CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
MASON
Saint’s body reels from the fact that I called him baby.
He lies primly on the bed, breathing raggedly with want.
Raw and intense warmth. He stretches his hand over his head and opens the nightstand.
He lifts the bottle of lube from the drawer and hands it to me.
I take it from him and set it aside. I don’t need it now.
“Have you ever been kissed here?” I place my hand on his ribcage.
“Baby, I have never been kissed anywhere. You’re the first man to kiss me.” His hands rest on my cheeks. I press a kiss to his heart and hear the sharp, consistent thud against his ribcage.
His heart beats for me. If only he knew he was sleeping with a liar. A fraud. A spy.
Betrayal scalds hot in my veins, but my trembling fingers caress the ink on his skin.
I won’t ruin this for him.
I can’t ruin this moment, not when it feels so real to me, too.
This isn’t the first time I have had sex or kissed someone, but this is the first time I’ve felt something truly real.
Something that pushes the boundaries of everything I have ever known.
My lips linger across his skin, and I take my time exploring every inch of him.
His hard nipples. Every fucking scar on him. The veins on his neck. His rigid packs leading up to his delicious V-line. I grip his thick dick in my hand and smile as I take him into my mouth.
This time, I don’t have to focus on anything else but him.
Because I want this, I’m into this.
I’m not making love with him simply because of a contract, or because I’m terrified of the consequences of Vincent’s threats to my life.
I’m doing this because I want him, and what even makes it better is that he wants me too.
Every single bit of me.
My dick hardens between my parted thighs, jutting and leaking pre-cum even though it’s barely an hour since I came down his throat.
His dick throbs hot and flustered in my mouth. Jerking as he fucks into the heat of my mouth in slow, measured thrusts. “That’s it. Give me more.” I plead.
His spine arches off the white sheets of the bed. I lift my gaze to him. And damn, he looks so fucking ruined. Ruined for me. Eyes dark, breath rough, restraint hanging by a thread.
I wrap my hand around his shaft, stroking and sucking his length, enjoying the way his composure cracks under my touch until he’s a whimpering mess.
I touch him tenderly.
Skin against skin, even as the sting of betrayal claws on my back.
What’s more important is now. I can figure out how to get around this later. After all, I have always survived, even though I’m terrified of the possibility of Saint ever understanding me.
I hold on to this feeling between us because it’s the only thing I have. It’s the only thing I have acknowledged since we left that prison.
My tongue rolls around the crown of his penis, over the urethral opening. My lips tug into a mischievous little grin as I watch him jerk and whimper at the pleasure he receives from me.
The gentle pleasure he deserves.
“Fuck, fuck.” He groans, and his head tips back slowly.
“That’s it, little devil. I’m only yours to ruin.
Only yours.” His words carry a heavy weight.
He whines under his breath. Voice thick with unbearable pleasure.
Then he cums, his hot release flooding my taste buds.
His fingers clench around the sheets of the mattress as he rides the intensity of the orgasm.
I lean in, nudging his legs apart, knees placed between his thighs. I drop my lips against his lips in a soft velvet kiss and smile at him.
“Do we need the lube now?” He asks.
“Be patient. We still have more time until daylight.”
“Don’t forget, we’re going to see the house before anything else today. I can come in late at work, I own the company.”
“I don’t mind that either.”
“Come on, let’s have a bath.” I get off the bed and regain my footing, extending my hand to him. He grunts as I pull him up, our chests colliding on impact as he kisses me one more time.
As we enter the bathroom, soft golden light spills across white marble floors.
A glass shower enclosure stands opposite the marble vanity, and a chrome-clawed bathtub sits closer to the floor-to-ceiling windows.
We slip into the glass enclosure, and I twist the knob, turning on the shower.
The warm water spills, rolling down our skin.
Saint laughs lowly. We stand opposite each other, but close.
He inches nearer and places his forehead against mine. “How are you feeling?” He asks.
“I had a great time, and I loved it.” I tell him. “And you? Did you like it?”
“Yes, I did.” His expression loosens with vulnerability. I bite my lower lip in contemplation. “Did you really mean it when you said you could end my uncle?”
“All I need is your command?” His gaze holds me steady, and his hands slide around my waist. My skin tickles with warmth, but it’s not enough to stop the confusion that desolates my thoughts.
Even if he takes him out, I have to face the consequences.
Whether I liked it or not, David still owes Vincent a debt I’m not aware of.
And if I end David’s life, that debt falls on my head.
I’m also not sure how Saint will take all of this, considering that my entire existence threatens his legacy.
“Hey, little devil. Only if you want me to.” His hand rests against my cheek and caresses tenderly.
I give him a tight-lipped smile and wrap my hands around his muscular frame, leaning into his broad chest.
After a while, we take turns washing each other, and then rinse off the soap suds. As I switch off the shower, he takes my hand, and he looks at me hopefully. “You’ll do great.” I reassure him.
When we return to the bedroom, he gets into the bed first, keeping his eyes on me.
The air between us twists thick with heat and tension.
I follow suit, taking the lube from the mattress.
“Hold your legs back.” I tell him. His hands slide around his thighs, and he lifts his legs backward, exposing himself to me.
A quick gasp escapes his lips when a drop of lube lands against his sensitive skin.
When my finger touches the spot, he quivers, pulse frantic with need.
I start slow, lubing up my finger and sliding into him easily. “Does it hurt?” I ask.
“No.” He hums. “Go deeper. I can take it.” A sultry moan escapes his lips.
I push in deeper, stroking gently. He chews on his bottom lip, and I apply more lube at his entrance, then slide in a second finger, stretching him carefully.
My fingers massage the nerves of his prostate, and a breathless moan leaves his lips.
“Fuck, that feels so good. I want more.” He whispers. Need devastates his deep voice.
Right now, he’s a fucking mess. My mess.
And I loved every bit of it.
I continue in the same rhythm while my other hand wraps around his thick dick, stroking over the glans tenderly. He arches and buckles into the mind-blowing pleasure.
“That’s it, baby.” I moan, face contorting with pleasure. “Look how desperate you are for me.” He whines and clenches around my fingers, dick jerking in my hand.
If someone told me I’d have a man like him under my control, that he’d come apart by my touch, I wouldn’t believe it.
He ran from me. Several times. But he’s here now, giving himself to me. Taking all of this willingly, and fuck, I love it. It makes me feel so powerful.
I love it even when I know I shouldn’t.
My body aches, and I wonder what it would be like to have permanence, but it’s too good to be true.
Boys like me don’t deserve things like this.
My fingers slip out of him, and he grunts in protest. “Hold steady.” I groan and place his left leg on my shoulder, fastening my hand around it.
I slide the water-based lube over my shaft, pumping slowly and reveling in the sensation.
I kneel closer, positioning myself at his entrance. “Tell me to stop if it hurts.”
“Ok.” He rumbles.
The crown of my dick pops into him, and I pause, waiting for him to adjust to the mix of pain and pleasure. Heat gathers in his eyes, and he matches the rhythm of my breathing as I push in deeper. “Are you all the way in?” His voice comes out rough and laced with tension.
“Only halfway through.” I smile at him. “You’ve got this.”
My pulse thuds as we inhale the same breath. The smell of the shampoo and soap still lingers on our skin.
Warmth spread sharply through my body as I sink into him.
“Fuck me, fuck.” He groans, closes his eyes and arches off the bed.
“Come on, baby.” I slide my hand around his head, and his eyes snap open with an urgent need. “You’ve got this.”
“I can take it.” He promises as I lean in and press a feathery kiss on his nose. I pull back and slide into him. His lips part, and his entire body shudders with pleasure.
“God, you’re so fucking beautiful.” He leans into my ear and whispers, eyes shining with a spark. And damn, his words break me apart. But deep down, I know the truth.
I roll my hips into him. Every stroke burns intensely. His hole clenches around me, and short, broken breaths drill out of his lungs as I make love to him.
I give him pleasure delicately. Carefully. Chasing the wild calm. Soaking up the warmth of our skin when our bodies come into contact. “More.” He groans and slides his legs around my waist, keeping me locked into his tight heat.
“Wrap your hand around your dick for me.”
“Anything you want, little devil.”
Skin bites against skin.
He leans closer and takes my lips in a kiss. And god, I love the way he kisses me.
Like he’s intoxicated with me. And it feels so good that it scares me.
It terrifies me to the core that I revel in this. That I want this. Burying myself deep into this dangerous man means that the little ray of sunshine I feel for him is real, and I’m too deep in a mess to feel anything.
I slow my thrusts, and he whines in protest, stroking himself needlessly. “You really want to torture me, don’t you?” I pull back and slam into him. “Shit.”
“How does that feel?”
“Out of this fucking world, baby.” He grins at me, expression set with need.
“I’m getting closer.” I murmur, lips close to his. I press another kiss against his lips. His shoulder. His forehead. Bit by bit, every kiss I drop on his skin elicits soft, pleasurable moans that unfurl something inside of me.
“Do not pull out.” He whispers, and my gaze meets him. He gives me a nod of affirmation to make sure I understand what he wants. Then he takes my lips in a kiss that steals every drop of breath from my lungs and sets every part of me on fire. Sweat breaks from my temple, rolling over my face.
Saint lets out a grunt as his hand slips free around his dick. Ropes of cum shoot across his chest and his abs from the intensity of pumping his dick in his hands. I dart out my tongue and swipe over his release, tasting salt and skin all over him.
My pace goes faster, and I look at the space between us, watching with a smirk on my lips as my dick glides in and out of him.
I inhale sharply, arching from the sensation as my body gives into the pleasure.
I keep going, chasing the high at a pace perfect for us both, until my release hits me.
His hand rests around my ass, and he holds me back from pulling out.
“It feels so fucking good.” He whispers and kisses me over and over. A soft, carefree giggle slips out of me.
“We’ll remain like this until morning?” I ask.
“Yes, that’s what I want.”
“Whatever you want, you get, baby.” I press another kiss against his skin. But even in the haze of pleasure and satisfaction, a quiet truth lingers at the back of my mind, beating like a drum. Maybe I can figure this out. That’s what I tell myself to keep the fear and uncertainty away.