Page 46 of Gilded Saint

Warmth covers my backside. Her warm body, skin on skin, presses from my ass up my back. Fingers lightly mix with water, tracing my ribcage, sucking out all the oxygen. Black and white dots mar my vision.

I blink back water, watching as long, graceful fingers travel down my abdomen. The light flickers on a narrow gold band. She reaches the base of my shaft, and then those fingers gently wrap around me.

All that is holy.

“What’re you doing?” I grit out as my hips involuntarily buck. Her grip tightens, and fuck if my knees don’t threaten to snap.

“I’m going to prove to you I’m not too young.”

She moves up and down with one hand, while her other flattens on my chest, holding me in place. Her soft breasts press against my back and her hips mold to my ass.

Jesus.

“Why?”

I have done nothing to bring this on. I’ve been good.

“Why not?” She strokes me, up and down. Her pressure is lighter than I like, lighter than I apply, but her touch still feels fucking amazing. The moment is more fever dream than real. “You’ve done me a favor. I want to return it.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” Of course, as I say the words, I’m watching her fingers on my dick and the nails on her other hand scratch my nipple.

“Maybe this is for me. You said I can’t have sex with other men. Is it so bad if I want sex? Or are women not supposed to enjoy sex?”

She did tell me she’s not a virgin. Jesus, I’m so fucking lightheaded. Steam clouds the ceiling, and water rivulets cascade down the walls.

She’s twenty-two. When I was twenty-two, I slept around. I spent my twenties dating sporadically. Going from bed to bed.

“I don’t have a condom.”

Her grip tightens, as do my balls.

“I have an IUD.”

Fuck, I want her.

My mind blanks. Why am I resisting?

“That’s what you want? Sex?” Her thumb circles the pooling pre-cum in a tempting, erotic rotation. I blink back the fog. “Meaningless sex? That’s what you want?”

“Yes.” The streaming water drowns out her answer, but I heard it, and the permission releases a dam.

I push off the wall, and she stumbles back. I fist her hair, angling her head. Her mouth opens slightly, and with hooded, tempting pools of blue, she gazes up at me. Her pale skin pinks from the hot water. I flick a thumb over her nipple and bend, allowing my fingers to roam her stomach, down to her glistening, pink folds masked by black, trimmed curls. I slip a finger inside, and my eyelids close in gratitude. She’s hot, wet, and ready.

“God, I’m a sinner.”

“We’re all sinners.” Twisted blonde strands veil her face as she shares her wisdom. Her gaze lifts from my finger and her pussy, the veil falls away, and those lust-filled baby blues are my ruin.

I crash my mouth over hers, brutally claiming her lips, her tongue. She tastes like heaven.

My dick presses into her belly, and my balls tighten.Christ.

I break away and take in her swollen, ruby lips as my chest heaves.

I spin her around and place her hands on the wall, palms flat, fingers spread.

“Keep them there.”

She looks over her shoulder at me, hair soaked and darker with hot water, a smear of mascara tainting her angelic face.

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