Page 30 of Moonlit Temptation

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.

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