Page 309 of Vicious Saint
Saint shoves two inside, and instinctively I push against the advance, moaning until fingers get replaced with what I’ve been waiting for.
“Yes,” I whimper. “Now give it to me.”
A devious smirk lifts the corner of Saint’s lips as the head of his cock teases my entrance.
Fucker.
Too sex crazed to give a shit about how desperate I look, I curl my legs around his waist, forcing his cock to bury inside me.
The move works, likely because he allowed it to.
“Ah!” I cry out when Saint fills me completely, and he stays this way until I’m squirming for him.
“More,” I demand, and he slams into me with a grunt.
“Again.”
Another slam, this time hard enough to sting, but the pain only spurs me on even more.
“Yes! Keep going, just like that.”
“Damn it, Jimi.” Saint claws my hips as he attacks my pussy. “I love it when you’re needy for me.”
The sound of wet kisses, moans, and slapping skin is all that passes between us as we writhe and move as a single unit. Saint, as always, knows exactly when to slow down, pick up speed, and add some finger action to bring me over the edge. A skill he’s been mastering as if his sole purpose in life is to pleasure me.
“I’m gonna come.” I whimper as he rolls his hips into me.
“My second favorite three words.”
Sweat builds at Saint’s neck as his strokes tighten, tilting his hips just enough to hit my g-spot.
“Right there…” I demand, eyes fluttering closed as I focus on the butterflies dancing inside me.
Saint does not let up, in fact, he continues fucking me this way until sweat beads at his forehead and his grunts turn to ragged breaths.
I scream as the walls of my pussy pulse against his cock, an explosive orgasm following right after. My thighs tremble, fingers digging into Saint’s muscular ass as I ride out the waves of pleasure.
I’m granted no reprieve from Saint as he tightens a fist around my hair, driving into me with so much force I’d be sliding halfway across the table if he wasn’t holding me.
I’m so sensitive it hurts, but it’s so good I’ll never get enough of the beautiful man before me.
Saint’s focus. Determination. The way his body moves, the sounds he makes, the hard plains of his muscles contracting. All to pleasure me.
It’s an astronomical turn on.
My lungs can barely keep up with his movements to allow air to flow through them, to the point where I don’t bother trying to breathe as he finishes destroying my body, and me, for everyone else.
Saint’s cock pulses, and a few strokes later he’s moaning through an orgasm.
“Holy shit.” He collapses onto me, once again restricting oxygen, but I don’t care. Oxygen after hot sex is overrated. His face is buried into my neck as he mutters, “I don’t know how I went a year without fucking you.”
“That’s easy…” I let out a restricted laugh. “By being an asshole.”
It’s a joke, but Saint doesn’t seem to take it that way because he lifts himself to hover over me with a quick push up. “Fuck. Did I hurt you?”
Here we go ’round the panicky bush again.
“Why the heck do you keep worrying about this?”
