Chapter 14 Saint
SAINT
Sleeping next to Wren…it’s an experience I haven’t had in more than a decade.
The sweet, powdery scent of her haunts me.
The feel of her warm little body curled up beside me.
Sometimes her butt presses against me, sometimes, she curls into my side.
I’m not sure I’m getting any more sleep than I was trying to spread out on my couch in my office.
I’m thinking too hard about how much I like the feel of her. The intimacy of having her in my bed.
It’s barely tempered by my talks with Sin and Doc. Sharing her isn’t ideal, but it keeps me from falling into this deeper than I should.
And with her innocence reaffirmed, I’m more determined to keep things from spiraling out of control.
She might be made of fire, but we’re going to have to coax those flames slowly. The right way.
This means I can’t let myself wake up with her. So I slip out of the bed, dress, and go upstairs before she wakes. The routine is exhausting.
But it also comes with its perks. She’s there when she finally rises, bringing me more coffee, breakfast, sandwiches, and treats.
It’s nearly lunch, and she’s slipping through my office door with a shy smile and a plate of brownies that she sets on my desk.
The pretense of it stings, opening a long scarred-over wound. How she’s found her way deep down to it, I’m not sure, but she’s filling in cracks.
Wren lingers, coming around my desk.
Leaning back in my chair, I swivel toward her, letting her take the lead. Those big eyes linger on my body, but unlike normal she’s struggling to meet my gaze. Insecure.
But she’s stepping closer. Slowly. So fucking slowly.
My muscles tighten involuntarily, braced, waiting for her to decide what she’s doing.
Growing used to the feel of her body in bed has turned my thoughts into scandalously vivid daydreams. It’s distracting.
But once she’s made her decision, her gaze lifts to mine, and I see the strong woman who doesn’t flinch away from me like so many others do.
Wren steps between my knees, then she’s crawling into my lap. I can’t keep my hands to myself, curling them around the backs of her thighs to keep her stable, to guide her thighs around my hips.
She braces my shoulders and leans closer still. The descent of her mouth on mine takes an agonizing number of seconds, but her kiss brings me to life.
It’s been a long time since I kissed a woman, languished in the warmth of her body, felt all her soft curves in my grip.
My restraints are shot, pulling her tighter as she sinks into me. Her ass feels so good in my hands as I rock her over me. I can’t hide how hard she’s made me. It’s been a long time since I’ve wanted a woman enough to rise to the occasion.
Especially this quickly.
Her hands filter through my hair, and need throbs through my veins. So much of her skin spreads under my palms, and I’m greedy for it.
When she tries to catch her breath, I squeeze and test her flesh. Curves like hers deserve to be appreciated, and I know for a fact that no one has had the privilege. Not the way I intend to worship them.
“Have a taste of pleasure and get addicted?”
Her eyes blaze at me. “Maybe.”
Then her hand sinks back into my hair, rough and teasing. Our mouths brush, and her hips churn, and I know just how to push her.
“You want me to touch you, wife?”
Her whimper is a spear to my heart.
“Right here at my desk? Do you want me to slide my hand under those shorts and test how wet you are for me?”
God, her breathing goes haywire.
I’m rock fucking hard, enjoying the small little moves of her hips seeking pleasure.
“Do you want to ride my face, soak my beard with your cum?” I guide her over my jean-clad hard-on, earning a moan. “You want to learn to reciprocate? Take my cock in your mouth. Have me teach you how to swallow it down?”
Because I fucking want that.
I want to be the one to show her how good it can feel to take a cock. Mouth. Pussy. Ass.
She’s going to learn to enjoy all of it. With the appetite she’s prodding in me. In Doc. In Sin.
And if she wants that, I’m not going to sit out. The hell I’m going to give her up and hand her over willingly.
She’s mine.
Wren’s mouth parts, eyes glazing as we grind together. She’s much further gone than I would have imagined from a little dry humping, but when her whimpers and moans match with the cadence of her hips, I’m convinced she’s about to come.
“That’s right, wife, give into that feeling. Show me what a good girl you are and come for me.” Squeezing a little harder, I work against her as her back bows, her nails dig into my shoulders, and her mouth makes a perfect O when she climaxes.
I can’t deny myself what I want any longer. I swing her up, plant her on my desk, stalk to the door to lock it, and return to tear her shorts down her long shapely legs, spreading her open and dipping for a taste. I’m starving.
And she’s soaked in sweetness.
Her cry echoes around me as I suck on her swollen clit. Lips, teeth, beard, I use every texture and technique to make her squirm, to draw out those tiny noises that she tries so hard to bite back.
Hips arch to meet my mouth, silently begging me for more.
I have no qualms about giving her what she wants, putting the pressure on her clit so that she comes across my tongue. She’s loud this time, like I ripped the pleasure right out of her.
What I don’t give her is a break. I don’t retreat at the sound of her whimpers. I hold onto her shaking thighs and shove my tongue inside her, lapping at her until she’s wriggling from a new build.
Fuck. I forgot how much I missed this. Having my wife at the mercy of my appetite.
And Wren seems to be able to take it. God, I hope so. I have a lot of time to make up for.
Her whines dig into me the same way her fingers dig into my hair, pulling and pushing like she can’t decide if she wants more or if it’s too much.
I circle a fingertip around her entrance, rewarded with a delighted whimper. It’s all I need to thrust it inside of her. She’s so tight, gripping me firmly. There’s no way I could fit her like this. Even as properly worked up as she is.
Not that I planned to take her virginity. Not today.
But when it’s time, I’ll have to take proper care of her. Some of that starts now.
I work her open to another finger, twisting and searching until the sweetest, animalistic noise falls free of her throat. Wren suddenly becomes pliable, ready for anything I might want to give her.
Note taken, wife.
And what’s better, she sinks into the pleasure. I’m sure she’s going to take everything I give her.