I hesitate, just ever so slightly, looking up into his wild and ferocious gaze.
“Indie…” My name is delivered softer than the fire behind his eyes would make you believe.
The loss of control from just a moment ago, regaining through the darkness, slipping through the haze.
He’s not giving me a warning; he’s giving me a chance to back out.
But I take the reverse, wrapping my lips around his cock, causing Saint to throw his head back, his hands fisting as both slam against the mirror, sounding a crack, and he grits through his teeth.
“Fuuck.” The way that growl rumbles through his chest has my thighs trying to squeeze together, the skin slick with my wetness, missing his friction.
I take him a little bit deeper, and his grey eyes blaze into mine.
“You tap my thigh if you want to stop,” he breathes, and I hum in response, causing him to flex his ab muscles.
I know Saint wouldn’t ever hurt me. He used to push me, take me close to my boundaries and then destroy any limits I thought I had.
But he’s never caused me harm, not the way they did.
He’s surging the power through me.
He’s letting me take control.
They tried to break it.
I draw my cheeks together, sucking as my hand guides my pace. The gym fills with Saint’s harsh breaths and the sloppy movements of my lips around him.
Watching him come undone used to send me feral.
He looks like a man who’s never been fazed by anyone, but I know different.
The memories have a spring coiling tightly inside me.
I run my tongue up his length, and Saint’s head hangs between his shoulders. His hungry gaze burns into mine whilst he watches me, voice rough but like a ribbon over my skin.
“Fuck, I’ve missed your mouth, baby.”
Everything comes flooding back, all the intimate memories I’d lock down to prevent myself from losing my mind.
Saint would always call me darling, but whenever he’d fuck me, when we were so lost in each other our minds were completely numb, he’d call me baby.
Hearing it from others used to make me cringe, but with him?
It would liquify my bones.
I swirl my tongue around his head, before taking him fully again. I try to get him further down my throat, but my lack of practice has shunted me, and I end up swallowing around him, but it causes his hips to buck.
Tears well in my eyes as I work him with my mouth and hand, massaging my tongue against the sensitive muscle under his head, and he loses it.
A hand slaps against the mirror, and I swear I hear a crack in the glass.
His hips thrust, fucking my mouth like I so desperately want him to do to me.
When he stills, I slink my hand behind his thigh as cum slips down my throat, feeling the veins pulsing against my inner cheeks.
I pull him out, and I’m gasping, my lungs fighting for air as I stare up at him through watery eyes.
I rise on shaky legs, but then he drops to his knees this time, and the little oxygen I did regain is stolen by the sight before me.
