Page 29 of Moonlit Temptation

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.

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