Page 66 of No Saint

I pump myself, feeling the aftershocks of her orgasm spasming her inner walls and wait right to the last minute before I abruptly pull out and come up her back, the hot jets hitting her skin as I roar my release.

She slumps limply down onto the bed, and I barely hold myself up, keeping myself steady above her, one hand on the bed, the other on my cock as I rub the last of my orgasm over her back.

Catching my breath, I steady myself and reach forward, smearing my come into her skin.

“Gabriel,” she tries.

“Shh,” I order, rubbing it into her skin as if it were lotion. I feel bumps, like scars on her flesh. Stretchmarks, I assume from her pregnancy and rub it in harder, kneading her flesh and using my climax as oil.

“Gabriel,” she says again.

I drop down onto her and hook my hand around her throat, tugging her head back. She gasps and with her mouth open I place my fingers on her tongue, “Lick them clean, Amelia, taste what you do to me.”

She wraps her lips around them and sucks as I drop my face into her and inhale.

“I’m not done with you, wife,” I whisper my promise against her hair, “Not by a long shot.”

27

Ifuck her until the sun crests the horizon and bleeds bright orange light across the waves beyond the cliffs, I fuck her until we both lay limp and breathless, sweat and come making our skin sticky and tight. She lays beside me now silently, her chest falling steadily after just passing out exhausted, unable to move even to shower. I knew she would regret that though, so I gently rouse her, tucking a still sweat damp tendril of hair behind her ear.

She had a beautiful flush to her skin and she was buried to the neck beneath the sheets. I start to move them off her, wanting to touch, to feel but she wakes suddenly and grips the sheet, eyes wide as she stares at me with a mixture of shock and horror.

“What are you doing?” She rasps, voice sore from her cries and rough with sleep.

“Amelia?”

She shakes her head, “No you can’t.”

My brows tug down, “What are you talking about?”

“You can’t see me!” She shrieks. Gone was the desire filled woman and in her place was someone with too much fear in her eyes. Her knuckles are white with the grip she holds onto the sheets, keeping the sheets over her completely.

I hold my hands up, confused, “Okay. Okay, you’re okay.”

She swallows.

Slowly, as if not to spook her, I climb from the bed and go to my drawers, withdrawing a long sleeved shirt from the top. I hand it over.

She takes it gently and then stares, waiting, “You want me to turn around?”

She nods.

I’d just fucked the woman six ways to Sunday but I turn, giving her that space. I hear the rustle of bedding and her clothing before she says, “Okay.”

I turn to see her sitting, the sheets pooled in her lap and her thumbnail between her teeth, “I’m sorry.”

I soften with a sigh, crossing the space. She doesn’t stop me from sitting next to her or reaching forward to cup her cheek in my hand. She leans into the embrace, closing her eyes. “I just wanted to wake you for a shower before we slept. We need to clean you.”

“I uh, I can’t sleep,” she opens her eyes, turning her face into my hand to kiss my palm. The movement makes my heart twinge, “I need to get back to Lincoln. I’ll shower back in my room.”

“You have nothing to be ashamed of in front of me, Amelia,” I run my thumb on her lip, “You’re beautiful.”

She pulls away, “I’m okay, I’m just going to go.”

“Amelia.”

“I’m fine, Gabriel.”

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