Page 53 of Cheater and the Saint
“You like it.” He moved closer, and my body tingled at the soft glides of his hand on my ass and up my spine. When he pressed against my hole, I winced at the sting and dropped my head to the pillow. He waited. “Are you okay?”
“Uh huh.” I breathed through my nose, in and out.
Saint pulled out a little before pushing back in. Then he did it again. When he pushed in deeper, nearly all the way in, I gasped before biting the pillow. The sting faded, and once my winces turned to moans, Saint held my hips tighter before pumping into me more. He thrust slow and shallow at first, teasing.
When I reached behind me and tried tugging him harder, he chuckled, a husky sound that made me ache even more.
“Eager, are we?” he asked, and I didn’t even have to see him to know he was grinning.
I pushed back against him, making him go deeper and causing us both to groan. But he pulled out after that, so far that only his tip was inside, and he waited like that before slamming back into me. Hard.
The time for teasing was over. He fucked me hard and fast, shifting between shallow and deep thrusts. The phrasefucked into oblivionpopped into my head as the headboard banged against the wall and our panting breaths and grunts filled the room.
Saint gripped my hips tighter and lifted my ass more in the air before pounding me faster. And fuck… he hit my spot with the new angle.
I whimpered into the pillow as pressure built inside me, growing higher and higher with each pumping of his hips. With my ass in the air and him holding the weight of my lower body, he had all of the control. Damn, if I didn’t love it, too.
“Shit. I’m gonna come,” I said on a moan, feeling my muscles tense and strain for the release.
“Come,” Saint growled, fucking me harder. His voice was tight, and I suspected he wouldn’t hold on much longer, either.
My orgasm hit me so hard I cried out, shuddering uncontrollably. My brow was slick with sweat, and all the tension left my body in waves. As I shot my load onto the mattress, Saint quietly groaned as his body quivered. His thrusts faltered and his fingers dug into my hips as he came inside me, his moans quiet but sexy as hell.
After he was spent, he dropped me back on the mattress and leaned forward, resting his forehead on the top of my shoulder. He pulled out of me but stayed that way, probably too exhausted to move. I felt the same. I didn’t know if it was because it’d been a while since I’d had sex, or if it was something special about him, but that’d been one of the most intense orgasms I’d ever had.
I hadn’t even had to touch myself to get off, which had never happened before with any other guy.
Saint kissed my shoulder before nuzzling his face into the place where my neck and shoulder met. It was… sweet. Affectionate.
There went my heart again, fluttering like a damn hummingbird’s wings. Maybe he’d found a way to make me want more with him, even though there wasnoway in Hell it was intentional. Or maybe I was having a heart attack. Given my stance on feelings and all that relationship shit… I wasn’t sure which one I’d prefer.
Usually, I had to clean up after sex, hating feeling sticky from sweat and cum, but something about laying there with Saint—even in the mess—made me forget about that and enjoy the moment. He eventually rolled off me, but he didn’t go far. His arms wrapped around my waist, and I faced him, snuggling my face into the side of his neck. He smelled of sex and spice, two of my favorite things.
When he brushed a kiss against my forehead, I sighed and cuddled more into him.
Another first?
I fell asleep that way, face against his neck and my heart feeling a little less empty.
***
The next morning, I opened my eyes and stared at the empty spot beside me. One that was cold but still with the imprint of Saint’s head on the pillow. Never did I think I’d actually be sad about waking up to find a guy had left in the middle of the night, but as the sinking sensation landed in my gut, I realized that when it came to Saint, I didn’t react as expected.
I sat up in bed and scratched at my stomach, only to find dried cum there. I cringed.Yep. Shower before anything.After going to the bathroom, I hopped in the shower, taking my time and scrubbing my body. And yeah, I might’ve jerked off, too. Once I was clean—and sated—I dried off and pulled on a pair of athletic pants before going into the kitchen.
Saint sat at the table, looking too hot for words. His hair looked damp, as if he’d showered not too long before I woke up, and it wasn’t in its normal fixed hold. I preferred it messy like that. He wore his glasses, a blue hoodie, and charcoal-gray skinny jeans and stared at the laptop in front of him, typing away as if his life depended on it.
“Morning, sexy,” I greeted him as I made my way to the coffee pot. Bless his frosty soul; he’d left me some coffee so I didn’t have to wait for it to brew.
“Good morning,” he responded in a distant tone.
I crinkled my brow at his aloofness and filled a mug before adding cream and sugar. Taking a seat across from him, I watched as he stayed focused on the screen, not looking at me for anything. Something felt off.
“Everything okay?”
“Yep,” he answered, still not looking at me.
This was not the sweet guy who’d placed tender kisses on my shoulder the night before, or the one who had pulled me against his chest afterward and pressed his lips to my forehead.
