Page 49 of Property of Saint

“Enough of fuckin’ talking,” I growl, then pull her back down on the bed. In one smooth move, I’ve my lips on hers, my tongue demanding entry. For a moment, she resists, trying to keep me out, but when my hand snakes up under her, nomyT-shirt and encircles her breast, she capitulates, and allows my mouth to ravish her. Her nipple feels perfect as I roll my fingers around it, making it peak.She’s so damn responsive.If I ease up on the kiss, I know she’ll try to resist, but her body doesn’t lie in the way that it responds to me. And the kissing? Fuck, I was in high school when I last kissed a girl, a mouth was the last part I was ever interested in unless it involved lips surrounding my cock. But her taste? Swallowing her moans? Hell, it’s addictive. Exchanging saliva has never been at the top of my agenda before, but now I’m not quite sure how I’d live without it.

“Need to see your tits,” I lift my lips from hers only to gasp, then before she can protest, I’ve taken hold of the T-shirt and ripped it up and almost over her head, pausing at her squeak of pain, and slowing to carefully ease her injured shoulder through the armhole.

Now her breasts are revealed to me, I pull myself away from her mouth and apply my attention to the nubs that swell from her brown areoles. Her moans, her gasps, her grip on my hair as she uses it to pull me closer, just ramp up my arousal so much, I can feel precum already leaking from my dick.

I can’t wait. I nuzzle my way down her stomach, then, feeling the material of her/mysweats blocking my way, I rear back, and in one smooth movement divest her of the offending garment.Of course, she’s commando underneath, surprise, surprise, I had no pretty panties to offer her.

“Saint, no.” She tries to protest in that moment I’ve lifted my lips from her, but it’s halfhearted at best, and when I place my mouth around her needy already swollen clit and this time when she grips my hair, it’s not to pull me away, but to press me closer, I know while mentally she hasn’t accepted my ownership and dominance over her body just yet, on an animalistic level she needs me.

I suck, lick, insert one, two, then three fingers insides her, plying her with multiple sensations, playing with her g-spot while my tongue and teeth torture her clit. It’s not long before she rewards me with screams, shouts, and a rush of fluids flooding my mouth.

Before she can come down from her climax, my dick’s pushed inside her, her own lubrication easing the way for me to press in to the hilt.

She’s got me so turned on, I can’t be gentle. I’m rough as I plow into her, pulling out, then slamming in, over and over.

“Saint, Saint.”

Her pussy doesn’t lie as it urges me on until she starts to convulse around me. I try to hold on, but she’s trying to milk my dick, and my resolve flies out the window as I come inside her, so hard I see stars.

I’m breathing fast to recover, having proved the first time wasn’t a fluke, in fact it was even better. She is what I want forever. Sex this good for the rest of my life. It’s not until she starts pushing at me that I realise I’ve put my whole weight on her. Giving mercy, I slide onto my side, pulling her with me.

“You’re mine,” I state adamantly. “You’re going to be my ol’ lady and stay by my side. If we’re lucky, I’ve already put my baby inside you. If not, well, I don’t mind keeping on trying.”

“Saint,” she gasps.

“Don’t fight it,” I warn her. “If you’re not on the same page as I am now, well, I’m going to give you every chance to catch up. But being mine keeps you alive.” I pause and huff a laugh. “You’d really prefer a bullet to your head than becoming mine? My property?”

She inhales loudly and then gives what sounds like a reluctant sigh. “How long until you rush out of the room and leave me?”

Oh fuck. I deserve that.“Pippa, darlin’, that first time with you blew my fuckin’ mind. I felt more than a sexual release, and that fucked with my head. It wasn’t you I was running from, but that you’d made me feel for the first time in my life. I didn’t know how to deal with it, so like a coward I ran. I never wanted an ol’ lady. I never wanted to be tied down. But when you came along you showed me, I was just waiting for the right woman.” I pause, scared for one of the few times in my life. “Say yes, Pippa. Say you’ll be mine.”

The elephant in the room is that even if she agrees, the club will have a hard job accepting her. But that’s a fight to come once I know there’s something to don armour for.

She’s quiet for a moment as I hold her in my arms, loving that she isn’t trying to pull away. If anything, she snuggles in closer. I give her time to process my words, hoping to fuck she comes up with the right answer.

Finally, she breathes out a long sigh and tells me, “The sex is good.”

“The sex is out of this fuckin’ world,” I growl.

Silence settles again, but I suppress my urge to try to persuade her, that would be the actions of a better man than I. Instead, I start thinking of ways to force her to comply, the idea of keeping her tied to my bed, for example, though I’d use fur-lined hand cuffs, I wouldn’t want to hurt her. And silk ropes, just long enough for her to get to the bathroom, making sure toleave no knives lying around, of course. I even start looking for anything sharp she could use to improvise to cut those, as yet, mythical restraints. The point is she’s mine. Mine to love and care for, even if that means protecting her from herself.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

PHILLIPA

Ihadn’t lied, sex with Saint is nothing like I’ve ever experienced before, it’s raw, urgent, admittedly earth shattering. My prior experiences have been fumbled at worst, and at best, it was okay, a meeting of bodies, but fast became predictable, something to get over with as quickly as possible, and dare I say it, endure. Rather than seeing stars and having an out-of-body experience, I relished the cuddling afterward, and the warmth of having another person in my bed.

An hour or so ago I fully expected I’d be facing death when Tempest had led me into that barn. A glimmer of hope had appeared when I realised, they were using interrogation tactics that I might have used myself, giving the guilty party reason to believe they could get out of this by turning on somebody else. My gut fear had been that club loyalty meant they’d support even a prospect of the club against a Fed. My respect for them grew as I realised the ploy, but I still hadn’t thought I was out of the woods. After they’d dealt with their rat, they could still turn on me.

I’d been given a reprieve, and hell, if these were my last hours on earth, I couldn’t have wished for anything more than spend them with Saint. The man who’s given me a choice.

I can’t escape. If I try, chances are I’d be caught and be dead.

If I refused Saint’s offer, the same would apply, they wouldn’t let me go free.

All my life I’ve strived to be the person I thought I should be. Straight As, a good honours degree, and a career I thought would bring me respect. But nothing I did got any recognition, not even a pat on the head. And joining the secret service as a woman meant I had to outshine the men, just to be told I was doing as good as them. If they were late, they had their back slapped and asked whether they’d had a good night. If I was, I was asked if I was on my period, and questioned whether I could keep up. My reports were scrutinised to the fullest extent. Every tiny grammatical mistake was picked up, while some of my male colleagues I had to question whether they were even literate. Not all, of course, but enough.

I proved myself in every way, overcoming all challenges, and was assigned to provide protection. And look how that ended?

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