Page 112 of No Saint

“You want to feel good?” I ask, gently circling her again.

“Please,” she begs.

“They beg too,” I tell her, leaning forward to capture her bottom lip with my teeth, free hand coming up to cup her breast, rolling the hardened peak of her nipple between my fingers. “They beg for death and mercy. Do you know what you’re going to beg me for?”

“Gabriel,” she runs her tongue over my lips, my cock aching with how hard it is for her.

“You’re going to beg me to fuck you, you’ll beg me to make you come. You’re going to want me so fucking bad you’ll feel as if you’ll go crazy without it. And I’m going to keep pushing you and tugging you back.”

She whimpers, “I’m sorry.” She reaches for my belt, attempting to free me. “Please, Gabriel.”

I move out of reach and then grab her knees, yanking her forward until her back hits the seats and I can grasp her hips, pulling her ass into my lap. I keep my back on the door, one leg bent to allow me to remain in this position while the other supports me on the floor of the car. I grasp and lift, bending slightly as I bring her soaked cunt to my mouth. Her arms lash out, fingernails scratching down the leather of the chairs. It wasn’t a comfortable position for her, but I keep her there, my face buried between her thighs, lapping up all that wetness for me. My tongue strokes her pussy, but I avoid that throbbing, sensitive clit.

My tongue punches into her, tasting her musky arousal on my tongue and swallowing it down before I finally flick my tongue over that sensitive bud. She soaks my lips and chin as I bring her up, up, up, her legs shaking and then I stop, turning my face to kiss her inner thigh.

“I’ll never do it again,” She whimpers, “Just please. Gabriel please.”

“I know you won’t baby, but a punishment is a punishment and this is going to last all night, Amelia.”

Her little whimper makes me smile. Gently I lower her hips and help her to sit. Her eyes light up when she sees me taking out my cock, stroking up the shaft and smearing the bead of precum over the crown.

“Greedy girl,” I smile, reaching forward to grasp the back of her head, “Let me fuck that pretty throat of yours.”

She doesn’t hesitate, she closes her warm wet mouth around my dick and takes it all the way to the back of her throat, swirling her tongue over the little ridge on the underside of my cock.

“Fuck!” I lift my hips as she comes down, going in deeper. She gags around my length, but she doesn’t stop.

I grab her wrist when she tries to slip her hand between her own thighs.

She grumbles on my cock, the vibration of the sound shooting a burst of pleasure into my balls.Dio, I wanted to fuck her into next week.

Keeping my hand on the back of her head, I fuck her face hard and fast. She gags around me but takes it, takes me and sucks.

“God damn, I’m going to come,” I growl, “You’re going to fucking swallow it, Amelia. All of it.”

She hums her approval.

My grunts are loud, the windows completely opaque with condensation and I’m coming, hot and loudly, hitting the back of her throat. She swallows it all down, continuing to suck me for every last drop before she lets it go with a wet pop.

She looks up at me with glazed eyes, “My dirty little wife,” I praise, using my thumb to wipe away the tears on her cheeks, “I’m taking you home now where no one can hear you scream. Tonight, you’re going to be my fucking whore.”

43

The house was empty.

It was surreal, to be in a place I’d only ever seen teeming with life and movement. But the darkened halls were echoing in the silence, the crash of waves thunderous against the cliffs.

I was still completely naked save for the heels on my feet that beat like a war drum while Gabriel led me to the bedroom after snagging a bottle of whiskey from the den.

“Gabriel,” I begin. My voice was sore, my body aching, shaking, so ready to be released I thought I might cry if I didn’t get it.

His punishments were beautifully cruel. The way he played my body like an instrument, how he kept me on that edge. It was torture and ecstasy. I wanted it to never stop and stop all the same.

“Shh,” he orders softly, guiding me into the bedroom and then to the bed where I sit.

He moves around the room, not looking at me, collecting things that he places on the bedside table. The whiskey and two ties.

“Go lay back on the pillows,” he tells me, “Arms above your head.”

---