Page 69 of Saint's Sinner

“No worries,” Sinn remarked as he undid the zipper on his jeans. “I’ve got just the fix for that.”

Chapter 24

(Sinn)

The Chosen Ones

“Up on your hands and knees,” Sinn growled, giving Night’s hip a light slap.

His cock popped free of Night’s mouth as the man hurriedly complied, rolling over, widening his knees, and giving Sinn access to what he was after.

Sinn flicked the cap open on the tube of lube and drizzled it over his fingers before caressing the small of Night’s back. “Fuck yeah, just like that.”

That warm, tight heat needed little prep before he could inch his cock inside. Night was so eager to receive the fucking Sinn had been taunting him with all day that he pressed back, helping Sinn sink home faster, both of them shuttering the moment he bottomed out.

Sinn treated him to the rough ride they both wanted, slipping his hands in Night’s hair, and tugging while he fucked him, all while Night begged for more, more, more. Night roared when his orgasm hit, his walls clenching around Sinn’s cock, tipping him headlong into ecstasy too. Even as they started to come down from the high, Night drew things out with low moansand small jerky hip movements that sent secondary waves of pleasure rolling through him.

It wasn’t just catching their breath that took time, it was moving too. The sweatshirt Sinn knelt on provided very little cushion now that the endorphins had worn off. His knees ached and it took his brain a moment to send the correct messages to his fingers to get them to uncoil and release the hold they had on Night’s hair.

The moment he let go, Night collapsed on his belly in the scattered mess of half folded t-shirts, towels, and jeans that had spilled out of the laundry basket. They’d need to be washed again, which suddenly reminded him that he didn’t remember them discussing a washing machine or dryer when they’d been debating the list of appliances they’d need.

As soon as he could focus enough to remember where the fuck his phone was, he’d send a voice to text message to Saint to remind him that A, they needed one, and B, please make sure it was front loading.

“Ugggg, floors hard but I don’t wanna move,” Night groaned.

Sinn leaned over him to caress his cheek, only to discover he had his face pressed to the hardwood and his long hair in his eyes.

“You’re gonna have to move eventually unless you wanna walk around wearing an impression of the wood floor on your cheek for the rest of the day,” Sinn warned.

“I’m willing to risk it.”

Chuckling, Sinn pressed his forehead to Night’s shoulder. “Just remember you said that when the guys are giving you shit later.”

“Fuccckkkkkk.”

“Did you forget you promised them dinner?”

Night huffed and let out a low groan. “More like I forgot I still needed to make a grocery run, pick up a cooler and buy the beer.”

“You’d better get moving then.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“I don’t think it’s a question of want at this point, unless you plan to grill naked which might shock the neighbors a little since we’re still working with a chain link fence.”

“Meh, I’ll wear an apron.”

“Which like chaps, don’t cover your ass.”

“Ugggggg.”

“Besides, aren’t all your aprons in the kitchen at the bar?”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Did that,” Sinn replied. “Will wind up doing it again if you don’t get moving.”

“That’s the opposite of inspiring if moving is what you really want me to do,” Night said, wiggling his ass enough to jostle Sinn. “Just saying.”

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