Contracts again.
And then releases.
I almost think it must be someone else's pleas for mercy, because I don't even recognize my own voice.
Tears are welling in my eyes from the release of endorphins in my bloodstream, and I almost panic. I can't let him see me cry for God's sake. He'll think I'm a nut job.
"Sabrina." His bass heavy voice calls out to me.
I open my eyes and look down at this magnificent beast, still on his knees, licking his glistening lips, and watching me closely.
"In front of me you can do anything. Say anything. Don't hide from me. Ever."
"I don't know why–"
"I know why. I know exactly why."
Saint stands up and pulls his long sleeved tee over his head while he watches me intensely.
"You need to understand while rules are in place for a reason, often there are going to be times when you have to break a few."
He unbuckles his leather belt and lets it clunk to the floor.
"I said I wasn't going to touch you. That all I was going to do was look at you. And watch. But I'm going to break that rule. I still want to watch, but this time it's going to be watching you bounce up and down on my dick until you come just like that again. That shit was fucking epic."
"Saint–"
"And that's another thing." His pants drop to the floor. "You talk too much."
Saint seems to take delight in the fact that my eyes widen when I see the enormous bulge bursting through his pair of black fitted boxers.
"I thought you knew why they call me the Gunslinger." He taunts while he slides his boxers down to the floor.
"No," I say with a dry swallow.
"You thought it was actually about football?"
"Yes," I manage to eek out.
"No baby, it's because I'm packing a weapon down here, and I never miss my mark. I will fuck you long, and I will fuck you deep, and I guarantee to make you comehardevery single time. Great thing about that is we both win the game."
I don't know how to explain this; things are moving fast between us in slow motion. Saint reaches around me, and sends everything that was on my dining table to the floor with a crash. He slides me over, lays his back on the center of the table, and then straddles me across his thighs.
I watch in obvious wonder at his cock.
It's thick and wide and looks as powerful as the rest of him. It's brick hard and is bobbing up and down almost angrily. My mouth waters just imagining what it must taste like.
"You like what you see?" he asks with his usual bravado.
"Yes."
"If you want it, you need to claim it. Mount up and take it."
I've had sex maybe twice in my life on top. Both times it was a dismal failure. One guy's penis kept slipping out. I'm sure it was my fault, something about the motion of my ocean, but I never cared enough to keep trying. So I certainly have no idea how to climb up on top of this weapon of mass destruction and make it feel good for either of us.
"Get out of your head, Sabrina."
"I can't."
