Page 67 of Forever My Saint

My heart swells as he presses his lips to mine.

We kiss deliriously slow, my body quivering with what’s to come. I’ve never wanted anything more than I do this. He adjusts himself between my legs, never breaking the rhythm of our kisses. When I feel him hot, hard, and ready, I brace myself for him to enter me.

He doesn’t.

He teases me instead, kissing down my neck and then taking my nipple into his mouth. I run my fingernails down his muscled back, gasping as each lash of his tongue sends me closer to the edge. My breast pops free from his mouth as he detours to my scar. He gently kisses over it.

I know he still feels guilty for shooting me, but every scar has just made us both tougher. It shows the world that we were stronger than whatever tried to beat us. Saint is covered in wounds, and each one is an affirmation that he will always be my bad Saint.

“I love you,” I whisper although that doesn’t quite sum up how I feel.

But when he smiles and looks at me like I am the most precious thing in the world, I know that it’s enough.

“?? ??? ??????. ??? ?????. ? ?????? ???????? ???? ?? ????? ???? ?????. ?????-?? ?? ???a ??? ????????, ?? ?????? ? ????. ? ????? ????.”

My brain turns to mush because whenever he speaks Russian, I am held captive. He softly bites my jaw while I arch backward, opening myself up to him. “Wh-what did you say?”

“I said…” he utters against my lips, “you are my heart.”

He doesn’t give me a chance to reply because he shifts, placing his blunt head against my sex. My eyes widen, and with an intake of breath, he enters me slowly. I clutch his shoulders, my mouth parting with voiceless pleas.

“My life,” he continues, driving into me gradually, inch by glorious inch.

I am lost to his voice, his body, and grow lax, allowing this magnificent man to claim what is and has always been his.

“I promise to protect you for the rest of my life.”

Oh…my god. I am being split into two.

When he’s imbedded halfway into me, he pauses and places a gentle kiss to my brow. “You were once my captive, but now…” He allows my muscles to adjust to his size before he exhales and sinks into me all the way to the hilt.

I gasp because now, we are one, and what he says next cements this union evermore. “I’m yours. I love you.” And with that, he begins to move inside me.

The feel of him being rooted so deep takes my breath away, and my eyes flicker under the intensity of being joined this way. It hurts, but underneath that pain, Saint is able to draw the pleasure to the forefront. I focus on the way our bodies fit together, and after a while, there is nothing but…this.

He pulls out, then sinks all the way back in. He does it over and over again. I am lost in him, in this ecstasy, and when he increases the rhythm, I cry out, on the verge of tears. “Put your arms above your head, ?????.”

I do as he says, and he grips my wrists in one hand, shackling me. The imagery reminds me of when he bound me on the yacht, and it heightens my already aroused state.

“Faster,” I whimper, bowing my back, desperate to feel him everywhere because no matter how close we are, we’re not close enough, and we never will be.

Saint complies with my pleas, increasing his speed, a primeval grunt escaping him.

The slapping of our ripe, slick flesh combined with the sensation of being connected in this way has me losing myself to the bliss. I never thought it would feel this good, but wherever Saint touches, I come alive. He is deep, so incredibly deep, and the momentum of his strokes has my entire body moving upward with the force.

“Fuck,” he curses, peering down at where we are joined. “You okay?”

His breathless question leaves me aching because he will always ensure my needs are met before his. “Yes, more than okay. I never…” I lick my lips and arch my neck backward. “I never thought it could be this way.”

“Me either,” he confesses, which surprises me. He lowers his head and suckles my breast. His large hand cups it whole. “Move with me, ?????.”

He releases me so I’m able to wrap my arms around his neck and mold my body around his. Each time he pushes, I pull, the perfect yin and yang. The pain begins to subside and gives way to this euphoria that has me clenching tight.

A string of Russian leaves him.

He continues moving inside me, and I meet him thrust for thrust. I am clumsy and out of sync at times, but he makes me feel nothing but beautiful as he whispers sweet nothings into my ear. The friction of our bodies colliding into one another has the fire inside me smoldering bright. A coil begins to unravel within, and a sheen of perspiration dampens my skin.

My release is close—I can taste it—but I don’t want this feeling to end. I claw at Saint’s back, groaning and mumbling incoherently. He pistons his hips, humming each time he goes in deep. A heat crackles from my core and rumbles straight through me.

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