He groans, looking down at me. “Fuck, Em, you’re gonna kill me.” And whatever he sees makes his chest heave with a ragged pant. “I’m clean too.”
“Good. Now, Saint, fuck me.”
“With fucking pleasure, Emerald.”
His hand smacks my thigh as he spreads my legs as wide as they’ll go, yanking me toward him. I grip the bedding in my fists, waiting to feel him enter me. And in one long thrust, he’s buried half inside me.
The rumble that leaves him causes every muscle in me to clench.
Another push, and he’s fully inside me. The stretch, the heat of him, the scent of sweat and sex in the air only add to the sensation. It’s too much and not enough at the same time.
“Fuck,” he breathes, his mouth moving to scatter kisses all over my skin. Goose bumps spread like wildfire every place he touches. And then he begins to move. Arching to meet him, my nails dig into his shoulders.
I can feel my next release building. The rumble in his chest becomes a deep moan as he pumps, stretching me further. The lust that swirls between us fogs my head. But it’s more. Because every move of his hips as he drills into me is followed by a rush of ecstasy and something else. Something that makes him feel made for me, both of us lost to the sensation of each other. Animalistic and primal.
“Faster,” I grit out.
“No. I don’t want to hurt you, Em.”
“Move, dammit.”
A chuckle reverberates through him, and his hips start slamming faster, the bed banging into the wall over and over again. Panting fills the air, and I’m lost once more to the sensations of our bodies. I am his. Completely, utterly, and fully. And knowing this is totally intoxicating.
Our mouths connect once more, teeth scraping and pulling at each other’s tender flesh. His tongue slides in and thrusts just like his cock, branding him to me in every part of my body. This is everything I secretly wanted, and I give myself up to him.
He pushes further, deeper. His hands grip my thighs, lifting them to angle deeper with each thrust. Stars bloom behind my eyes as I squeeze them shut.
“Mine,” he growls against my ear. “You’re mine, Emerald. All fucking mine.”
“Yours. Please,” I beg.
Maybe it’s the way I beg him or how I suck him into me that pushes him over the edge because he releases a roar that shatters me. His body tenses over mine, and absolute pleasure falls over his features, easing the hardened lines. He continues to pump inside me once, twice, three times more, before slamming me straight into my own shattering release, my hoarse scream echoing around us.
His breathing is ragged as his hands slip beneath my thighs, and he pulls me over his body. I’m pliant and relaxed, barely keeping myself up. “C’mon baby, you can give me another.”
“Saint,” I pant, “It’s too much. It’s too good. I can’t...”
“Are you a quitter, baby?” The taunt just riles me up further. “Ride me, baby, and show me I’m yours.”
A coy smile lifts my lips as I look down at him. His head falls back, and I relish the way he relinquishes control to me. I sit up straight, sliding down on his dick slowly until I’ve taken every inch. His head lifts, looking at where our bodies join. Not a sliver of space remains, and I smirk wider. “You mean like this?”
He nods and grips my hips tighter, his mouth parting in a silent expression.
I swirl my hips, grinding down, and his breath hitches. “Who do you belong to, Saint?”
“ You .”
That single word is thrilling. I spread my legs a little wider, feeling the stretch as he moves deeper. His eyes roll back into his head, and I place my hands on his stomach, lifting myself up and down, again and again.
The rhythm is hard, relentless—just like before. With every rock of my hips, the way he meets me with his own buck of hips is too good and too much.
“Baby,” he pants. “I’m gonna… fuck …”
I move faster, finding the perfect rhythm between us. His hips snap up as I come down, and my head falls back as I shatter around him, and the roar that leaves his mouth only makes me come even harder.
Collapsing onto his chest, I can’t find my voice. I reach up, brushing my fingers against his jawline. “You’re mine.” I pant.
“ Yeah, Em, I’m yours .”
My body is tugged close to him, and we’re a tangle of sweaty limbs and silky sheets. His fingers drift through the strands of my hair, soothing me and lulling me to sleep. His lips press to my forehead, and I can feel my eyes droop.
“You’re utterly amazing, Em.”
I look at him, and the expression on his face makes my skin heat again, that ache within me returning anew.
He cups my face, thumb brushing my cheek.
I smile, lowering my head back down to his chest. And the steady yet elevated heartbeat of him beneath my cheek makes my smile grow wider.
This is where I belong. Right here. His fingers drift down my spine, up and down in a soothing rhythm. The sound of our breaths fill the space, and I’m almost certain he’s falling asleep beneath me.
“Marry me, Em.”
I blink, lifting up to look at him again.
“ What ?”
“Marry me.”
My brow furrows, and I look at him, trying to determine if he’s actually serious.
“ For real. Marry me ,” he repeats. “I’m not built for opening up, letting someone in, supporting them emotionally. You know that already. But you should also know that you’re the only woman for me, Emerald. ”
I can’t help my smile and laugh. Of all the places to propose to someone, only Saint would do it after sex.
“Is that a good laugh?”
“Yeah. Yeah, it’s a good laugh.” I press his lips to mine, and my hands cup his face as I deepen the kiss for a second, my tongue sweeping into his mouth before pulling back. “Yeah. I’ll marry you.”
His lips spread into a smile, the genuine kind that has my body lighting up like a Christmas tree because I know I’m the only one who gets these smiles. “Good.”
And this is what it feels like. To be in love. To be wanted. To be seen. And nothing has ever felt so damn right like it does with Saint.