“So fucking pretty,” he rasped against her skin, kissing his way up her neck to her jaw. “So wet for me. You have any idea how bad I want to drop to my knees and lick this pussy until you scream?”
She grabbed his forearm with both hands, digging her nails into the tattooed skin hard enough to sting as she used him for leverage. “I’m close,” she gasped. “God, Saint, I’m so close. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
A low, possessive rumble left his chest. “Come for me, Beth. Let me feel this pretty pussy squeeze my fingers. Show me what I do to you.”
He captured her mouth as he rubbed tight, fast circles over her swollen clit with his thumb. Her whole body went rigid, her back arching, and then she shattered, clenching around his fingers in rhythmic pulses as she screamed into his mouth. Her knees gave out completely, and he caught her weight easily, holding her up as wave after wave crashed through her.
She trembled for long seconds while he worked her through the powerful orgasm. Kissing became impossible as she lost coordination and focus. Instead, he kept his forehead pressed to hers, sharing the air.
After a few moments, the quakes slowed, and she blinked with heavy lids. “H-holy shit,” she whispered with a light chuckle. “That was… God, Saint, that was intense.”
He watched her as he slowly removed his hand from her pants, his fingers coated and shining. Her slightly disappointed grumble brought a smile to his face. She was beautiful like this—soft, sated, and staring at him like he hung the damn moon.
He lifted his hand, wet with her arousal, and held her gaze as he brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean one by one. Her lips parted, her breath catching, as she watched him taste her.
“Fuck,” he groaned. She was sweet, musky, and absolutely addicting. He could eat her for hours.
Before she could speak, he ran his thumb across her lower lip, leaving a trace of her own arousal behind. Her eyes widened, but he didn’t give her time to react. He leaned in and sucked her lower lip into his mouth, chasing her flavor.
“Delicious,” he whispered when he released her. “Can’t wait to bury my tongue in your pussy and make you come on my face.”
Next time? Fuck, you did not say that.
“N-next time?”
He’d said it. It was a promise he couldn’t make. Shouldn’t make. Tonight had been charged with a host of emotions. In the light of day, when they realized how far they’d jumped over the line, he’d bet she wouldn’t want a repeat. And he’d force himself to forget her sweet scent or the way her flavor was more potent than any drug he’d sampled. This was a one-shot moment of insanity. He’d got to see her come, to make her come, and now it was over.
And if his president found out, he’d skin Saint alive.
Fuck, what had he done?
He cleared his throat. “I should get you back,” he said as he released her.
Beth blinked and stepped back. Her hands went to her shorts, fastening them immediately. “Shit, uh, yeah. We’ve probably been here longer than we realized.” A strained laugh bubbled out of her, full of tension they hadn’t experienced before. “What about… um…” Her cheeks flushed, and she gestured toward the bulge in his jeans. The one that wouldn’t go anywhere until he got home and took himself in hand. “What about you?”
“Not sure you wanna get caught out here with my dick in your hand. Who knows who might drive by?”
If she found his sudden change in attitude hurtful, she didn’t let on. “Right,” she said with an awkward huff. “Good point. So, I guess, you can drop me off at my parents’, if that’s okay.”
He nodded. “Sure.”
Without another word, she walked to his bike and climbed on. When he sat himself in front of her, she settled her hands on his side with the lightest, most impersonal grip she could manage, basically holding the sides of his coat but not him. Even the night he’d found her in Texas, she’d sat closer and held him tighter. Now she seemed to want anything but to be near him.
That was probably for the best.
He kicked the bike into action and pulled out onto the windy mountain roads.
As they drew closer to his president’s house, the fact that he had made a huge-fucking-mistake slammed into him like a sledgehammer. No matter how loudly he told himself this was one and done, now that he’d had his hands and mouth on Beth, he didn’t think he could resist another chance to touch her if the opportunity presented itself, which meant he’d have to keep his distance.
CHAPTER TWELVE
DESPITE NOT FALLING asleep until sometime after two in the morning, Beth woke with the sun. A mess of emotions swirled in her head, heart, and stomach before she even opened her eyes. Regret and shame for yelling at her father, annoyance at him for his rigidity and refusal to see her as an adult, frustration with her seeming limbo in life, and shock over the lines she crossed with Saint.
Of course, part of her still buzzed with lingering pleasure left behind by his talented hands and hungry mouth. Her inner thighs ached from how hard she’d clenched them together as she came, and every time she shifted, she felt the phantom press of his fingers inside her, the ghost of his breath hot against her neck. She was still slick between her legs, her body refusing to forget what her mind kept trying to file away as a one-time mistake.
God, what a mistake.Not because it was bad. No, no, no. The mistake came from the fact that she’d be thinking about him all day, every day, for the foreseeable future, and wishing she could go back for seconds.
And thirds.
