Page 51 of Cheater and the Saint
13
Leo
Sex had always been easy for me. Not just getting it, but the act itself. That wasn’t to say I didn’t give it my all, because I’d been described in the past as an incredible fuck. It only meant that I didn’t put much emotion into it. I was sometimes gentle, other times rough, but never overly passionate.
As long as both members on boardgot off, that’s all I’d ever cared about.
Saint made me nervous, though. Maybe it was because I’d wanted him for so long that I was too eager, too worried about it somehow not meeting my high expectations. Or his.
Performance anxiety? What the fuck?
Well, that was a first.
Saint had eventually come into the room, and right when he’d entered, I’d seen the self-assurance from earlier dissipate. A façade. The overhead light was off, but I’d turned on the bedside lamp. Seeing his nerves somehow eased mine a little. Not sure why, other than it showed he wasn’t that experienced, which boosted my confidence.
Once he was close enough to the bed, I slipped a hand around his waist and pulled him down on top of me.
“Hey, sexy,” I muttered against his throat as I buried my face there.
He was in his boxers, like me, and when I slid my hand down his side, I loved the softness of his skin. At dinner that night, he’d said he’d been a swimmer back in high school, and his body reflected that fact, which told me he still swam.
“I’m sure you have me confused with someone else,” Saint replied, twisting his fingers in my hair as I kissed his neck.
Muscled, but not excessively so, he was gorgeous as he hovered over me. He was just too insecure to believe it.
“That’s not possible,” I said between licks and nips at his skin. “You’re not like anyone else.”
I spread my legs and smirked when he shifted his body to settle between them. Then we were kissing, our bare chests sliding together, hands pulling at each other as sensations heightened. I wrapped my arms around him, dipping my tongue more into his mouth and flicking it with his.
His answering moan and grinding of his hips into mine was beautiful.
The way Saint responded to me was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. When I touched him, he pressed more into me, seeking more. Wanting me as much as I wanted him. Desperate, almost.
Not that I was counting or anything… but it’d been alongtime since I’d fucked. So long that as I mentally calculated the weeks since I screwed what’s-her-name in Tayte’s dorm room, I realized that I’d set a new personal record.
But something about Saint made the wait seem worthwhile. Like, finally running in that touchdown that won the game.
Saint kissed from my lips and down my neck. His touch set me on fire. I was so fucking horny that it took all the self-control I had not to rip his clothes off, flip him onto his back, straddle his hips, and impale myself on him.
At the thought of doing exactly that, I whimpered.
His fingers traveled down my chest and rested at the band of my boxers. We were still kissing, going from slow and sweet to firm kisses and lip bites. It was very telling of how I hoped the sex would be.
When he finally dipped his fingers under the material and pulled them down, my dick sprang free. Hard and already leaking from the tip.
“Wow,” he muttered, pulling from my lips and looking down between us. “Thank god I’m not a bottom.”
I gripped my shaft, gently squeezing from base to tip as I peered up at him. Not to be one ofthoseguys, but yeah, it was big. “Have you ever bottomed before, Frosty?”
Just then, his cheeks flushed. “Um. Once. I didn’t like it much.”
“Maybe he didn’t do it right,” I said, still stroking myself. I had no shame in it.
Saint smiled and moved his hips in a small circle. The antsy little demon. “How about we stop talking and let me show you what Icando?”
Perfectly okay with that plan, I leaned up and snagged hold of his lips, smoothing my hand down his spine, causing bumps to form on his skin. I pulled down his boxers before grabbing his ass, tugging him against me and causing our dicks to slide together. As our bodies moved, I glanced down and whimpered when I saw his dick. It wasn’t as big as mine, but fuck, it was perfect: mostly straight with just a slight curve, one I knew would feel fucking amazing nudging against my prostate.
I thrust my hips upward, gliding our lengths together.
