Page 33 of Sullied Saints

"I'm watching you writhe," he murmurs, head dipping so that his lips brush wetness against my earlobe. "I do love seeing it."

And he pulls back again, barely still inside me. "Please," I groan, hand sliding down to his hip, urging him closer again.

His lips tickle the skin in front of my ear. "Please what?"

Asshole. I'm panting, writhing. Just like he wants. The urge, the utter need to be filled is all-consuming. I try to lift my hips, but he pulls back, ever refusing. The idea that he might never give it all is torturous.

I edge further down the bed, following him. Chuckling a low, dark sound, Dirk plants one hand on my hip, holding me down. Shifting his hips, the head of his cock leaves me, sliding up hard between my labia, making me jolt when the pressure rolls over my clit. "Dirk, I need it," I whimper, trying to roll my hips to feel even just that contact again.

"Now, don't be greedy," he murmurs, hair hanging down towards me as he rests one forearm beside my head, lips tickling mine. "This is enough."

It absolutely isnot. I moan, half pained, half ecstasy, and I can't brace for it as his head dips lower, back bowing to flick his tongue over my hardened nipple. My chest slickens with sweat, and I pant like I've just run several blocks.

"Tell me what you need," he whispers, between swirling his tongue.

My back arches, burning, aching where he's inside me again, two inches, a pressure my whole world feels centred around until he flicks his tongue once more. "You, I need all of you." My hips try to buck, but the weight of his hand on my hip turns it into more of a flinch.

"All of me?"

I nod, maddened, willing to do or say anything at this point.

"How about… this much?" And he presses, harder and thicker than I've ever felt him before, but still not flush. Somehow, getting more makes me need more. I whimper as his weight comes over me, belly flush to mine, but still holding his cock back. I wriggle, to no avail. That noise I've come to associate with such torture comes from deep in his throat again. "I could keep you like this," he whispers.

I whimper, louder, my hand gripping his hip, his firm ass, trying to urge him deeper. But of course, his opposing strength has me helpless. "There's so many ways I want you…" Kissing me, tongue finding mine, he claims my mouth like I want him to my body. "Beg me one more time,” he rasps.

I don't hesitate, pride be damned. "Please, give me all of your cock. I need it."

And, finally, dizzyingly, he does. I cry out as he slides, not a sudden thrust but an excruciatingly slow invasion, pressing deep and then crushing down against the apex of my thighs, pushing them wider and himself deeper. I'm lost to it, gripping him as though I'm in danger of sliding away if I don't, holding on as he thrusts hard and slow, a longing so strong each time he recedes that I feel I may go mad. My body grips around him, my clit throbbing when he presses close and swelling when he leaves, then hypersensitive again when the pressure comes back.

If he stops now, I'll cry, or throw a tantrum.

Luckily, he doesn't. "Don't stop," I breathe, as much as I'm able to form any words. "I'm going to come. Don't…"

"I'm not going to stop," he promises, the words coming out like a threat. Keeping that slow, languorous rhythm, Dirk's hand grips my hair, keeping my face turned to his, watching my eyes, my open mouth, as I lose the ability to move in any kind of rhythm with him, as language and thought falls away and all I am is a primal woman beneath a strong man and release is finally coming to stop me from going any more mad.

I cry out through the apex, sounding as pained as I am pleasured, unable to stop the torrent even if I wanted to. Dirk’s breath rasps against my ear, and just as the hypersensitivity is replacing the need, as clarity of any kind returns to my mind, Dirk's breath quickens and he pulls out, spilling hot on my stomach with a guttural groan.

Taking the moment to grab a tissue from the bedside table, he swipes it away, then falls to the mattress beside me, spent.

"You're cruel," I say playfully once my breath comes back. My chest is slicked with sweat.

Nonplussed, Dirk asks, "Did you expect me to be sweet?"

"No," I admit with a laugh.

He tilts his head against the pillow, eyes on me. "Did you expect me to beanything?" Lips twitching, he adds, "Beforeyou thought you were already fucking me?"

I consider. "It crossed my mind."

"And? What did you picture?"

Smiling, I tell him, "I was pretty accurate, to be honest. Knew you'd be a kinky bastard."

Huffing a laugh, Dirk turns his gaze back to the ceiling. I frown at him. "Did you ever picture… you know, this? When we were just partners?"

The noise he makes, almost a laugh, almost a groan, tells me he might have done more thanpictureit. "I tried not to."

Up on my elbow, I look down on him, gratified. "Do tell."

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