Dirty Sexy Saint (Dirty Sexy 1)

It took a few minutes for his heart to stop racing and his breathing to return to normal, and when he finally opened his eyes again, he found her still kneeling on the floor in front of him, a pleased smile on her lips. And she had every right to be delighted with herself, because she’d just ruined him for any other woman.

Instead of dwelling on the implication of that unsettling thought, he focused his attention on making sure that he returned the favor and that Samantha was equally satisfied. Especially when he thought about what she’d told him about her ex, that he wouldn’t touch her between her legs because he was a germ freak. Before they were done, Clay was not only going to touch her soft, wet pussy with his fingers, he would lap up her delectable juices with his tongue and make sure every inch of his cock was covered in all that slick moisture while making her come as hard as he had.

“Stand up,” he said, back in control again.

Her eyes widened at the authoritative tone of his voice, but she quickly scrambled to her feet in front of him. He met her bright, anxious gaze and sat forward in his chair, his pants still undone. Keeping his eyes locked on hers, he lifted his hand and skimmed his fingers up the inside of one quivering thigh. His hand disappeared beneath the hem of her short skirt, traveling up, up, up, until he reached the silky barrier of her panties.

He pressed two fingers against the heated crotch of her underwear, which was soaked through with arousal—all from sucking him off. “You’re fucking drenched,” he murmured. He lightly rubbed her through the wet fabric, loving the helpless little sounds she made in the back of her throat. “And you’re needy, too, aren’t you?”

“Yes. So needy,” she whispered almost desperately as she pushed her hips toward his hand, trying to increase the pressure of his fingers against that sweet spot he’d yet to truly focus on. “I need to come so badly.”

“Don’t worry, I promise we’ll get there.” His face was now level with her stomach, and he skimmed his mouth along the bare skin there, licking the sensitive patch of flesh below her navel, just like she’d done to him.

She moaned and shifted anxiously on her feet. “Clay…” she implored softly.

Not yet ready to ease her ache, he ignored her needy plea and slid her panties off, letting them drop to the floor, a pile of wet silk at her feet. She stepped out of them, pushing them aside.

He eased his hands around to the backs of her knees and slowly glided his palms up her thighs, then beneath the hem of her skirt, gradually making his way up to the curve of her ass. “Take off your top and bra so I can see your pretty breasts,” he ordered.

She quickly drew the blouse over her head, then unclipped her lacy bra, and the two garments joined the growing collection of clothes on the ground. He couldn’t contain his deep groan of appreciation as her full, fuckable breasts bounced in front of him. His cock twitched with renewed lust as he ate her up with his eyes, his gaze coming to rest on her face.

Standing in front of him nearly naked, her hair now slightly disheveled, she was stunning and utterly magnificent, her skin pale and smooth like fresh cream. Her rosy areolas and pink, pouty nipples were a vivid contrast against all that luminous skin. Not sucking one of those hard peaks into his mouth was one of the most difficult things he’d ever forced on himself.

She reached behind her to unzip her short skirt, but he stopped her before she could execute the move. “Leave it,” he said, and when she looked at him in confusion, he grinned up at her wickedly. “I want to fuck you with the skirt on.”

With her breasts exposed and that tiny skirt covering her bare pussy beneath, she was his erotic fantasy come to life, as well as the bad girl she wanted to be.

Still sitting in his chair, he tipped his head as he stared into her hazy eyes and decided to ramp up the pleasurable stakes between them. “How dirty do you want this first time to be, Cupcake?”

“So dirty,” she whispered, her features etched with sexual need as she pushed her fingers through his short hair. “Defile me, Clay. Make me yours, any way you desire.”

Jesus, he thought, as his breath left his lungs in a rush. She’d just given him carte blanche with her body, and he planned to defile her in the most enjoyable, satisfying way.

He leaned back in his seat. “Straddle me, your legs on either side of my thighs,” he instructed.

She moved in, her legs spread wide on either side of his. When she started to lower her ass to rest on his thighs, he grabbed her hips and pulled her back up. “No sitting,” he ordered. “Put your hands on the chair by my head and brace yourself.”

She did as he asked, the position automatically arching her upper body and placing her swaying breasts right in front of his face, right where he wanted them. He grinned up at her as he slipped a hand beneath her skirt and brushed his fingers up her inner thigh once again, her damp arousal greeting him even before he touched her weeping flesh.

“Keep your legs wide open. I want to finger fuck you,” he said, as he dragged those same fingers between her soft folds and pushed two deep inside of her tight heat. “This way you can grind against my hand while I suck your gorgeous tits.”

She whimpered and arched her back, offering up what he was dying to taste. He captured a nipple between his lips, flicked his tongue against the hard nub, and tugged it between his teeth before opening his mouth and taking as much of her as deep as he could. At the same time, he swept his thumb across her swollen clit and dragged his slickened fingers in and out of her, again and again, working her over until her sexy little body started to tremble and tense.

She tossed her head back, her uninhibited, panting breaths filling his ears. “Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God,” she moaned wildly, as she shamelessly undulated her hips against the hand between her legs, brazenly seeking the release he could feel was right on the verge of splintering through her.

He scraped his teeth across a tender nipple and bit down on the taut bead of flesh, imparting just enough pain to send her over that final edge. She gasped for breath, her entire body jolting and shuddering as her internal muscles clenched around his stroking fingers.

She came on a soft cry of pleasure, a sound that went straight to his dick and made him ache for her all over again as a single thought haunted him.

Would he ever get enough of her?

Chapter Eight

Samantha collapsed against Clay’s chest, her mind spinning in the aftermath of her phenomenal orgasm, his breathing just as erratic as her own. Her face was tucked against his neck, and she’d inadvertently trapped his arm between them—so his long, thick fingers were still buried deep inside her core, and her internal muscles clenched around him.

His arm twitched as he tried to remove his hand from between her legs, but she was obviously dead weight, and he couldn’t budge.

“You need to sit back, Samantha,” he said, his voice a combination of amusement and gruff, aroused man.