Page 66 of Cross My Heart

I watch it all, enthralled. My blood is suddenly running hotter, my whole body tingling with a fiery anticipation. It’s like the Midnight party all over again, but somehow even more tempting and explicit. At the party, I was in a state of giddy disbelief, totally out of my element.

But now…

Now the heat in my veins is thick with awareness, already knowing that whatever happens, I’m going to love every filthy minute of it.

Already wondering what particular pleasures Saint will show me and how far I’ll go; what lines I’ll happily cross tonight.

Saint takes my hand and leads me to the bar. He orders us drinks, and then turns to me, smiling when he sees me still watching the room, enthralled. “You like it,” he says, pleased.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” I reply.

He looks surprised. “Not even back in the States? There are places like this all over, if you know where to look.”

I shake my head. “I don’t. Know where, I mean. And even if I did, I don’t think I ever would have gone…”

Not before Saint fixed me with that seductive look across the party and led me into temptation. Freed me to indulge my wildest fantasies for the first time in my life.

“So you’ve never experimented, explored your own kinks and desires?” Saint asks, sliding an arm casually around my waist as he leans in closer to talk.

“No. I mean, I’ve read plenty, and mentioned things, to old boyfriends, hoping that maybe we could try…” I add, thinking back to those blushing encounters, full of embarrassment—only to discover to my disappointment that nothing came close to the heady fantasies lurking on my Kindle.

At least, not until Saint.

“But I never felt like I could ask out loud for what I wanted,” I continue, meeting his eyes. “What I’ve fantasized about. It always felt… I don’t know, shameful and dirty.”

Saint nods. “Shame can be erotic,” he says thoughtfully. “The idea that you’re breaking the rules, transgressing with the taboo. It’s why it’s bound so closely to pleasure, in art and literature.”

“Is this one of your famous libertine lectures?” I tease, and he laughs.

“No, it’s just interesting to realize how universal this all is.” He gestures around the room, to the low groans of pleasure; hungry mouths and searching hands. “It might feel novel, or illicit, but that’s only because society has been set up to make us think so. In fact, people have had these desires for thousands of years—and found every opportunity to indulge them.”

He’s right. It’s a new way of looking at it, one that feels more honest than everyone just pretending like there isn’t a part of them that’s craving pleasure and release.

“I think that’s why I feel so free with you,” I find myself saying. “You’ve probably seen it all. I know there’s nothing I can do or say that will make you judge me.”

Except that I’ve been lying since the day we met.

The voice whispers, in the back of my mind, but I push it aside. Tonight is about pleasure, whatIwant, where no lies or faking are required. And already, Saint is stroking me softly through my clothes, a slow rub of his fingertips against the curve of my hip, back and forth.

Back and forth.

I inhale in a rush, feeling the heat spiral from his touch. Saint shifts closer. “These fantasies of yours,” he murmurs, breath warm against my cheek. “Tell me about them.”

Despite everything I’ve just said, I flush. “I… I don’t know. What do you mean?”

“I mean, when you close your eyes at night, alone, and you reach under the covers and play with that sweet, wet cunt… What do you imagine?” Saint’s voice is low and hypnotic, his hands shifting, stroking over my body now, tracing over my breasts and ass. “Are you on your knees, waiting for an order, or on your back, commanding someone to pleasure you?” he continues, his touch turning possessive, delving between my thighs and plucking at my stiffening nipples. “Are you taking one man, or many? Being feasted on, or swallowing his cock while a woman licks you out? Are you begging, or screaming out in pleasure? Are you being used, fucked mercilessly, or taken slow, until you’re mindless, and shaking for release?”

Oh God.

I exhale, shivering at the rush of filthy images—and the promise in his voice. “Yes,” I breathe, dazzled by the possibilities.

“To what?”

“All of it,” I reply with a moan, as his grip tightens.

Saint sounds a low approving groan. “Fuck, baby. We’re going to have fun together.”

I turn my head to face him, and claim a hot, pulse-racing kiss. Saint pulls me closer against the heat of his body, and I feel him harden, his cock stiff against me, as his tongue sensuously explores my mouth.

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