Page 27 of Break My Rules

“I tried tact!” I protest. “It wasn’t getting us anywhere! So, I figured I’d be direct.”

“And insult them, right to their faces,” Saint paces, agitated.

“It worked, didn’t it?” I shoot back. “We can cross him off the list.”

“But only because he’s innocent!” Saint exclaims, his eyes flashing in the dark. “You think the real attacker will just put his hands up and come clean? ‘Gee, sorry, you’ve got me there,’” he mimics. “You’ve got to be smarter than this. For Christ’s sake, I had a plan!”

“How was I to know that?” I demand hotly.

“Because this is my world,” Saint yells back. “My friends,my lifeyou’re bulldozing to the ground. The least you could let me do is figure out what kind of dynamite is best to use before you go and blow it all to hell!”

Saint’s voice echoes in the night, and we stand there in silence for a moment, breathing hard.

His world…

I realize with a pang just how much I’m asking of him. To turn on people he trusted, lie and interrogate them, to help me find the truth.

And he hasn’t hesitated, not for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, closing the distance between us. “I know this is hard for you. Having to pick sides, and to choose who you’ll be loyal to…”

“But it’s not!” Saint yells, flexing his fists at his side, his body still wracked with tension. “That’s the really fucked up part. Because it’s not hard to choose. Not even for a minute. It’s always you.”

I inhale in a rush, staring at him there on the sidewalk.

It’s always you.

Emotion swells, a rush of passion too strong to resist. I reach for him, all but hurling myself into his arms and pulling him down to meet me in a hot, wild kiss.

Saint groans against me, and in an instant, all our frustration and anger is channeled into white-hot heat, blazing there in the dark. He kisses me back, hard, yanking me closer; his strong arms pinning me in place as he takes control. I melt against him, eagerly parting my lips for him to taste and plunder, as I hold on for dear life.

More.

I swear, the way the lust takes us over, I could have torn his clothes off right there in the street, but somehow, Saint pulls away long enough to hail a cab, and we make it back to his place, careening through the door in a messy tangle of mouths and hands. He puts me back against the wall, kissing me furiously, his eyes still hot with frustration there in the dim hallway.

“You should have trusted me,” Saint growls, kissing his way down my neck. “Fuck, tell me that you trust me, Tessa.”

“I do,” I moan, as his tongue finds the sensitive hollow of my neck. “I’m sorry, I do trust you.”

He lifts me, and then we’re stumbling up the stairs to the bedroom, shedding clothes as fast as we can. “Damn,” he groans, seeing me bared in my new black lingerie. “I’m going to need a full show of what you got.”

“Later,” I manage, yanking him back to me by his collar. “Now, just take it off.”

“With pleasure.” Saint shoves me onto the bed with a bounce, covering me with his body, devouring me inch by inch. His mouth is on my breasts, his hands already parting my thighs, petting at my damp core as I gasp and writhe against him.

“Saint!” My voice rings out, echoing with need as he pulls down the lacy cups of my bra and feasts on me, teasing and toying with my nipples until they’re stiff and aching for him. I arch against his hand, needing the pressure, wantingmore.

He lifts his head, dark eyes and breathing hard. “Show me,” he orders, spreading my legs wider, throwing my ankles up around his shoulders. “Show me you trust me. That you can follow a damn order. Don’t you dare come until I say.”

He buries his head between my legs, and laps against my clit, sending me reeling.

Oh fuck.

I reach up blindly, hanging on to the bars of the headboard for leverage as Saint sets about licking me into a frenzy. “Yes!” I cry, as he thrusts two fingers inside me, pumping in time with his wicked mouth. “Oh God, right there.Yes!”

Saint is relentless, licking and swirling over my clit with devastating precision. I whimper helplessly, writhing beneath him, lost to the incredible friction and thick stretch of his fingers, curling deep inside. Pleasure surges, cresting, and it doesn’t take long before I’m trembling and close to the edge. He’s just too talented, his fingers and tongue driving me wild. “Please,” I beg, my voice rising with need. “Oh my god, Saint,please…”

I’m gripping onto the headboard so tightly, doing my best to hold the pleasure at bay, but it’s too good, too strong. I’m not going to last. “Saint!” I scream, as he pumps his fingers deeper, thicker—