Chapter 5
The door barely clicked shut before I was shoved against it. All thoughts fled as my hands pressed against the cool metal and Saint’s body sunk into my backside.
Hard, sinewy muscles caged me in. A cage I didn’t want to escape from.
Until—
“What do you think you’re doing?” was all but growled in my ear.
Saint. Did. Not. Sound. Happy.
My eyes widened, any beat of lust froze as panic consumed me. “Saint, I–”
What do I even say? I’m so sorry I dragged you in here in hopes that all those stolen and covert looks my mischievous brain convinced you gave me were real? That I actually believed you wanted to have sex with me? That I thought you might’ve seen me as anything other than Archer’s sister?
Was I so deprived of affection that I packed meaning behind innocent touches and simple stares?
My racing temptress heart felt like lead in my chest, pumping with mortification. Only for that feeling to intensify when I registered how rigid Saint was behind me.
The door under my palms felt more pliable than his body right now, as tension rolled off him in violent waves, making the baby hairs on the back of my neck stand in attention.
With my heart in my throat, I looked behind me. Immediately wishing I hadn’t. Saint looked tortured. With hardened features and a tight jaw, he looked like a statue in a museum. Except statues didn’t have a muscle in their cheek twitch with how tight they clenched their teeth.
“Saint,” I tried again, my mind blank of any other words. Briefly, I thought about asking him what was wrong, that I only pulled him in here to watch a movie but that wasn’t true. And for once I couldn’t bring myself to lie.
I wanted this. I wanted him to give into this temptation that had been swirling between us all night. I wanted him to want me.
“I shouldn’t be here,” his voice sounded strained, like he had to claw the words out from the depths of his throat. “I should go.”
“Saint—”
His hands curled into tight fists against the door, and he sucked in a tense breath. “What are you doing to me?”
My heart clenched at the anguish packed into those words. He sounded tortured, like this was strangling him from the inside out.
“I’m not doing anything. You’re the one pushing me up against the door.” Leaving only imaginary space between us, I silently added.
“ Fuck, I need to go.”
If he walked out the door right now, I don’t think I’d ever recover.
But I wasn’t going to force him to stay. I started to push against the wall, to break free of the frozen stupor Saint found himself in. But he didn’t budge, so I was pressed against his chest.
Close enough to feel a long, thick bulge against my back.
Oh my God.
Saint was turned on.
Saint was turned on for me.
Heat consumed me immediately. From my already racing heart to the dip in my lower stomach, to the wetness between my legs–I burned. All from a single graze.
Every single delusion I carried with me over the night, the lingering touches, the unbridled stares, they weren’t just in my head.
They were real.
Saint’s dick digging into my backside was very much real.
Holy…
“I thought you wanted to go,” I managed to say when he didn’t move away.
“I do. I should,” he swallowed, thickly. And the shuddered expression over his features waned. Desire stared back at me.
With nothing left but searing friction between my thighs, a hope, and a horny prayer, I rocked back into him, rolling my hips in a slow, sensual motion. “So go.”
His dick twitched against my ass, and my pussy clenched as he crowded in closer, my tight nipples kissing the cool metal of the door. The only part of me finding some relief.
I felt the war battling against my back. The inner turmoil rolled off Saint in waves. He wanted this. For whatever magical reason, he wanted this. He wanted me.
But he was holding himself back.
“Leave, Saint,” I forced myself to say. I wasn’t going to beg him to stay. “Leave so I can find someone else?—”
He spun me around so fast the room blurred. “Is that what you want, Madelayne? To find someone else?”
His deep green gaze seared me to the spot.
Slowly, I shook my head.
“Now this time with your words.”
“No, that’s not what I want.”
His gaze coasted over my body at a slow, unhurried pace. He brought his face close to mine. The warm smell of amber and cinnamon engulfed my senses, his nose almost brushing mine.
“Is this what you want?” His fingers trailed up my thigh, digging into my skin. “What you’ve been dangling in front of me all night?”
His teeth sunk into the shell of my ear and I arched against him, giving a shaky, “Y-yes.”
The bite was almost punishing. I just wasn’t sure if it was directed at him or at me.
It didn’t stop the wanton need from throbbing between my legs, though.
“Is that right?” He punctuated his question by moving his hands higher up my thighs, slipping beneath the hem of my dress while skating his fingers over the outline of my panties. “Was that your plan all along? Why you invited me out tonight?”
“No.”
“Liar,” he hissed, as he dragged his nose down my throat, his teeth grazing over the sensitive flesh where my shoulder met my neck.
Wetness slicked my thong.
Saint was touching me. He was more than touching me. He was memorizing me. It felt like my heart would beat out of my chest with how fast it was racing.
“All I would have to do is move my fingers a little bit over to feel how wet you are for me.” He teased a path. A ghost-like touch teasing me in places that demanded friction.
“Why don’t you find out?” I practically begged, squirming my hips.
Still under my dress, Saint’s hands sunk into my waist with a tormented grip, halting any movement.
His breath was labored, and his eyes no longer gleamed with a wicked delight but darkened with a hungry ferocity that stole my breath. His darkened gaze looked from me to the door, a muscle in his cheek throbbing, and something pierced my heart.
“Saint, if you walk out that door right now, it’ll break my heart. You’re the only person who’s never broken it.”
His eyes snapped back to me immediately. Radiating a danger that seduced the darkest parts of my psyche. His gaze flicked from me, to my lips.
“Fuck it,” he said, before crashing his mouth against mine in the most soul-searing kiss in the history of kisses.
It was kinetic. It felt like coming home. Like the broken pieces inside of me were mending. It felt like everything I had always hoped it to be, and more.
Because it was finally happening.
I gasped into his mouth, and he was the greedy bastard who swallowed it as he linked our fingers together and pulled them above my head. Leaving me at his mercy as his lips introduced themselves to mine.
It was gentle in the way a man like Saint knew how to be, full of demanding intent as he pulled me tightly against him.
Fireworks exploded behind the touch and my knees almost gave out. My fingers found a home around Saint’s belt loops, holding on for dear life as he devoured me.
I dreamt of this moment. Had wished for it on all the stars in the galaxy. And now it was actually happening.
I leaned into him, the sound of my pulse filling my ears. My lips answered back, a needy hum passing through them.
Don’t mess this up, Novak!
My heart pounded with the fear he would pull away.
But with every brush, every sample, the hunger between us grew and my chest filled like a balloon waiting to pop.
My brother’s best friend had me pinned to the door.
My brother’s best friend was kissing me.
I touched myself, got myself off to scenarios not far from this.
He awakened a wildfire within my soul. The flames burned brighter, grew higher with every shift of his lips, every stroke of his tongue.
A kaleidoscope of emotions exploded inside me. Heaven at it finally happening, Hell that he was going to pull out of whatever cloud had taken over his mind.
Not that I had to worry about that happening anytime soon…
My mouth opened beneath his, tongue tangling with his.
If this was a dream, don’t wake me up and if this was reality, keep me locked in here forever.
He nipped my lip and I let out a sound I didn’t know lived inside of me.
That. I wanted more of that . This. This feeling he cracked open.
“Fuck, Mady.” Saint’s hips pressed into mine, and his erection rubbed against my stomach.
I’m on fire.
His lips were back on mine while his hips ground into my body. He dropped my hands to latch onto my hips, where he moved them to the tempo he desired against his.
The way he handled my body had my desire climbing.
His fingers slid up my thighs, pulling the hem of my dress up. Higher and higher, my heart rate climbed with it.
Cool air hit my core as Saint continued to slowly roll my dress, exposing inch by inch of me at a meticulous speed. He dropped kisses down my neck, my chest, as he sank onto his knees.
Staring up at me, he continued to coax my dress higher, until he reached the band of my thong. Without breaking eye contact, he pressed a hard kiss right above it. I jolted with the surprise contact.
My body was on hyperdrive, wanting so many things all at once.
But my tongue wasn’t working as I felt his teeth graze my skin around the elastic of my panties, and I stared with wide eyes as he used his teeth to snap it against my skin.
I breathed out a curse that had a sinful smile playing upon his lips.
“What’re you doing to me?” I rasped in shaky breaths.
He didn’t answer as he continued to take off my dress, now planting open-mouthed kisses along my skin as he traveled upward.
Moved dress, kissed skin. Moved dress, kissed skin.
A pattern that felt more than it was.
The kisses weren’t just decadent, weren’t only heart pounding. They were a warning. A sign.
They got harder the farther they traveled, sucking at more and more skin.
Marking me.
Saint was marking me.
And I was the innocent lamb who wanted to wear his brand for all to see.
I should’ve been nervous, maybe a little self-conscious, about how he was unveiling me for his eye. But I wasn’t.
My body responded to him in a way that ignited not only under his touch but his heated stare, his sinful lips.
I was the present for him to unwrap on my birthday.
When he reached my breasts, he was no longer in the mood for taking his time. With a fast pull, the dress was off me and soaring across the room, leaving me in nothing but my bra, panties, and combat boots.
He stopped, studying me.
Unflinching, unmoving, he stared and stared at my exposed body. Watching as my alabaster skin reddened under his sensual appraisal.
I wondered what he’d do if he saw all of me…
Before I could make a move to finish the job and find out, enjoying the hunger that gleamed in Saint’s dark eyes, he stopped me by saying, “Take them off.”
He said it like an order, and just like when we were outside the bar, I found myself wanting to follow it. I found myself wanting to listen. Wanting to please Saint.
But I wanted his punishment more.
I pasted on what I hoped was a seductive smile and leaned into his chest. He didn’t move as I stretched up on my toes, leaning into his swollen, talented lips. “Want them off?”
I slipped around him, away from the door and into the room. Looking over my shoulder, I noticed he was ramrod straight, mouth firm and fists clenched. “Come take them off.”
“Fucking tease.” He chuckled, but it was one that promised retribution would soon follow.
“I just want—” A squeal escaped as he grabbed me, pulling me against him and capturing my mouth with his.
His hands sank into my hair, weaving his fingers through the strands. Pulling with enough force to earn my attention, he watched me with a hard stare. “You just wanted what?”
You. “You.”
“You shouldn’t.”
“But I do anyway.”
“Fuck, Mady,” he rasped, chest heaving. “If only you knew. If only you had a fucking clue of what kind of man I actually am. I’d be the last guy you want then.”
I touched his face, and he sank into the touch. “I see you, Saint. I’ve always seen you, and it’s never made me want you any less.”
“This can’t go anywhere.”
“I don’t want it to,” I lied through my bleached teeth. “I just want it here.”
“No one can know about it.”
I nodded, at least agreeing on that. Not that I had anyone to tell. Not that I would if I did. Saint had always been someone I wanted to keep to myself.
I reached for his tie.
Time for him to get on my naked level.
“I mean it, Madelayne.” He caught my hands before they made contact, face still stoic. Eyes heavy as he waited to surrender. To give into this temptation.
“I do, too, Saint. Just tonight. That’s all I want.”
“It’s all you can have,” he corrected, punctuating his words with a soul-sucking kiss. My toes curled and I grabbed his neck, wanting to pin him down for more when he broke away.
His attention was now elsewhere. On my still bra-covered girls, to be exact.
“What was it you told me?” he asked, staring down at my chest. “If I wanted it, I had to do it myself?”
Saint didn’t wait for an answer before his hands snuck around my body and masterfully undid my bra.
It fell to the floor between us, but we paid it no mind. Saint’s attention was fully on my bare chest while mine remained helplessly on him.
He looked like a man on death row, and I was his last meal on earth. Not sure if he should savor or devour me. Or both.
My breasts felt heavy cradled in his palms as gave them each a squeeze, his thumbs flicking the pert nipples.
I gasped. He smirked, doing it again. And again, watching as my eyes melt with desire.
I didn’t know my boobs could be so sensitive, so responsive to the way Saint massaged them, but I was pressing against him. Wanting to grab him and demand more.
Request all of it.
All of him.
Relief. I needed relief.
I needed “ Saint…”
The bastard smiled before his arms pulled me closer, his mouth suctioning one of my nipples.
I pressed against him, feeling how hard he’d gotten in his pants. He sucked to the point of pain, but it was the kind of pain that had me reaching up to hold the back of his head, pushing him closer.
More, more, more.
Curious fingers brushed against the strain of his pants, and Saint pushed his hips forward.
Pulling his mouth away, he said, “You can touch me.”
With frantic, sloppy movements, Saint made quick work of undoing his pants, letting them fall to his ankles.
I swallowed at the strain protruding from his tight boxer briefs.
“Fuck, Mady. With a look like that, you’re going to make me beg.”
“Maybe I want you to.” Saint begging would be a sight to see.
“Touch me, baby girl,” he growled.
Licking my lips, I reached into his waistband and pulled him out.
Long and girthy enough to know he’d stretch me wide upon entering, I was in rapture as I held his heavy heat in my palm.
“Show me how much you want this dick inside you.”
I felt Saint’s stare as I wrapped my fist around him, but I couldn’t tear my gaze away from watching the thick veins that ran down his length disappear under my hand. He felt solid and moldable at the same time. His hips jerked as I tightened my grip, licking my lips as pre-cum sprouted from his swollen tip.
Not stopping myself, I sank to my knees and licked it.
Saint hissed as the salty taste coated my tongue. Heat exploded between my legs and I squeezed my thighs together in search of friction.
I just licked Saint Delacore’s dick. I just tasted Saint Delacore’s cum.
I just licked the cum off my brother’s best friend’s dick and I wanted to do it again.
So I did, eliciting a muffled moan from his throat before he pulled me back up. The noise filled me with confidence and turned me on further as I moved my hand along his shaft.
“Take your boots off, Madelayne.” Back was that authoritative tone. Only this time, I was almost trance-like as I slipped one shoe off, then the other. “Now your panties.”
My thumbs hooked into the waistband and like he teased me with taking off my dress, I teased him with taking these off.
Feigning modesty, I spun around so he had my back, shimmying my hips as I moved the underwear down my thighs, bending over as I slipped them off.
Fully naked, fully exposed, and locked in a hotel room with my brother’s best friend.
The man I wanted more than anything else in this world.
I flung them across the room, but before I stood back up, I felt Saint press into me from behind. His cock slid between my cheeks. I shivered as he rocked back and forth, back and forth.
“You like teasing me, Madelayne? You like knowing this cock is hard for you?” He reached around my front and grabbed my throat, pulling me flush against his chest. “Answer me, Mady.”
I almost didn’t, curious to see what he’d do if I stayed silent.
“Maybe,” I admitted, enjoying the effect I had on his body more than playing coy. There was no time for that when I was about to get everything I’d wanted.
Sex. Saint. Me.
Me. Saint. Sex.
Saint and me having sex.
“I don’t like to be teased.” He squeezed my throat with one hand while his other reached between my legs. “Fuck, but you do. You’re so wet, Madelayne. So damn wet for me.”
He sucked on my shoulder, teeth piercing skin as he slipped a finger inside at the same time he squeezed my neck. “Fuck, you’re tight as hell,” he rasped as I arched against him, my arm finding a home around the back of his neck.
“Hmmm,” he hummed against my skin, repeating the motions again, only this time with more pressure, adding another finger inside me.
A squeak escaped as I stretched up on my toes. Pain mixed with pleasure as I felt myself quiver against his fingers.
I felt myself stretching, so full with only two fingers inside me.
For a brief moment, I wondered how we were ever going to do this. I was so small and he was so large.
“You can take it,” he said, as if sensing my thoughts, slowly sliding his shaft between my bare cheeks. I shivered.
With his hand firmly on my throat, the edges of my vision turned hazy as I rolled my hips against his hand, his shaft.
Oh my God. Oh my God. This was everything.
My body started to shake and I closed my eyes. Fuck me. This felt better than a toy. Felt better than my hand. I felt Saint everywhere. Against every atom in my system.
I tried to fight it, to hold out longer. For more. But Saint knew it and decided to torture me further.
With expert fingers, he played with my clit. I sank into his body, my knees weakened.
Flicking, pinching, twisting, he drove me mad. I was a withering mess in his arms until he hit the sweet spot that had my muscles locking up, only to melt into putty when I let out his name in a scream.
Saint, Saint, Saint.
When I came down, I barely had enough time to open my eyes before he was ordering, “Get on the bed.”
Still feeling him between my legs, I obeyed. Feeling his stare burn a blazing arrow into my back, leaving the space between my shoulder blades tight.
There was this need that refused to subside, to catch its breath.
The second my knees brushed the mattress, Saint’s patience snapped and he was on me. Pushing me onto the bed, pressed against me. For a moment, that was all there was. Our bodies close as our breaths filled the room.
Testing. Waiting. Wondering.
Was this the end?
The start?
Would we continue or have reality crash down on us?
When the door shut, so did the outside world. Trapping us in a warped reality where me and Saint could be together.
I never wanted to leave. Locked in a posh London hotel with a fallen Saint.
His lips brushed between my shoulder blades, slow and open-mouthed. He moved at an agonizing pace as he trailed up my back, marking my skin with lips that remained imprinted even after he moved on.
“I’m not gentle,” he warned.
“I don’t want you to be.”
Saint brushed the hair off my neck, and my fists gripped the sheets. “You’re so pretty on your hands and knees, baby girl. So pretty, waiting for me to fuck you.”
He wanted this as much as I did.
Knowing that ignited a flame deep inside me, in my veins, and I turned around to kiss him the same time Saint’s arms lined up with mine, his fingers enclosed over mine, gripping the sheets with me.
Caging me in. But what he didn’t realize was I didn’t need a cage. There was nowhere I’d rather be. Nowhere I’d escape to.
“Last chance, Madelayne. Tell me you don’t want this,” he murmured against my lips.
I shook my head. “I can’t.”
Wouldn’t. The little liar of her family finally learned how to tell the truth and couldn’t share it with anyone but the man on top of her.
Saint captured my mouth in answer, our fates sealed like the history of this city, only to pull back with a hand running down my spine.
“So beautiful,” he murmured, more to himself than for me, before his hand made its way to my nonexistent ass for a squeeze.
I was putty under his hands as he positioned me the way he wanted.
Knees farther apart on the bed, ass up, my forehead resting on shaking arms. It was so slight, I hoped he couldn’t tell the way my body moved with a tremor, mixed with nerves and excitement. Of wonder and trepidation.
It was happening.
Finally happening.
And I didn’t want to forget a second of it.
I couldn’t see what Saint was doing, trapped with only feeling. Listening. The slight whisper of his body shifting, the feel of his hands on my skin. Jolting when I felt his teeth nip at the smooth curve of my butt.
“Saint,” I cried through clenched teeth. “Fuck me already.”
His laugh brushed against my skin. “If this is the only night I get to have you, I’m not letting anything go to waste.”
It doesn’t have to be. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from blurting that out. No promises. No future. Nothing but tonight and this room.
“Saint,” I panted, sounding desperate, needing help—needing him to ease the ache of his creation. “Please.”
I’d never been one to beg, but I would for him. With him.
His fingers bruised my skin as he finally stopped playing with my body like an engine.
My heart hammered in my chest. This was it, this was it, this was it.
All the years, all the buildup, all the longing. It had all been leading to this moment.
As he entered my body, sliding in at a torturously slow pace, I knew. Knew this was my end. My beginning. My damnation.
He was the fall and I was anxious to leave Eden.
“Fuck.” Saint’s voice was strained. “You’re so tight, so fucking tight.”
I tried to keep my muscles relaxed as he fit himself inch by inch inside me, but the pain of him stretching me had my eyes watering, my teeth digging into my arm.
“You’re doing so good, baby girl. So tight and wet and perfect,” he growled into my ear. “You feel so good wrapped around my cock. Keep choking it.”
His breathing was heavy, mine was pained. With one fast and final thrust, he was fitted to the hilt. There was no going back now.
Saint was inside me. Inside his best friend’s younger sister. He knew how tight I was, what I tasted like.
With great effort, I lifted my head to peer over my shoulder at him.
He hated himself a little bit.
But not enough to stop.
Eyes locked on me, Saint started moving in teasing, shallow strokes. Getting me used to his size. “That’s it, baby. Look how well you take me. Just like that. Fuck, you feel so good.”
Preening under his praise, I wanted more. “Harder, Saint. Please, harder.”
It was the thing he needed to hear to start moving. Thrusting inside me with a vigor, a passion that robbed my breath and filled me with fire. Burning me from the inside out with every thrust.
I couldn’t help but feel that was the perfect symbolism for Saint and I. Pain to the point of pleasure.
Maybe that was why he was the crush I couldn’t let go of. I liked how it hurt. An addict who couldn’t get enough.
And if I was an addict before, it had nothing on me now.
Having him inside me, moving inside me, it was soon all I could focus on.
His grunts, his thrusts. The pained and tortured and blissed expression on his face. Like he was in Heaven and hated it. Hated that he felt this way.
I kind of hated it, too.
It was too good to only be for a night.
We barely began and already I knew it wasn’t enough.
“Saint,” I cried as he pulled out, twisting my body into a new position. One that was more to his liking and had my vision dancing with dots of light.
His lips crashed into my shoulder, teeth grazing up my skin to my throat, to my jaw. His hands were anchored on my hips, keeping them where he liked. Where he was able to drive me wild as he drilled into me with the force of powered machinery.
Where I felt nothing, thought nothing, wanted nothing but him.
Saint, Saint, Saint.
His name was a chant, a prayer, a curse.
Saint, Saint, Saint.
I yearned to touch him, feel him. Mark him like he was marking me. But it was like he could see it on my face, in my eyes. With one hand leaving my hips, he grabbed my hands before I could move them an inch.
Tied around the wrists by his fingers, he raised my arms above our heads, stretching me out into yet another position.
God, the feel of him between my legs was delicious in a way I didn’t know existed. Could exist.
“Fuck, Madelayne. Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he growled the words with lust and loathing. They mixed together in a deadly concoction.
“Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
Despite the rough way he was moving inside me, the iron grip he was holding me with, Saint pressed the most delicate kiss on my forehead, my nose, and finally my lips.
“Not even a thought in my mind, little dove.”
My overdriven mind short-circuited with the touch. It was such a contrast to everything about him–rough and primal, hard edges and possessive touches–that I felt my body falling. No. Finishing meant it was over and I wasn’t ready for that.
Saint pushed my wrists into the mattress, my eyes snapping to his. “Let go,” he whispered with the authority of a command. “I’m long from being done with you.”
I shook my head, though I didn’t think I could stop the feelings that were piling up inside me.
Saint ducked his head down and captured my bottom lip between his teeth. He bit and tugged as his hands dropped my wrists and cupped my breasts. They were heavy under his hands.
“Let go,” he commanded again. Louder, firmer.
I did.
I came with his name rasping between my lips. Saint quickly followed, his hips pinned to mine as he buried his face in my neck, and I swore my name escaped as he did.
I closed my eyes. All the energy had been zapped out of me. I couldn’t even bother opening them as I felt Saint roll off me and heard him shuffling around the room. I was acutely aware of water running, but I just lay on the bed useless and lost in the lingering ecstasy of what we did.
I knew Saint had returned when I felt a warm, damp cloth press between my legs. His touch was gentle, if not carefully meticulous, as he cleaned me up.
It was the softest, kindest gesture that had my heart swelling three sizes as he finished and wrapped me in his arms.
As I turned into his chest, I couldn’t stop myself from wondering how long these feelings were going to last.
After all, we only promised each other one night.
Too bad for my heart, I was lying.