The Saint (Notorious 3)

“Make me come,” she breathed.

“Good girl,” I whispered and did as she asked. And she shattered, so sweet in my arms.

ZOE

“More,” I whispered, once I could speak again. I was straddling his lap, the hard press of his cock against my belly. It was as if the orgasm had only increased my appetite, and now I shook for the man.

I kissed his damp lips, tasted myself on him and felt the fires burn hotter. “I want more,” I breathed against his lips, my fingers gripping his erection. I licked my thumb, my eyes locked on his, and circled the head of his cock.

I loved his control right now, the edge of his jaw, the burn of his eyes. Oh, that control was really the sexiest thing about him, because I knew what was on the other side of it.

A man unleashed.

And I really, really wanted him unleashed. That would be great; it would be totally fantastic. I just had to get him there.

His fingers slid back between my legs. “I’ll give you more,” he breathed. “I’ll give you as much as you can take.”

I wiggled away from his hands, sliding off his legs.

He was gorgeous in this light. All hard smooth muscles. I licked his nipple and he groaned, his fingers fisting in my hair.

Oh, I thought, I like that. To get more of it, I sucked on his nipple, bit gently with my teeth until he swore and arched against me.

Yes, I thought.

A man unleashed. We’re getting there.

I leaned back and looked up into his shuttered, smoldering eyes. He was still trying so hard to keep his control, but I was just going to have to try harder to break it.

Resting my weight on one arm behind me, I spread my legs, and his eyes blazed, drawn like a magnet to the damp curls he’d explored oh so thoroughly.

What to do? I thought, delighted and burning, feverish with this need to pull him apart. I touched my own breast, squeezing the nipple, and he groaned, his hands in fists at his side.

“Get up on your knees,” I whispered.

He quirked his eyebrow, but didn’t do it.

“Please,” I whispered. He smiled but still didn’t do it, watching my hand as my fingers toyed with my nipple.

Devil, I thought, my breath caught in my throat. Slowly, his eyes watching my every move, I put my hand between my legs, my thumb brushed my clitoris and I felt the surge of another orgasm coming.

“You feel so good,” he said. “Don’t you?”

I stopped, my body beginning to shake. This was supposed to break his control—mine was already broken.

“Up on your knees,” I said, and finally he shifted, getting up on his knees every muscle flexing and moving, like a statue brought to life.

I rewarded him by curling my hands around his cock. He hissed at the touch of my fingers.

His erection pulsed in my hands and I kissed the head, felt it leap against my lips.

“Zoe,” he moaned, his voice broken and hot as if burned by a terrible fire. I licked him, sucked him. Did every wicked thing to him that he’d done to me.

“Touch yourself,” he breathed. “Touch yourself while you suck me.”

Oh! I thought. So dirty! It was sinful, depraved, but I did it, my fingers in my damp curls, my secret places.

His fingers, so big and callused, curled over the hand I had between my legs, driving me faster against myself until a giant wave lifted me up.

“No,” I said, pushing his hands away.

“I thought you wanted more,” he said, the devil in his eyes. His lips.

“With you,” I whispered, looking him in the eye as I licked him, top to bottom. He shook, small tremors really that I could only feel because I was right there, pressed against him. My mouth was full of him, my body ached for him and my heart…well, my heart needed to mind its own business. My body was running this show.

“I’m not—” His smile was broken. Chagrined. His fingers touched my neck, lifted my chin until he slipped away from me. “I’m going to lose it, Zoe,” he said as if it were a bad thing.

“That’s sort of the idea,” I said, getting to my knees, so close to him my breasts dragged up against his chest. Again I felt his shaking.

“I…” His hands touched my stomach, cupped my breasts. His thumbs stroked my nipples. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, laying a hand flat against the swell of my belly. It was so tender, the most tender touch I’d ever felt in my life, and my heart strained hard against my chest, a bird beating at its cage.

“You won’t hurt me,” I said, trying to muscle my heart out of the picture, because I was beginning to feel less like a porn star and more like a woman in danger of falling in love.