Page 17 of Break My Rules
I can’t get enough.
“You like that, darling?” Saint massages, and I whimper, thrusting shamelessly back against his hand.God, yes.
He pulls me off his cock, panting. “Down,” he growls, and I barely have time to catch the flash of raw, wild lust on his face before the tile floor is cold against my back and Saint is on me, shoving my legs up around my ears and thrusting inside me with a roar.
I scream in pleasure.
His cock drives deep, so deep, I can hardly breathe.Too much. I try to pause to adjust to the thick stretch of it, but Saint doesn’t slow, not even for a second. He pounds into me, pinning me down on the floor, fucking into me, over and over, a riot of friction and grinding pleasure until I’m mindless, boneless, wailing at the top of my lungs and clawing at him in the frenzy.
“Saint!Fuck!”
It’s relentless. It’s a revelation. My cries mingle with his groans, and the filthy slap of our flesh, dirty and raw, and so fucking good I can’t even take it. I climax with a howl, digging my nails into his back as my body shatters in ecstasy.
And Saint just fucks me through it. I come again, over and over, fuck I lose count, I lose track of everything but the raw grind of his body, and the stretch of his cock, and the delicious grip of his hands on my wrists pinning me, trapping me, so there’s nothing I can do but take it.
Take everything he has to give, as I surrender completely to the inferno.
“Tessa!” Saint sounds a hoarse cry, and then he’s shuddering into me, roaring his release as our bodies shake, and tremble, until the madness fades; we’re left collapsed, almost unconscious on the floor.
Holy shit.
I gasp for air, reeling. Never in my wildest dreams have I ever been fucked like this before.Owned. Used, the way I asked him. I let out a stunned laugh of disbelief, pleasure still thick like stardust in my veins.
Saint lifts his head from the tile where he’s sprawled beside me, looking just about as spent as I feel. “Alright?” he asks hoarsely, but even in his exhausted state, he still reaches over to brush hair from my sweaty face, his gaze tender and questioning.
I nod. Or at least, I try. I’m still not sure I haven’t left my body completely.
“More than alright,” I manage, panting. “What the fuck…?”
He laughs, a low, ragged sound. “You’re going to kill me, you know that, right?”
“Me?” I drag myself over, so I’m nestled against him, recovering. “That was all you, professor.”
“Lies.” He idly strokes my hair, his breathing becoming steadier now. “Christ, Tessa… You’re incredible.”
I glow with satisfaction. “Right back at you.”
We lay there a moment, just basking in the sense of closeness and satisfaction, until I realize there’s a bubbling noise, coming from the stove. “The water!” I exclaim, and struggle to my feet. I round the table to find the pan is boiling to the point that it’s almost dry. I curse, grabbing a cloth, and Saint gets to his feet, stretching with a lazy yawn. “I’ll take it from here,” he says, tugging on his boxers. “You just recline over there, looking delicious.”
“You sure about that?” I ask, with a teasing smirk. “With your record in the kitchen…”
“I’m never going to live that down, am I?” Saint laughs and drops a kiss on my lips as he moves me aside, refilling the pan, and turning his attention to the sauce ingredients. “Go on, relax. You deserve to be waited on hand and foot after that display.”
“You know what? You’re right.” I beam, feeling like I’m floating on a cloud. If a gorgeous, almost-naked man wants to cook me dinner and tend to my every need, I’m not going to fight him on that. I pull on his shirt and button it, then hop onto a stool, and take a sip of the wine that magically wasn’t knocked over. “I’ll just sit here, enjoying the view.”
Saint grins, expertly chopping and sautéing, as I slowly come back down to earth. It’s different now, I realize, watching him cook. Our wild chemistry has been there from the start, but before, our sex was consumed by a kind of reckless thrill, the adventure of the unknown. It’s still there, driving me to the heights of pleasure, but there’s something new between us, too.
Trust.
One that lets me surrender completely, knowing that Saint will take care of me, no matter what. One that lets me be even more bold and shameless than ever before, because I can be certain that when the haze of lust ebbs away, I won’t be left with questions anymore.
We’re in this together now.
Saint plates our pasta, and joins me, sitting at the table. He presents my meal with a flourish, and I hungrily load a fork and take a bite.
“Mm, this is delicious,” I exclaim. “Not bad for a sous chef,” I add, teasing.
He chuckles. “I was just following your expert direction.” He refills our wine glasses, and we eat in silence for a moment, exhausted and ravenous. Then, when his plate is half-empty, Saint asks, “So, do you want to get started?”