Chapter 25
SAGE
If you could die from orgasmic bliss, I swear I see the pearly gates before crashing back down to Saint’s bed. I have never, and I quote, never, climaxed so hard in my life. If I was hesitant to do this again from fear of the repercussions, Saint’s tongue quite literally erased any thoughts of doubt I had. I am hooked on Tyler Saint Bones, and I need another fix. Like a crackhead on the streets, my body aches for more. More of him, his tongue, and his delicious cock that is now straining so hard against his sweats I need to free it. So, I do just that.
After I crash back down from heaven, I slide myself to the edge of his bed, grabbing Saint by his waistband and freeing his erect and throbbing dick. Wrapping my hand around his base, I spit on his velvety smooth skin and start pumping my hand up and down his length as I stare up at him with post-orgasmic eyes. He tilts his head back, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. But when I wrap my lips over him, the moan that escapes his throat has my pussy dripping all over again. Looking up at his bare chest, his abs are on full display for me as his chest rises and falls in quick successions. Raising his arm, he twists his fingers through my hair and pushes me forward against his pelvis so his dick invades the back of my throat, eliciting a gag with every thrust. Drool drips down my chin as wet, guttural sounds come from my mouth. It sounds so dirty, so filthy, but I love every disgusting slurp of my tongue. Even when he hits the back of my throat, he’s still not completely inside. He’s too big, too thick, but I take him as best as I can.
“Fuck, Sage, you’re taking me so well.” I hum around him, the vibration making him moan again.
“Fuuuck.” I continue sucking and swallowing him as best I can, needing to hear more of his satisfied moans. I’ve never been someone that needs to please others, but with Saint, all I want is his praise, his encouraging words. Like a desperate whore needing the approval of her master. Who the hell am I?
“Come here, baby. I need to feel your sweet pussy right fucking now.” Saint picks me up and pushes me back against his bed, his hands finding the hem of my tank top and pulling me free of the restrictive fabric. Removing his sweats completely, he gets on the bed and straddles my waist.
“You’re so fucking perfect, Sage, and you’re all mine.” He leans over me, grabbing both my wrists and pinning them above my head. Warm, hungry lips find my neck as he kisses his way to the sensitive spot behind my ear. The gentle sensation of his lips dusting my skin gives me goosebumps. I groan as his body presses into mine, heating my already burning skin. I rub my thighs together, desperate for more friction, and feel the wetness pooling against my inner thighs.
“Saint, please, I need you now.” Yes, I’m begging, but I can’t go another minute feeling like I am going to burst with no relief in sight. I need something—him, his cock, his mouth, his fingers—fuck, I just need him.
“Whatever you want, I’ll give you.” Saint thrusts fully inside of me. The sudden invasion and feeling of being painfully full makes me gasp. The pain slowly morphs into a delicious pleasure that has my core screaming for more. I push against him, needing him to move again. Pulling all the way out, he pushes inside again, but only halfway before pulling out. He does this over and over, and I want to scream. My climax gets so close, but then slips away like a whisper in the wind. I’m chasing my orgasm, but it never comes. He’s playing with me, purposefully keeping me from reaching the top, and I groan in frustration.
“Tell me what you need, baby. Tell daddy what you want.” Oh, fuck. I could come just from his words alone. The sultry way he whispers in my ear has my eyes rolling back to my skull.
“I need you, all of you. Please—” I’m unable to finish my sentence because the force at which Saint pushes inside me has me seeing stars. Hard, fast, punishing thrusts over and over again are hitting that spot that causes me to explode all over again. Stars dance across my vision, little black dots threaten to obscure my eyesight, and my name fills my ears as Saint chases his release right behind me. I never want this feeling to subside; I never want this to end.
Our heavy breathing is the only sound I can hear besides the pounding of my heart. Saint rests his forehead against mine, our noses touching and our breaths mingling as we slowly come down from our highs.
“I’m never letting you go.” Saint kisses me with so much force, with so many unspoken words, I fear we’ve both found ourselves in a situation we can no longer come back from. I, too, never want to let him go. He’s who I crave. And for the last few nights, he’s who I see in my dreams. He’s everywhere, his scent, his voice, the sound of his motorcycle when he pulls up to the house, the way he dominates a room just by being present. There is no escaping Tyler Saint Bones, and if I’m being honest, I don’t want to.
With him, I feel different, more than just wanted or needed. He makes me feel beautiful. I never feel like I need to hide myself when I’m around him. I’ve always been hyperaware of my scars, but when I’m with him, I’ve noticed I couldn’t care less if he sees them or not. Saint has never made me feel like my scars make me undesirable. If anything, I feel more like myself than I have in a very long time.
As much as we bicker, it’s hard to see past our relationship as being more than just friends, but then he says things that make my heart constrict and beat faster than it ever has. Saint knows me, all of me: the good, the bad, and the scars that haunt me daily. Even with all my insecurities, he’s never treated me differently. Rather, he’s celebrated me in a way I never thought a man would. Slowly, I’ve come to realize, he’s right. He’s right when he says my scars should be the reminder to live my life as a blessing from God, who gave me a second chance. He’s right.
That night, I sleep beside Saint, his arm wrapped around my waist as I slip into the deepest sleep I’ve had since the fire. I feel safe, secure, and, above all else, I feel happy. Truly happy, and I can’t remember the last time this feeling filled my body. Yes, I love my life, and I’m happy in the sense that I’m healthy, Saxon is healthy. We have food, this house, and the club that loves us all fiercely. However, this deep, soul-warming joy has been absent in my life after losing my father. Waking up next to Saint, hearing his gentle, deep breathing and knowing he would do just about anything to protect me, awakens butterflies inside me that had been dormant for so long.
“Sage, sweetheart, are you home?!” Mira’s voice echoes throughout the house. Saint tenses behind me as we scramble out of the bed once again.
“Fuck, is this going to happen every time?” Saint laughs as he grabs my clothes, putting them on the bed and dressing himself as quickly as he can.
“I’ll distract her. Get dressed and make a grand escape.” I laugh at his choice of words; he shoots me a wink before reaching his door and slipping out without opening it fully. I dress as quickly as I can, wrapping my robe around me before I wait at his door and listen for a moment to escape.
“Mira, gorgeous, good morning!” Saint coos to Mira, and I stifle a laugh, covering my mouth with my hand as I continue to listen.
“Oh, Mio, you’re too much. When are you going to find a girl you can spew your compliments to, huh?” I wait for his response.
“Oh, Mira, how do you know I don’t already have one?” My back stiffens. What the hell is he doing? We’re supposed to be lying low, not shouting from the rooftops we had sex. Twice!
I wait a moment longer until their muffled voices drift off into the distance before I quietly exit Saint’s bedroom and head straight for the coffee machine. I get busy, making it look like I’d just woken up, which I did, and came downstairs to make coffee. Which is what I would normally do. As I grab a filter, I hear the faint ping of my cell phone, indicating I have a text message. Looking around the kitchen, I don’t see my phone until I realize I’d left it in his room. Shit.
I quickly run back to his room and grab my phone off his nightstand before quickly running back out. As I turned the corner to enter the kitchen, I run straight into Saint. His hands fly to my face, holding me still, and he kisses me stupid. Fuck this man and his magician powers of jumbling my brain and making me melt into his embrace. His kiss is deep but quick as he holds me close and pushes me back against the wall.
“Saint, she’s going to catch us,” I whisper as his hard body molds into mine, where I can feel the unmistakable bulge beneath his sweats, pushing into my abdomen.
“It’s invigorating, huh? The thought of being caught at any moment.” His lips brush against mine as he continues to grind into me, my strawberry bodywash emanating off his skin from last night. Damn, it smells good on him.
“Sage? Where are you, Mia?” I stiffen, and try to push him away, but he holds me firm.
“Respond to her. Tell her you’re busy.” His face is at my ear, his perfectly maintained beard tickling my cheek. I suck in a jagged breath.
“I’ll be right there, Mira.” My voice quivers.
“That’s not what I told you to say. I said tell her you’re busy.” Another hard grind of his body against mine, and there it is again, the wetness settling in my panties.
“I’m a little busy,” I choke out. This man is going to be the death of me.
“Now, go and get rid of her, I’m not done with you yet.” Letting me go, I instantly feel cold and empty, with his body no longer pressed against mine, and I instantly want more. I’m in trouble.
I find Mira in the laundry room, fiddling with my clothes, as well as Saxon’s and Saint’s, before she sees me at the entrance.
“Ahh, there you are, lovely. How was your night? How was the exhibit?” I had mentioned the show to Mira a couple of days ago and had shared how excited I’d been. I’d half expected her to forget, but that’s not Mira .
“It was nice, yeah. Lovely pieces and good vibes.” I can’t look her in the eye; I feel like I am lying, but it had been a nice night, except for the unexpected panic attack.
“Wonderful, and the gentleman? How was he?” Fuck, I knew that was her next question. I shift my eyes again; I am horrible at lying. I guess that’s not a bad thing, though.
“Uh, he was nice, pleasant. Yeah.” Mira stops messing with the clothes, giving me a knowing glance.
“Just nice?” The pressure of her gaze is too much. I give her a hug to distract myself.
“Yeah, Mama. He was nice, that’s all.” I roll my eyes at her, playing the usual daughter role. She chuckles at my response before I head out of the laundry room, but then stop in my tracks. Saint is waiting for me, leaning his body against the wall and giving me a stare that does things to the now awakened butterflies in my stomach. He raises an eyebrow at me, but I turn back around to Mira.
“Why don’t you let me do that today? I don’t have class, and it’s supposed to rain all day today anyway.” The semester just started, and I am lucky enough to have Wednesdays off. “It will give me something to do. You go enjoy a day for yourself.” I step close beside her, grabbing the garment in her hand and sorting it into the colored pile of clothes.
“No, dear. This is what I do.”
“Please, Mira, I insist. You work too hard. You need to take time for yourself. Why don’t you use that gift card I got you for your birthday months ago and go to the salon for a mani-pedi day?” She sighs, tilting her head back a bit.
“That does sound nice, doesn’t it? Why don’t you come with me then?” Fuck, I hadn’t expected that answer. But before I can think of another response, or lie, Saint saves me.
“Hey, Sage, are you going to help me today with that install at the garage?” Mira and I turn to the laundry room door to see Saint leaning in with his hands resting on the door frame. After practically drooling at the bit of skin that shows from his shirt rising up, I turn to Mira.
“Oh, yeah. I promised I would help the guys finish an install on a bike they’re building. You know the guys don’t have a clue what they’re doing.” I nudge Mira, who laughs her deep belly laugh that always makes me smile.
“What would you boys do without my girl, huh?” Mira pats Saint’s chest before leaving the laundry room.
“If you need me to come back, sweetheart, please call me. I love you. Have fun showing those boys how it’s done!” I respond with a “love you” back, and Saint and I wait for the sound of the door closing as we hold each other’s stare. Then, when the door finally clicks closed, Saint pounces on me like an animal attacking his prey.