Taking the Fall (1-4)

“What the fuck?” the suit barks at Saint. Saint just gives him a look that could probably kill, and the man lifts his hands and backs away. Placing a hand on each side of the bar, he cages me in. I look back up into the mirror so I can see his face. My back leans into his chest as if it has a mind of its own. Like it belongs there.

“Mama,” he whispers into my ear, and it makes me clench my jaw. I’m sure he notices. He seems to notice everything.

“I wasn’t done with him yet and you owe me a shot,” I say, smirking at him in the mirror.

“One, I want you sober for what I have planned for you, and two, you don’t need him. You have me,” he whispers in my ear before taking my lobe into his mouth.

“Maybe I don’t want you anymore,” I moan, pissed at myself for letting it come out like that.

“Not a man in the place that’ll do what I’m willing to do for you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, Mama”

“And what would you do for me?”

“Any fucking thing you asked.”

Spinning in my chair to face him, I stand up, making him take a step back. “That so…Daddy?” Hey, if he’s going to call me Mama, two can play this game. He looks down at me, taking in what I have on: a short dress that shows off my legs in all their glory. I may not have curves like a lot of girls but I have killer legs. I see him visibly swallow.

I love that I affect him like this.

“I don’t know what to make of you, Saint. One second you say the most perfect things and the next…well, I just don’t know,” I tell him. It’s true. Sometimes he looks at me and I know that he wants me. Then other times he can get that deadly look in his face.

“Mama, you let me have you and I’ll be a docile fucking kitten that will eat out of your hand.”

I can’t help but smile at his words. I wonder if they’re true. Would Saint let me have my way with him? I can’t see a man like him letting me tie him to the bed or dropping to his knees. I don’t always like to be in control but sometimes it can be fun. A lot of men won’t give up that control.

“You’ll do anything I ask?” I question, wanting him to take the bait. If it’s a challenge it won’t make me feel so bad about my going back on my whole ‘I’m done with him’ convictions. Plus I want to prove him wrong. Men won’t do anything for you. They only do what gets them theirs. I learned that lesson a long time ago.

“If I said it got me off to shove my dildo up your ass, would you let me?”

“I have to say, Mama, that doesn’t sound too great but if you do it naked I think I can handle it…if it gets you off that is.”

It didn’t, but the idea that he would let me because I wanted to did.

Reaching up, I grab a handful of his hair and pull him down to kiss me. I might have initiated the kiss but Saint takes it over. He pushes his tongue into my mouth, not waiting for an invitation. This kiss is wet, uncontrolled and almost sloppy. It’s like he can’t get enough of my mouth. Next thing I know my legs are around him, and he is moving through the bar. I can hear the catcalls and hoots and hollers of the people around us, but I don’t care and Saint doesn’t seem to either. He keeps going at my mouth like a starving man. I feel his cock jerk against my panties, and then I feel a wetness. Oh, my God.

I break my mouth away from him “Did you just come?” I ask, all breathy as I try to suck air into my lungs.

“How could I not?” he replies as if it’s a crazy question and recaptures my mouth. Holy fuck. I close my eyes to shut everything else out and grind against his cock. He might have just come, but he is still rock hard, and I’m so very close to getting there myself.

I hear a click and open my eyes to see that we’re in the women’s bathroom. Saint locks the stall door.

“I hate to do this here, Mama, but I have to taste you,” he growls, before dropping to his knees in front of me. “I’m pissed I got to come before you. I promise I have better manners than that.”

He slides his hands up my dress and with one hard yank rips my panties off.

“Show me,” I challenge him. Reaching down, I pull at my dress until the material bunches at my hips.

“Now you show me,” I say, happy with the fact that my voice doesn’t crack. I’m confident when it comes to sex, but something about Saint shakes me.

Unbuckling his belt, Saint pulls his pants down a little and his cock springs free. I hear myself gasp. Not at the size—not that he isn’t large—but at the cock piercing he has.

I pull down the top of my dress so that my breasts fall free and expose my nipple piercings.

“Fuck me,” Saint growls. He wraps my destroyed panties around his cock and starts stroking himself with them.

“Not yet. But if you’re a good boy and eat my pussy, I might let you fuck me.” Before I can even finish my sentence, Saint has me in his mouth. I cum instantly, my whole body jerking, but Saint doesn’t stop.

His tongue plunges into me over and over, sweeping over my clit. Saint isn’t a tease. He wants to give me pleasure and he wants to give it to me now. When his teeth latch on to my clit, another orgasm hits me, harder than the first one. A moan is ripped from my throat and I’m shocked to hear it coming from me.