Page 16 of The Saint

Yes, I fucking did. “She made her wishes clear.”

“I just want to know she’s okay?—”

“That’s my job now, asshole. You’ve been fired and replaced.” I snapped my fingers. “Like that.”

He looked away, like the truth of my words dug under his skin.

“Where’s her stuff?”

“I tried to pack everything, but…it was too hard.” His hands went to his hips, and he looked at the stairs. “I didn’t expect it to end like this.”

“If you didn’t want it to end, all you had to do was not fuck other people.”

He turned to me. “You’re a real prick.”

“You expect me to feel sorry for you? Expect Fleur to feel sorry for you? No one gives a damn, Adrien. Were you thinking aboutFleur when you were balls deep inside someone else? Were you thinking about her when you came in a bitch’s mouth and told her to swallow? Were you thinking about her?—”

“Stop.”

“Then take me upstairs so I can get her shit and go home.”

Adrien said nothing else before he finally headed upstairs to the primary bedroom he used to share with Fleur. The bed was covered in piles of clothes, and the shoes were placed on top. There were other things, a jewelry box, a box full of pictures and keepsakes, a couple pieces of décor.

I called the guys downstairs. “Bring at least twelve boxes—and all the tape.” I hung up then looked at Adrien across the bed, unable to believe I was standing in the room where Fleur used to sleep every night before she met me. “The only grace I’ll give you is the fact that I think this was all meant to happen. Fleur was meant to be mine—so this was destined to go to shit.”

I had the guys put the boxes in one of the spare bedrooms so she could go through them at her convenience. Adrien let us go without a fight. Didn’t mention the Aristocrats or his plans for the business. He still had a target on his back, but this time, I wouldn’t help him.

It was early morning when I walked in the door. She wasn’t on the couch or in bed, and when I stepped into the bathroom, I found her in the shower, her soiled workout clothes on the floor where she’d left them.

I stared at her through the fogged-up glass, seeing her sexy curves soaking wet. She grabbed my bar of soap and rubbed it over her chest, over her plump tits, and then across her throat, her movements slow like she was in no rush and had nowhere to be.

I dropped my clothes in a pile on the floor and joined her.

When she felt the draft from the cold, she quickly turned toward me with wide eyes, like she assumed the worst instead of the best. But when she realized it was me, that bright affection entered her gaze, sunshine through the clouds in her eyes.

Wordlessly, I greeted her, hooking my arms around her soapy body and bringing her into me for a long kiss. I gripped her tight ass in one hand, while I squeezed her around the torso with the other. The kiss continued, growing from soft and slow to hot and fiery, full of tongue and little moans masked by the sound of the falling water. Shower sex was not my favorite, not when there were so many obstacles and the height difference between most women and me was so great, but I wanted this woman whenever she stepped into the room. Her kiss was scorching, her touch like a spark to a pyre that burned my soul.

I scooped her into my arms and lifted her into position, letting her guide my length to her entrance, and I lowered her down to sheathe it fully.

She moaned as she hooked her arms around my neck, being supported by my hands on her ass and my arms under her thighs.

I lifted her up and down, thrusting my hips on her way down, taking her in the shower like she weighed nothing. Since my arms were the size of her head, she really did weigh nothing.

Her skin was red, flushed by the heat growing inside her. Her eyes had a heavy glaze over them like she was lost in the heat between us, lost in the passion that set our world ablaze. I knew she was impressed by my strength because she was more turned on than usual, watching me lift her over and over without having to slow, my bulging arms the size of tree trunks. I listened to her body and studied her touches and kisses, so I knew her favorite position was missionary. She was always so fucking wet, and she came so damn fast. But it seemed like she enjoyed this even more. “You like this, sweetheart?”

Her answer was immediate. Didn’t have to pull it out of her. “Yes…”

I started to fuck her faster. “You love it when I fuck you like this?”

Her breaths ran rampant, uneven and uneasy. “Yes.”

I kept up the fast pace because of the adrenaline and the throbbing arousal in my dick. I lifted three times her weight in a session in the gym, so my muscles didn’t fatigue as quickly as they would with a higher weight.

She was about to come. Her eyes glazed over like she saw stars, and her lips parted to begin the incoherent stream of sighs and cries and moans. She was so pretty when she came, her eyes growing wet with tears that were desperate to be free. Then there was the crescendo, the moans intermixed with my name, and the sudden tightness of her pussy.

I could tell how wet she was, even in the shower. It was so distinctive around my dick, so slick. I brought her down on my length the exact way I wanted and gave her my final pumps, filling that pussy with another load.

I held her close and felt her ankles lock together at the top of my ass. It took just a few seconds for my breathing to return to normal. I stepped farther under the showerhead so the water could hit us both to wash away the sweat.

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