Merciless Saints (St. Monarch's Academy 1) - Page 49

“Of course,” I mutter.

“When?”

“During the ceremony.” I pull a pair of black sweatpants on and turn to Winter. “Get dressed so I can feed my wife.”

My words make her smile before she disappears into the bathroom. When she comes back out, she puts on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, sans any underwear.

I hold out my hand to her, and when she lies her palm against mine, my fingers close tightly around hers. We leave the room, and I’m glad when we don’t run into Alexei or Demitri on our way to the kitchen.

I take hold of Winter’s hips and lift her to sit on the table. Then I open the fridge and take the chicken leftovers out. I set the plate down next to her, and picking up a piece, I bring it to her mouth. “Open.” Winter’s lips part, and having her eat from my hand makes heat begin to slither through my body again.

While she chews the bite, I pour us each a glass of water. I set the glasses down next to the plate, then nudge her legs open and move in between them.

“We’re heading out on an errand,” Demitri suddenly says from the doorway.

Glancing at my brother and Alexei, I ask, “How long?”

“We’ll be back tomorrow,” Demitri answers. His eyes move between Winter and me, then he mutters, “Enjoy your wedding night.”

I watch them leave, then turn my attention back to Winter.

“We have the house to ourselves tonight,” she mentions the obvious.

I pick up another piece of chicken, and holding it to her mouth, I say, “You better eat. You’re going to need the strength.”

Her lips curve in a daring smirk as she takes the bite. Our eyes remain on each other as I feed her until she says, “Thank you. I’ve had enough.”

Taking hold of one of the glasses, I press the rim to her lips, and as she drinks, some spills down her chin and neck. I lean forward, and starting at the curve of her neck, I lick the wet trail to her mouth.

Setting the glass down, I move my hands to Winter’s hips and yank her against me. As her lips part, my tongue sweeps inside.

Our first time together was getting her to submit to me. Now, it’s purely about pleasure. I want to enjoy her body.

I begin to thrust against her, the fabric stopping me from taking her too fast.

Brushing my hands up her sides, I pull her shirt over her head and drop it to the floor. My gaze lowers to her chest, and I drink in the sight of her perfect breasts, pebbled hard for me.

I brush my knuckle over her nipple, and the corner of my mouth lifts as she responds with a sharp breath.

Lifting my eyes to hers, I say, “You like having my hands on your body.”

“Yes,” she breathes.

I palm her breast and watch as her lashes lower over her eyes before I murmur, “Good.”

I begin to knead her flesh until her breaths are rushing over her lips.

Closing the last of the distance between us, I press my forehead to hers. “Do you want me to fuck you, my Princess?”

She nods as her hands find my hips.

“Beg.”

Winter’s eyes burn on mine, and as an incentive, I rub my cock against her again.

Finally, she relents. “Please fuck me, Damien.”

Hearing her say the words makes a possessive growl build in my chest as I thrust harder against her. I push her to lie back on the table and strip the sweatpants from her body.

Keeping my own on, for now, I take hold of my cock through the fabric and press against her opening. Her need for me soaks through the material as I push hard to enter her with the head of my cock only, the fabric stopping me from going any deeper.

Winter lets out a throaty groan, and when she tries to reach for me, I grab hold of her hands again, pinning them down on either side of her head. With my upper body braced over her, my eyes drink in the need tightening her features as I begin to thrust with short strokes.

Her breaths begin to explode over her parted lips as I keep stretching her opening.

“Damien,” she gasps, and when I only grin at her, she tries to free her hands from mine.

That’s right, Princess. Fight me.

I grow impossibly hard, my balls aching as she squirms beneath me.

Her body begins to quiver, and knowing she’s close to finding the release she so badly wants, I pull away from her.

This time she lets out a frustrated growl as she glares at me. “Fuck me!”

I free my cock from my pants and position it at her entrance. “Who do you belong to?”

“You,” she grinds the word out, her breasts swelling and falling with every breath she takes.

Tags: Michelle Heard St. Monarch's Academy Erotic
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