Page 62 of Desire Me
“Only if you take me to bed.”
He closed his eyes hard, his arms tightening convulsively. “I thought you’d never say anything like that to me again.”
She nudged his chin until his eyes opened. “I won’t if you lie to me again, Saint. Not even a little white lie.” She pressed her breasts into his chest, desperate to ease the ache there but knowing this was more important. “Absolute truth; that’s the only way this can work from now on.”
Saint stilled her restless movements by picking her up in his arms. “Always. I won’t betray your trust again, Rae.”
“Okay.” She brought their lips back together. “Now take me to the bed and fuck me.”
He groaned but didn’t hesitate, stepping out of the shower with her in his arms, her legs wrapped tight around his hips. Every step rubbed her clit against his cock, torturing a groan out of her as he hurried them into the bedroom.
“The sheets,” she had a second to cry before she was on them, wet skin still dripping.
“I’ll change them later,” Saint growled. He knelt on the edge of the bed and did a slow prowl up between her legs. “I can’t wait any longer to get your taste in my mouth again.”
And that was the last thing he said before his hands forced her legs wide and his lips were on that most private part of her. Rough suction shook her immediately, pulling a cry from her that she couldn’t hold back. She prayed the rest of the team was too busy talking to hear them, but another hard draw made her realize she didn’t care if they did. Every ounce of blood in her veins felt like it was throbbing in her nipples and between her legs, a demanding rhythm she needed Saint to meet if she didn’t want to die right now.
She dug her nails into his hair. “Saint!”
His mouth didn’t stop, his tongue tracing her labia, dipping into her opening to taste her cream, tapping fast at her clit before he sucked it in again. But he seemed to understand her need, his hands coming up to cup her breasts, his thick fingers twisting and squeezing her sensitive nipples until a short scream escaped and an orgasm slammed into her out of nowhere.
“Saint!” She forced her slit against his tongue, desperate for every ounce of sensation she could get.
“That’s my woman,” he breathed into her body. “That’s it, cariño.”
A hard pinch of her nipples set off a second wave. This one left her limp, and she lay there, eyes closed, mind in a daze, as Saint sat back, then moved off the bed. She didn’t know what he was doing, and she didn’t care as long as he did it and came back to her.
Long minutes later the swipe of a towel across her sensitive breasts had her moaning again. By the time she communicated with her hand enough to lift it, attempt to brush the cloth away, it had moved down her stomach to her legs, then her feet. She didn’t have the heart to tell Saint the bed beneath her was wet so his efforts were somewhat wasted. No doubt he didn’t care, and honestly, neither did she, not yet.
The crinkle of foil preceded a tearing sound, then a grunt as Saint rolled on a condom. She didn’t look. She wanted to, because the man’s cock was worth staring at, but her eyelids refused to open. When a warm stream of something liquid hit her folds, she managed a flutter, but most of her energy went into pushing her legs farther apart to give Saint access.
And access he took. He coated her pussy in whatever it was he was smearing—some kind of lube, she guessed, because her skin began to tingle and a frisson of need bit at her clit when she’d thought her body would be dead for at least a few minutes more. His fingers slipped inside her, pushing through swollen folds that parted reluctantly, and she squirmed as a cry, halfoh my God, so goodand halfI’m nowhere near ready for fingers that big, escaped before she could hold it back.
Saint chuckled. She thought about kicking him, but then his fingertips hit that spot at the end of her channel that sent a zing of pleasure-pain through her and the moment was lost.
He pulled his fingers back, then penetrated her again. “Wake up, cariño.”
“Don’t wanna.” Her hips lifted into the next thrust.
“Sure about that? ’Cause this wet pussy doesn’t seem to agree with you.”
She dug her heels into the mattress and met his next advance. “I’m sure.”
The fingers disappeared. A cry of disappointment escaped, rising to a wail as a thick, hard cock pushed fully inside her in one long thrust.
Her eyes popped open.
Saint grinned down at her. When she dropped her gaze to where they were joined, she saw that he was hilt-deep, his cock hugged by her glistening folds. For reasons she didn’t understand, the sight choked her up.
“Hey.” Saint tucked his knees beneath her legs and bent over her, the push of his body opening her even more and driving him just that little bit farther inside. Her body clamped down, but she didn’t think it was protesting. She knew for damn sure the rest of her wasn’t. Her spine arched, pushing her breasts into the wide chest that came down to cover her, and her arms pulled him close before she could even think to command them.
“What’s this, cariño?” Saint asked, his thumbs brushing at the tears that trickled from her eyes. Just two, but that was enough for her Saint, wasn’t it? Whatever was wrong, he had to fix it.
“Nothing’s wrong,” she assured him, wrapping her legs around him once more. “It’s just…good.”
“It is good,mi amor.”
My love.Her body squeezed down on his.
