Whatever he felt, given that my dick was having its own party pressed against his thigh.
It still wasn’t cold in his stove-warmed van, but he rubbed his hands up my arms all the same, the way he often did to Alexei when he seemed to stop thinking and let himself be.
I stayed still, unsure of what I’d do if I let myself move.
With Alexei, I’d know, or he’d tell me, smirking, as if he truly believed I didn’t see the man beneath.
Saint was different. So fucking different. Touching him was a field of landmines with a pot of gold on the other side. I knew it might kill us both, but now I’d had a taste of him, I was too selfish not to try.
Temptation got the better of me. Desire curled in my belly and I let it loose, reaching for him in the same moment he reached for me, lifting himself on one strong arm until we were eye level.
He kissed me first, in his way, not mine, and I fucking melted. His lips were soft and sweet, and he kept his tongue to himself, his fingertips barely grazing my bare skin as he slipped a hand beneath my clothes.
We tangled beneath the smoke-scented blankets, legs entwined, lips fused. I sought out his skin too and found a home for my roaming hands on his abdomen, re-familiarising myself with the ridges of muscle and the treasure trail that led beneath his waistband.
It amused me that he’d slept in the sweatpants he’d found himself wearing the morning after he’d come to bed with me and Alexei.
It consumed me that I needed them gone. Off. So I could feel the weight of his dick in my hand.
I pushed them away, coaxing him to lie over me as I shoved them over his hips, then ditched mine too. No underwear. I’d been in a hurry when I’d left the compound, following Alexei’s urging to reach Saint before we lost him to whatever the fuck was going on in his head.
My sweatpants disappeared. Saint helped me out of my hoodie and T-shirt and then lay over me again, still kissing me, his dick riding me as we ground together, a mess of sweat and desire.
Fuck, he’s good at this. My mind swam. I gripped his waist but let him keep the pace, drowning in the slow, hypnotic rhythm I’d seen in him before. The brain-addling thrust and grind of his sinful hips.
I want him inside me. But as the thought found purchase in my brain, Saint froze, before jerking away.
“Sorry.”
I chased him down. “What for?”
Saint rolled onto his back, but his attempt to put distance between us failed. His van was too small for that.
I loomed over him and asked again. “What are you sorry for?”
He said nothing, and for once, I didn’t believe that he couldn’t. He just didn’t fucking want to.
I brought my hand to his face, gripping his chin. “You’ve never asked me.”
Saint squeezed his eyes shut. Before this, before Alexei, I might’ve backed off, but I went nowhere. I waited him out, holding him tight until he opened his eyes with the unspoken question.Asked you what?
“What I want.” To be sure he understood the context, I straightened my injured arm and wrapped my fingers around his dick. “From this.”
Saint squirmed beneath me, scared of wherever this was going but unwilling to hurt me to escape. “I know what you want. I’ve seen it—I’ve seen you.”
“Seen me what? Fuck other people?”
“Fuck Alexei. I don’t care about anyone else.”
“Neither do I. Just him. And you. But that ain’t my point.” I pumped his cock, acclimating myself to how big he was. How hard and thick. “You think how I fuck him has any bearing on how I’d fuck you?”
His eyes widened before he caught himself, the flare of real fear a beacon he couldn’t contain.
I let go of his dick and rubbed his abdomen. “Easy. They’re just words. I don’t need anything from you that you don’t want to give.”
“How do you know I don’t want it?”
“Am I wrong?”
