Page 75 of Only Mine
I take him deeper, hollowing my cheeks as I work him with my hand and mouth together. The weight of him on my tongue, the salt-sweet taste, the way his muscles tense with each movement quickly becomes my new addiction. His exhales turn ragged when I find a rhythm that has him cursing in French.
When I glance up, Saint’s watching me with an intensity that makes my core throb. His jaw is clenched, the tendons in his neck standing out as he fights for control.
“Stop,” he finally growls, gently pulling me off him. “I’m not finishing like that. Not our first time.”
He flips me onto my back in one smooth motion, his body covering mine. The weight of him is delicious, his skin hot against mine.
“Condom,” he repeats, reaching for his discarded jeans.
I watch as he tears the packet open with his teeth, rolling it down his length. Then he’s positioning himself between my thighs, the blunt head of his cock pressing against my entrance.
“Say it again,” he demands. “Tell me you want this.”
I give him a deep, consuming kiss as my answer, hoping I steal both his breath and his sanity. I feel him at my entrance, teasing, the barest hint of pressure.
He pushes in, just the tip, then pulls back, making me moan.
“Saint, don’t be mean…”
His answer is to lift my ass for a better angle and keep stretching me with a slow, purposeful thrust that has us both groaning into each other’s mouths.
The initial burn gives way to exquisite fullness as he sinks deeper, filling me completely. He stills when he’s fully seated, giving me time to adjust to his size.
“Fuck,” he hisses, forehead dropping to mine. “You feel like heaven.”
I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. “Move. Please. I’m going insane.”
He silences me with a kiss that’s all ownership as he loses control and goes full throttle. Saint’s hands pin mine above my head as he builds a rhythm that has me stuttering his name.
“Look at me,” Saint commands, his voice thick with need. “I want to see your face when you come around my cock.”
His order sends heat flooding through me. I meet his gaze, drowning in the blue fire of his eyes as he drives into me harder, faster. The coil of pleasure tightens again, impossibly intense after my first orgasm.
When his thumb finds my clit, circling in perfectly timedcircles to match his thrusts, I’m lost. The pressure builds impossibly fast, every nerve ending alight with sensation as he drives me toward the edge.
“That’s it,” he growls when my walls begin to flutter around him. “Give in to me.”
The orgasm hits like lightning, more intense than the first, tearing a scream from my throat as pleasure pulses through every inch of my body. Saint doesn’t slow, fucking me through it, his jaw cutting through his skin as he watches me come apart beneath him.
“So fucking beautiful,” he rasps, his rhythm faltering as my body squeezes him.
He flips us suddenly, bringing me on top without breaking our connection. The new angle seats him impossibly deeper, drawing a shocked gasp from my lips.
“Ride me,” Saint commands, his hands gripping my hips.
I plant my palms on his chest, the ink beneath my fingers slick with sweat as I begin to move. His eyes eat me up, tracking the bounce of my breasts, the place where our bodies join. The power of being above him, of controlling his pleasure, is mynextnew addiction.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, one hand sliding up to cup my breast, pinching my nipple until I cry out. “A fucking natural rider.”
His words fuel something primal in me. I roll my hips faster, chasing that building pressure again. Saint’s fingers dig into my flesh hard enough to bruise, guiding my movements as he thrusts up to meet each downstroke.
“That’s it,” he encourages, his voice strained.
“I can’t—” I gasp, overwhelmed by sensation.
“You can,” Saint insists, his hips snapping up harder. “One more. Give me one more.”
He sits up suddenly, wrapping an arm around my waist tohold me against him as he takes control. The change in position has him hitting a spot that makes dynamite go off inside me.
