Page 62 of No Saint

I couldn’t tell you what had me slipping from the bed while the moon sat heavy and round above the calm seas beyond the windows. I’d grabbed the baby monitor, now gripped in my sweating palms and headed this way.

Towards that light at the end of the hall and the growing sound of water running from a shower.

Gabriel’s kiss from dinner still heated my lips, the feel of his hardness between my legs and his plea for me to give in to him. To give myself to him. The words echoed in my head.

But me, this. It’s all I’ve got.

And those words were true.

And perhaps it was the flashbacks of my past, of my childhood, of wanting and never getting, of going to bed hungry and being left out at school because I wasn’t like the others. Perhaps it was the lonely little girl controlling me right now, the same girl who wanted, so bad, to feel something. To be wanted. Needed.

To feel the touch of a hand because it is what I allowed, not because someone forced me. To feel a caress instead of a smack. I wanted my breath stolen from me with a passionate kiss, not because my head was being held beneath the dirtied water of a pool long since forgotten in the back yard.

Those memories, all of them, they could be pushed down with new ones. Ones where someone wanted me, needed me,cravedme.

I could give it over and forget it all.

So perhaps it was that, that made me explore something I’d wanted for a while and denied myself.

The door to the bathroom is ajar, the warm light spilling out of the crack and the water is louder, but I don’t hear Gabriel in there, not until a long groan sends a delicious, erotic tremor down my spine.

That sound, a deep growl of pleasure was unmistakable but intrusive thoughts still my hand before I can peek. What if it was another woman? Did Gabriel have a mistress?

We were married but I’d made it clear I hadn’t wanted anything from him so I couldn’t blame him, could I?

The thought doesn’t help as an acidic ball of jealousy coils tight in the pit of my stomach.

Unwelcomed images of Gabriel tangled with a beautiful woman invade my mind, of his mouth, the mouth that kissed with passion and skill, who touched in ways that would tease but never give, touching someone else. I had no doubt he would be a skillful lover and the idea of him giving that to someone who wasn’t me made my teeth snap together.

Blowing out a breath quietly, I push the door, just a little, just enough to see right through to the shower stall that had a glass door.

I just needed to know.

I mean it would make my life easier right? If Gabriel had someone else, I could get over this damn ache he’d left in me since that kiss back in the bedroom weeks ago.

But there wasn’t a woman in the shower with him.

It was just Gabriel, every glorious,nakedinch of him.

My mouth waters at the sight of such a powerful man, back curved forward with one hand resting on the tiles of the bathroom, the other wrapped around…

Holy shit.

I swallow at the size of his cock, hard and proud in his fist, being jerked roughly while he watches. His muscles bunch and flex as he fucks himself, ropes and ropes of muscle that the water seems to worship as it slides in rivers over his tanned skin. Dark hair, slick, falls down in front of his forehead and droplets of water sit at the corners of his mouth.

He lets out another long moan, as the fingers on the hand resting against the tiles curl in as if trying to claw at the wall, the pleasure he is inflicting on himself tensing all his muscles.

Fuck.

Fuck.

My breath saws chaotically from my chest and wetness pools between my legs, my pussy throbbing with need.

He slows his strokes, almost gently caressing over the veins up the length of his shaft and then his thumb across the swollen crown. He had the most beautiful cock I think I’ve ever seen.

I hadn’t realized I’d started forward, not until my thigh bumps into the door, forcing it to swing and knock against the wall.

Gabriel’s head snaps to me.

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