“Once I put my mouth on you, you’re fucked.” Her smell is intoxicating. A potent concoction of sweet and illicit, the kind of smell you want on the tip of your tongue. The kind of smell you can taste.
“It doesn’t matter to me.” The curve of her soft lips brushes mine.
That does it. She goes to pull away, but it’s too late, my mouth is on hers. She pauses for a moment before her soft lips start kissing me back. I pull her toward me until I’m back on the bed, and she lands on my lap while spreading her knees wide to straddle me. Her mouth never releases from mine, her tongue curling around mine every few seconds like she’s done this numerous times before. I know she hasn’t. I fucking know she hasn’t. I pull back, leaning on the mattress with one elbow, my eyes on hers. Flicking my tongue over my lips, I soak in every bit of what she’s left behind. She sits here on my lap, open to me. Without a word.
“You don’t want this…” I murmur, as much as it fucking pains me to say it. My cock is rock hard, and I tilt my hips up, rubbing it against the center of her thighs.
Her eyes close, rolling to the back of her head. Jesus fucking fuck. My hand flies up before I can stop it, clutched around her throat. Her eyes slowly open, latching on to mine like a trap. She doesn’t jump. There’s no flash of panic on her face. She’s completely still, locked in the trance we’ve started. A trance that could end us both. We could do this, have this, but for what? I can’t offer her anything more than what she already gets from me, and just sayin’ that’s already a fucking lot.
“You don’t want this,” I repeat, my hand secure around her throat. It looks good there. The veins pulse beneath my flesh, her jugular throbbing against my palm.
“How can you be so sure?” she asks, and then I see red when she tugs her bottom lip between her teeth and sinks them into it.
Tensing my grip around her throat, I pull her down on top of me, my hands cupping her ass when her mouth is back on mine. I know I have to take this carefully, and I don’t do fucking careful, but it’s Saint.
Fuck.
With the battle rumbling deep inside of me, I do nothing to push her away. My hands find her curves, her ass, her thighs. Dipping beneath her shorts, I squeeze her ass cheeks roughly, biting on her lower lip while grinding my dick up into her. She rubs herself over me and I know what she needs. Why she came in here. She didn’t mean to kiss me, or wrap her sinful legs around my waist while whispering sweet fucking nothings directly into my mouth.
She needed release.
I deepen the kiss, her fingers at my neck, in my hair, down my already damp chest. She rolls her hips over me with control, but I squeeze her hips and take it back, directing her over my girth with slow, pressured strokes.
“Fuck.” I need to bite down on something to stop myself from focusing on the way my piercings feel grazing over her pussy. She drops her mouth onto mine again, feeding me her sexy little moans, and I eat them up like I’ve been fasting and she’s the feast I’ve always wanted. Which she is.
“Brantley…”
My grip tenses, and out of complete fucking impulse, I bite down on her lip, dragging it into my mouth until the first drop of blood spills over the tip of my tongue. Her moans deepen in my mouth, and I don’t even have time to fucking realize I hurt her. I don’t care, and more importantly, she doesn’t seem to either…
I have two options right here, right now.
I could let her dry hump me into a fucking bad mood and take out my aggression in the gym, or I could give her exactly what she and I both want: me buried inside of her so fucking deep that she’d feel the indentation of my cock every time she fucking breathes for the next few weeks.
I go with the latter. My hands come back to her ass as I lift us both off the bed, spin around, and throw her down on her back while undoing the button on my jeans.
“Do you have a condom?” she asks, her hair wild, cheeks flushed, and lips swollen from all the kisses I just stole.
“What’d you just say?” I bite out harshly, the words leaving her lips like a bucket of ice-cold water.
“Don’t we have to use a condom?” she whispers again, not catching my obvious switch in mood.
My fingers hover over the band of my jeans, but I release, allowing my arms to drop to either side of my body. “You already assumed that I’d fuck you?” I snarl angrily, my lip curled. Now in hindsight, I know I’m being irrational, but I don’t give a fuck. It bothers me that the word condom left her mouth. It fucking bothers me that all it took was for me to kiss her and she’d open her legs for me, even though that’s what I wanted. I had every plan to tear her in half and take what I know I want.