We lay in bed, him curled around me as I tremble, his breath heavy on the back of my neck. I don’t know how I feel almost cherished in this moment, but it’s the closest I think I’ve ever gotten.
After a moment, when my limbs settle and the comfort of him around me shifts, he plants a soft kiss against the sensitive skin under my hairline. “Look at me.”
I roll, slowly, in the circle of his arms and peer up into his eyes. The way he caresses my cheek with his thumb.
“You’re safe now.”
Nodding, I believe him. He’s studying me, checking on me. How can this big brute of a man be so sensitive? So soft with me?
“Tell me you understand.”
Breath involuntarily hitches in my throat before I squeeze out the words. “I understand.”
That thumb of his dip to trace along my lower lip. “We can stop here if you want.”
Stop? No. I don’t want that. Not with the intimacy coiling around us. I snuggle closer, hands sliding along his chest.
“I don’t want to stop.”
His grumble isn’t one of displeasure, and I’m ready when his mouth covers mine, opening me up to the long, languid strokes of his tongue.
All of the fire and dread and fear, they evaporate into a heady need. For him. For my husband.
Big hands squeeze down my body, stopping at my ribs, my waist, my hips, and my sensitive ass. But it doesn’t hurt. Not anymore. It just makes me want him more.
He pulls my leg over his hip as he tips into me. His cock is hard as he grinds his hips into mine, hand at my knee to keep me where he wants me.
Part of me is still astonished that a man like this could want me at all.
Saint lifts himself over me, taking my flimsy tank top in hand and stripping it from me. When my back meets the comforter again, all I can see is the hunger in his eyes. It arches my back with a wanton lust.
I tug at the hem of his t-shirt, and I’m delighted when he strips it off at my silent request.
There’s a buffet of skin on display, and I’m starving. My hands move before I can think, spreading my touch over every pieceof him I can reach. He’s all muscles and dark hair. Nails scrape down his sides as he bends forward to encase me in his arms.
His kiss is short, traveling down my throat, across my collarbones, and off-course to surround one breast with his hot mouth even though I still have my lacy bralette on.
My back bows, following the sucking pressure and pleasure that lances through me. Those hazel eyes flash up to mine, molten and sparking with dark desires. It’s like he’s feeding on my pleasure.
I’ve never wanted to be a meal more than this moment.
Saint releases my breast and takes his time traveling down my soft stomach. The way his hands grip my hips makes me feel beautiful. My bottom heavy insecurities melt away at his reverent touch.
My lacy undies are tugged off me, and I’m squirming under his soft touches, waiting, waiting, waiting for his next move. When his mouth descends, I’m so sensitive that a cry escapes me before I can tamp it back.
He laughs softly and nips my inner thigh before feasting. God, the way he eats me has me rocking against his mouth. I’m surprised by how soft his beard is, how much it adds to the sensations he’s building in my core.
His groan vibrates through me, leaving me gasping. I’m on the brink of an orgasm, struggling to breathe when he sinks a finger into me.
“Oh, fuck.” Thighs shaking, I clamp down around his pumping digit, my body rolling on its own before settling back into the mattress.
I suck in a deep breath, my laughter feathering out of my lungs as he lifts himself over me.
God, all of that skin on display—it makes me greedy. Hungry. I want to taste every inch of his skin. I reach out for him, hands smoothing over his shoulders and chest.
Saint takes one and lifts my palm for a kiss.
I’m a goner.
