Page 13 of Silent Night

He slides two fingers inside me, spreading them slightly, curling against the most sensitive part of me, and right when I think the sensation can’t get any better, his mouth covers me, his tongue flat against my clit. He laps at me languidly, matching the torturous pace of his fingers’ thrusts.

“Fuck.”I fist the blanket, pulling it up to my face because if he’sonly just begun and I haven’t orgasmed yet, I’ll need something to muffle my scream before Bentley hears me.

“Let me hear you,” he mumbles against my core before his unhurried licks continue. “Scream if you must. Maybe it’ll teach that stepbrother of yours to leave you alone.”

Or have him running in here, ending this.I can’t even think about how Bentley would react to find this stranger in my bed.

Probably with more sense than I am.

My care for all things other than Saint disappears with his next lick. My eyes slide shut, my hand reaching for his hair. His free hand instead snaps up, grabbing my wrist before I can make full contact with his hair. He pins it to the side.

“If you’re goin’ to degrade yourself with me, if you want to be a stranger’s whore, you have to do it properly. No touching. No control.”

His licks grow into nips, teasing my clit until the response I had to his latest comment slips away into the night, and he’s all I’m able to focus on. My insides clench with my building desire, my stomach clenching with the impending wave readying to sweep me away.

His fingers curl, pressing into a wicked spot inside me that covers my vision with white lights, like the ones on the tree downstairs, and I can’t hold back any longer.

“Come for me, sweet girl. Hand yourself to me, Hayley.”

My orgasm hits hard—harder than any in the past, but I won’t focus on that fun fact—and I turn my head into the pillow to muffle my sounds as much as possible. No matter what Saint said, I don’t want Bentley to hear my depravity.

He doesn’t let up, even as my pussy clamps down on his fingers and wave after wave rushes through me. His licks slow, sucking everything coming from me, but his fingers continue their delicious pace.

Just when I’m finally coming down, his fingers slide from me, granting me two seconds of reprieve before he’s yanking my thighsaround his head and pressing his open mouth to me, his tongue sinking inside me.

“Saint.”

He growls into my core, his palms clamping tighter on my thighs as he ensures I can’t escape his torture. His tongue fucks me rapidly, occasionally slipping out to flick at my swollen clit before entering me once more.

He’s relentless until I come again, his name on my lips, my thighs clenching his head.

With heavy pants, my thighs finally relax enough to drop to the side as Saint lowers my hips back to the bed and crawls up my body. He’s fully dressed still, and his hard erection beneath his jeans brushes against my stomach.

“You taste as delicious as I imagined. Fuck, if only I could bottle you up and take you with me.”

Before I can come up with a good enough response, his hand encompasses my throat to turn me to face him and he slashes his mouth across mine for our first kiss, frenzied and messy with an angry passion.

He tastes like me, and I can’t help but part my lips, allowing him to kiss me deeper, harder, to imprint himself onto me in a way no man has ever managed to in the past. Hell, in a way I’ve neverwantedbefore.

I slide my arms around his neck to keep him in position as I lift my hips and arch into him, urging him to continue, to finish what he’s started.

With a sinful chuckle, he pulls away but keeps his hand on my throat, putting just enough pressure to make him impossible to ignore. “You’d be so easy to break, sweet girl. So, so easy. Letting a stranger in your bed without knowing anything about him is a risky thing.”

I meet his gaze, mine challenging when I counter, “Your name is Saint. You rob people’s homes because you need the money. You’re transient, never in one place for long. Despite all that, you’re also a good person.”

“A good person.” He isn’t smirking like usual. “What makes you so sure?”

“You could have hurt me but you didn’t.”

“So you think pain is the only sign of a man’s goodness?” His fingers constrict around my throat, but still not tight enough to hurt. More like he’s trying to prove he’s still in control. “Why would I harm you when you’re living proof of why greed is a sin?”

It’s a strange statement with a meaning that passes over my head, but regardless, it steals my breath, makes my mind whirl to come up with a response.

“If you’re greedy, why not just take me?”

His hand sweeps down my thigh, his touch heavy on my hip. Possessive. He pulls me to him and my legs wind his waist. “Maybe I’m trying to not be too selfish. I could grow addicted to you if I let myself.”

The concept of being this man’s drug sounds too good, too right—even when what he said is true. This could be a horribly bad idea.

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