Chapter 18 #2
As he walks to the windows, I admire his musculature and the way he ripples and flexes with every movement of opening the heavy drapes while leaving the lighter sheer curtains closed, allowing moonlight to spill into the room.
“Guess we’ll find out.” His playful smirk surprises me because Saint is always so serious. So deadly. His softer side has only ever surfaced for me, making more appearances lately. Holding out his hand, I instantly take it, and he pulls me closer. “You’re in the shadows now.”
Confused, I ask, “Shadows?”
His hands reach for the hem of my shirt, pulling it up to my belly button, and I hold my breath, waiting for his answer.
“They won’t be as prominent, hidden by the shadows.”
My breath catches, but this moment feels surreal. Saint is not only showing me he understands the insecurities; he’s giving me the chance to release them. To forget they exist by making it easier to accept that they don’t define me. Not wholly.
I give him a short nod, and he pulls the shirt up all the way, my arms following as he removes it from my body, dropping it to the side.
“Gorgeous.” His gaze is sure to roam up and down my frame, never stopping or lingering on any spot for too long. I know he’s likely memorized my entire body. He’s seen, felt, kissed the scars, but he still doesn’t care.
Feeling brave, I reach forward to hook my fingers in his last remaining garment, sliding them past his thighs to fall to his feet before looking down.
I take in a sharp breath and squirm as I see how hard he is, how large he is, and he’s slowly leaking tiny pearls of cream that roll down the thick length of his shaft.
Hesitantly, my hand reaches forward to touch him, pausing before my fingers make contact. Saint grips my wrist and guides me the rest of the way forward. Not controlling how or where, just encouraging me to continue.
Sliding the tip of a finger across his slit, he lets out a hiss like he’s in pain. My eyes flick up to see that his are closed, and he’s biting into his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.
“Saint?”
His lids slide up a small bit to take me in.
“Don’t stop,” he growls, his hand on my hip tightening as he releases my wrist and curls his hand around the back of my neck.
“Having your hands on me is a fucking dream come true, sweet haven.” Lifting his other hand, he sifts his fingers through my hair at the scalp and holds me to his chest, breathing heavily as my fingers trace along his hardness.
I circle him with both hands, slowly working them up and down his shaft, using his leaking as lubricant.
“Tighter,” he encourages, pressing his face into the side of mine and kissing me everywhere he can reach.
I do as he asked and get the response, “Fuck, that feels good.”
Squeezing my hands, I feel how his veins pulse under my touch. Throbbing and ready for release, he reaches down to strangle his balls and the base of his shaft while I continue to work him.
“Lake,” he groans as I feel a spurt land on my stomach. “Oh fuck, yeah, hang on.” Mashing our bodies together, Saint makes a mess between us as I continue stroking him until he’s sated.
Finishing on a long moan, he wastes no time picking me up and tossing me into the middle of the bed. Momentarily stealing my breath until he follows and settles between my legs, his face mere inches away from my sex.
“This okay?”
Immediately affirming him, he leans down to lick up my center so tenderly that I cry out, my back bowing off the bed, hands gripping the blankets, and eyes slammed shut tight. The pleasure of Saint touching me, tasting me, is so incredibly overwhelming that I’m buzzing.
“Oh god, Saint, please. More, more, more. Please.” I don’t know the first thing about sex, but I know that with the right person, it should always be amazing, and it’s beyond that with Saint.
“Anything you want.” His lips moving against mine sends shivers through my body that are almost painful. But it’s the addicting, you-know-something-great-is-about-to-happen kind of pain.
When his lips envelop my clit, and his teeth scrape the bundle of nerves, he’s forced to hold me down because my body tries to eject me from the bed as a scream is torn from my throat, and an orgasm so powerful I nearly black out takes hold.
His fingers prop my thighs wide open while pinning me down as I descend from the high. “Delicious,” he grumbles as our eyes meet, and the evidence of my pleasure on his beard makes me flush red with embarrassment.
Climbing up my body, he drops little kisses on each nipple and then on either side of my neck before taking my lips and devouring me while I taste myself on his tongue.
It’s when his body lowers onto mine that I freeze up, and panic bubbles inside my chest. Saint knows, though.
He must feel it because he’s quick to draw back and roll us onto our sides.
Cupping my jaw in his hand, he waits until I focus on him before saying, “We can stop. We can do anything you want, Lake.”
Slowly breathing deeply in and out a few times brings my body back to earth. “I want more,” I say honestly. “It’s your weight that my body reacted to before I could process.”
Sliding his thumb gently across my lips, his face softens. “That’s okay, we’ll go as slow as you need until you’re comfortable.”
I smile at him and sit up, pushing him to his back. Or rather, he moves in the direction I’m silently asking for. With a swing of my leg over his hips, I settle onto his lap and stare down at him, the heat in his gaze a stark reminder that he wants us only to combust together.
“I like this view.” His fingers inch up my sides until he cups a breast in each hand, rolling my hard nipples between his fingers and pinching just enough that a zing of pleasure tugs at my core, and I moan for more.
Giggling at the admiration on his face and in his words, my hips swirl, and feeling him stiff between my legs is foreign but inviting. Intriguing me, I slide up and down, back and forth, my slickness easing the movements.
“Ah fuck,” Saint groans, grasping the bed frame above his head. “You feel amazing.” His praise bolsters my confidence while also causing me to worry he’s in pain, given how the veins in his straining neck bulge and pulse.
“Does it hurt?” I coast my hands across his sweaty, tense chest.
“Fuck no.” His growl makes me think otherwise.
“Will it hurt if I put it in?”
Sinking his teeth into his lower lip, Saint reaches for my hips, sliding his hands around and gripping my ass cheeks in each palm. He lifts me up, sits up himself to take my lips in a luscious kiss while guiding my body so his tip is at my entrance.
Oh so slowly, he slips it in, stuffing me with just the tip of him as he draws back, our eyes meeting, and lets me lower at my own pace. The gradual slide feels heavenly once I’m completely settled on top of him.
“I like this,” I confess.
Rubbing his hands up my back, Saint buries his face in my chest, kissing side to side and suckling my flesh as I wiggle and move, gauging the real feel of him inside of me for the first time.
“If you don’t stop this, it’ll be over before we start, sweet haven.”
It’s then that I remember Saint has never done this either. While I’m technically not a virgin, having that taken from me, this is the first time I’ve been with a man because I want to.
Brushing my lips against his ear, my whispered, “But then we can start again,” causes his fingers to dig into my back where he’s holding me tight. “Lay back, let me please you this time.”
“Christ, woman.” He sucks on the side of my breast, and I smile, knowing he’s likely left a mark. But then he does as told, keeping his hands on my thighs as I start to move.
His eyes briefly close before focusing back on my face.
Nothing needs saying as I begin moving, our pleasure growing to a boiling point, and the tingle from before returns, only stronger this time.
Building and flowing through my veins and limbs.
Euphoria explodes, and I cry out as Saint holds me in place while thrusting up into me, chasing his own release while amplifying mine.
We explode in a frenzy of sweat and sweet words, and he holds me to his chest as I collapse against him. Kissing the top of my head, rubbing his hands all over my body, and helping me ease back into myself.
“You’re beautiful when you come apart like that.” His baritone is melodic and filled with his own ecstasy.
“We’re beautiful.” I slur my murmured words as exhaustion takes hold, and I fall asleep with Saint still hard inside me, experiencing a quiet peace that’s been missing for so many years.