Page 52 of Broken Saint

“Yeah?” I ask like a cocky motherfucker. But why the fuck shouldn’t I be? I’ve got a gorgeous, incredible woman in my bed stroking my ego. Life doesn’t get much better than this.

“Yeah. Don’t stop.”

I can’t help but laugh as I replace my mouth with my fingers, continuing to tease her.

“As if. I’ve got plans for you tonight, Bombshell. And none of them involve stopping.”

“Oh god.”

“Nah, Ella. Not God, just number forty-two.”

“Fucking hell, I don’t want to know how many times you’ve used that line,” she groans as I kiss down her stomach, my hands still working her breasts.

Her back arches and she moans again as I lick a line across the lace of her panties, my mouth watering for another taste of her.

She was always so fucking sweet.

“Used to be addicted to this pussy, Bombshell. Never had another to match it.”

“Enough with the lines,” she moans.

“They’re not lines. Just the truth.”

“Colt,” she warns.

“I’ll never lie to you, Ella. I thought you knew that.”

Tucking my fingers under the sides of her panties, I crawl lower down the bed and drag them down with me.

“Bra, Ella. I need to see all of you.”

I look up just in time to see her swallow nervously.

“Enough of that.” I tug her panties off with such fervor they rip at the sides.

I spread her thighs, holding her legs open with my hands on her knees.

“Bra,” I repeat, keeping my eyes on her body.

She might not like it, but she’s going to have to figure out a way to get used to it, because she’s not hiding from me. Not now, not ever.

Thankfully, this time she does as she’s told, and in only seconds her final item of clothing hits the floor and I dive for what I really want.

Holding her open, I lick up the length of her pussy, savoring the taste that I’ve been craving for way too fucking long.

“Colton,” she cries, her back arching as I eat her.

Her fingers twist in my hair, holding me so tight to her that I’m sure she’s about to rip it clean out. She can carry on. I’ll happily walk around tomorrow with an Ella-induced bald patch.

“Oh my god.”

“So good. So fucking good,” I moan without moving my lips from her pussy.

“Shit. Don’t stop,” Ella begs, her thighs trying to close around my head.

“Don’t think so, bombshell,” I groan, pinning her thighs back to keep her exposed. “Remember what I said about hiding?”

She whimpers as my hot breath rushes over her swollen, sensitive skin.