Chapter 35 #2
His entire body shudders when my nails draw down the ridges of his abs, but my gaze is drawn to his side, my muscles locking up. “Saint. You’re bleeding!” I gasp, spotting the bandages on one side seeping through.
“You think these wounds are going to stop me fucking my woman?”
They probably should, but instead, I shake my head. Although, seeing as he’s been getting one up on me from the moment I walked in the door, I let a little wicked streak slip through. “Not stop, maybe just hinder your performance.”
Saint bites his bottom lip hard, and I know what he’s going to do; he’s going to fuck an apology out of me.
The man has bullet and stab wounds; I shouldn’t have even entertained this in the first place.
“I’m kidding!” I squeak, and his lips fight a smile as he pulls out of me, causing me to whimper. I don’t have time to miss the connection. He perches himself at the end of the bed, tugging my legs down the mattress.
My body moves on autopilot, straddling him as I hover over his thighs. The muscles in his bicep flex as he leans back on one arm, the other slapping my ass so hard, I know I have a handprint. “Hold my shoulders, sit on my dick, and shut the fuck up.”
Ah, I knew he was lurking around in there somewhere.
I sink down his length, throwing my head back when I meet his base and relish in his fullness. Saint growls as he watches me, dragging his words out. “Good girl.”
My hips rock as I work my way up and down his cock, the sting on my ass being soothed as he glides his palm up and down it to meet my movements.
“Fuck, take every fucking inch, Indie,” he groans, eyebrows bunched as he’s fixated on me. “I’ll never get enough of what you do to me.”
“Remember that when you think about leaving me,” I whisper, grinding back and forth.
His hand squeezes my ass. “I had good—”
His breath hitches when I lift my hips all the way up, stopping at his swollen head, and sinking all the way down.
“Fuuuck, baby,” he bites through his groan as I continue, throwing his head back as he grunts to the sky, “I’m sorry.”
My nails dig into his shoulders, and I drag one hand across his chest, leaving trails of red lines.
“I’ll only accept forgiveness on your knees.”
He huffs a laugh, tilting his hips to meet each of my tempos. “You want me on my knees?”
I bob my head, fighting the urge to pick up the speed. “I won’t say it twice.”
Saint rakes his teeth over his lip, shaking his head as he wraps his arms under my thighs, lifting us off the bed. He carries me through to the bathroom, leans against the counter, and he lowers me to my feet. And does exactly what I ask.
Featherlight kisses are traced from my neck as he whispers, “I’m sorry,” to my sternum.
“I’m sorry.” He stops just above that sensitive spot as he lowers completely to his knees.
“I’m so fucking sorry, my darling girl. Please, please fucking forgive me for hurting you. I only did it to protect you.”
Grey storm clouds plead up towards me, rumbling with a desire filled with sorrow, focused on me, and only me.
My hand grips his jaw, and I stare down at him as his hands ghost behind my thighs.
Saint on his knees, pleading with my name rolling off his lips is a sight I’ll never get out of my head.
The word please wrapped in its desperation has my chest exploding.
Now I know exactly how he feels when the roles are reversed, and I think I might get pissed at him every chance I get. “That’ll work,” I say wickedly, raising an eyebrow at him.
“You’re a demon,” he groans, getting to his feet. The wetness of his tongue travels up my stomach, stopping at my breasts to suck on a nipple, rolling the other between his fingers. His cock nuzzles against me, and my hands wrap around it, pumping him slowly as he bites and teases the peaks.
I feel like I’m on fire; the room feels like it’s crackling with air, waiting for lightning to strike, my walls painfully tight and ready to find release.
His hand reaches down to cup my pussy, slapping it to make me cry out, then he runs his knuckles through my slit. “Fuck, you’re drenched, baby. That’s what happens when you’ve got your man begging on his knees?”
My hips grind to meet his movements. “It may be my new favourite pastime.” My voice is husky, full of lust and need and everything that Saint Blackwood does to me. With his words, his eyes, that expert skill he fine-tuned just for my body.
He’s well and truly broken my mind. I live only for him. Now I know the true fear of what it could be like living without him, I’ll never let him go.
“I’ll beg whenever you need me to, Indie. Don’t think I’m above giving you whatever pleases you.” He kisses my forehead, a total contradiction to the way his free hand is roaming my naked body. “Makes you happy.”
His cock slips back inside me, hand reaching under my thigh, throwing it over the crevice of his arm as he fucks me again. I reach up and palm his chiselled jaw, looking him in the eyes as I whisper, “I love you with a wrath your fucking hell would be jealous of.”
Sweat glistens over both of our skin, pants of breath and cries filling the room as the slow and sensual pace from earlier is gone.
He fucks me like a man that’s lost his mind.
“Watch yourself in the mirror,” he hisses raggedly into my ear, tightening my body against him. “Remind yourself what it looks like to be mine.”
I whine out his name, staring at my reflection over his shoulder like he asked, madness welling in my eyes when I feel the waves crashing into me with a force that might drown me, dragging me under until darkness edges my vision as he soon follows me in, just like always.
“Because you are mine, baby.”
My cries are loud, and his thrusts are hard.
“All.” Thrust. “Fucking.” Thrust. “Mine.”