Page 111 of Savage Saint
I don't finish the thought, even in my head. Some words are too dangerous to acknowledge, even silently.
Instead, I kiss her, pouring everything I can't say into the press of my lips against hers. She responds immediately, her body melting against mine despite her hands gripping my shoulders with the strength of a fighter.
The kiss is hard and desperate. There's something final in the way her hands clutch my shirt, like she's trying to memorise the feeling. I grip her waist, pulling her closer until there's not abreath of space between us. Her mouth opens under mine, hot and demanding.
"If we die tomorrow," she whispers against my lips, "I want this to be what I remember in my last moments."
The words hit me like a physical blow. I've never feared death—not my own, at least. But the thought of her gone, extinguished from this world, makes something primal and terrified rise in my chest.
"We're not dying," I growl, but I kiss her harder anyway, pouring everything I can't say into it.
We undress each other slowly, deliberately. There's no one else on the jet except for the pilot, so I'm not worried about being walked in on. Each touch feels weighted with meaning. I trace the curve of her collarbone, the slope of her breast, the dip of her waist like I'm committing her to memory. My fingers find the brand on her hip, and I press my lips to it, reclaiming it. Reclaiming her.
Her hands aren't idle. They explore my chest, my shoulders, my back. She traces each scar like she's reading my history through my skin. When she reaches the waistband of my trousers, her fingers hesitate.
"I want to taste you," she says, her voice steady despite the flush spreading across her cheeks.
Before I can respond, she's sinking to her knees, her eyes never leaving mine as she undoes my belt with practiced ease. The sight of her like this—proud, powerful, and completely in control even on her knees—makes my cock throb painfully against the confines of my underwear.
She tugs my trousers and boxers down in one smooth motion, and I kick them aside. Her eyes widen slightly as she takes me in, and a small, satisfied smile plays at the corner of her lips.
"Gorgeous," she murmurs, wrapping her hand around the base of my cock.
The first touch of her tongue against the head sends electricity up my spine. She licks a slow, deliberate stripe from base to tip before taking me into her mouth, her tongue tracing the prominent vein that runs along the underside of my shaft. The wet heat of her is indescribable, silky, warm and perfect, and I have to lock my knees to keep from buckling under the intensity.
The sensation as she sucks on my cock is unreal. Her mouth is heaven, all soft lips and clever tongue as she establishes a rhythm that threatens to undo me completely. She starts shallow, working just the head with her lips and tongue, her hand wrapped firmly around the base. Each time she pulls back, she lets her tongue flick against the sensitive spot just beneath the crown, sending jolts of pleasure straight to my core.
She cups my balls, rolling them gently in her hand while her mouth works its magic. The dual sensation, the careful massage of her fingers against the sensitive skin while her mouth creates perfect suction, has me groaning low in my throat. My hands tangle in her strawberry blonde hair, not to guide but simply to ground myself, to have some anchor to reality while she systematically destroys every defence I've ever built.
Her technique is maddening in its precision. She alternates between long, slow strokes that take me deeper into the warmth of her mouth and quick, teasing licks that focus on the most sensitive parts.
"Fuck," I hiss as she hollows her cheeks, creating suction that makes my vision blur at the edges.
She works me with a confidence that would be infuriating if it didn't feel so fucking good. Her hand strokes what her mouth can't reach, twisting slightly on the upstroke in a way that hasme seeing stars. She hums around me, the vibration sending shockwaves of pleasure through my body.
Pulling back slightly, she lets my cock slip from her mouth with an obscene pop. Her lips are swollen, her eyes dark with desire as she looks up at me. "You like that?" she asks, her voice husky.
"You know I do," I manage, my voice strained.
She smirks, then takes me deeper than before, relaxing her throat until her nose presses against my stomach. The sight of her, lips stretched around my cock, eyes watering slightly but determined, nearly undoes me.
She sets a rhythm that has me teetering on the edge embarrassingly quickly. Each slide of her mouth, each flick of her tongue against the sensitive underside, each gentle squeeze of my balls brings me closer to the brink.
"Wait a fucking minute," I growl, pulling her off my cock with more force than I intended. "I need to taste you."
I haul her to her feet, ignoring her surprised gasp as I flip her upside down. I lie back on the seats, positioning her so her mouth is level with my cock while I have perfect access to her pussy. The position leaves her completely exposed to me, and I take a moment to admire the view, her pink, glistening folds, already wet for me.
"Angelo," she breathes, her voice tinged with uncertainty and arousal.
"Get back to my cock, Butterfly," I command, and she obeys immediately, taking me back into her mouth.
I spread her with my fingers, revealing her most intimate parts to my hungry gaze. She's absolutely fucking beautiful. Pink and swollen with arousal, glistening with her wetness. Her clit is begging for my attention, practically throbbing under my scrutiny. I lean forward and taste her with a broad, possessive stroke of my tongue, groaning at the first hit of her flavour.
Her hips jerk violently, and she moans around my cock, the vibration making me groan against her cunt. The feedback loop of pleasure is intense—each desperate sound I draw from her sends shockwaves straight through my cock, which makes me redouble my efforts between her thighs. I eat her like a starving man at his last meal, messy and unrestrained.
My tongue explores every fold, every ridge, mapping her pussy like I'm claiming territory. When I push a finger inside her tight heat, she whimpers, her body clenching around the intrusion so hard I nearly lose it. Her movements on my cock become jerkier, less coordinated as pleasure overtakes her control. She's trying to suck me properly but keeps getting distracted, pulling off to gasp and moan.
"That's it, baby," I growl against her wet flesh. "Lose control for me."
