Page 40 of Cross My Heart

He pumps his fingers, thrusting deep, andfuck, I feel my body stretch to accommodate him. Opening, blossoming with pleasure, the shivers starting to rise from the base of my spine.

“That’s right…” he breathes, eyes glittering on mine. Still gripping my jaw, he presses his thumb into my mouth, and I instinctively suck. “Fuck. That’s a good girl.”

Oh God.

I feel my body rising, cresting—

“Now come.”

I can’t resist him even if I tried. My orgasm slams into me, a wave of pure, wild pleasure. I cry out his name, forgetting that there are people downstairs. It doesn’t matter. All that I care about for just a moment is the feeling of ecstasy washing over me.

It’s so. Damn. Good.

Saint holds me through it, until I’m sprawled back against the desk, flushed and giddy, feeling the pleasure recede.

Then he withdraws his hand—lifting it to his mouth.

Slowly, he licks his fingers clean.

“Just as I thought,” he says, looking smug. “You taste delicious.”

I let out a breathless burst of laughter. “Did anyone ever tell you, it’s not attractive to be so damn cocky?”

Saint grins back at me, still perfectly groomed with not a hair out of place, despite just giving me an epic orgasm. “You seem to like it well enough,” he retorts.

I pull my dress down and get to my unsteady feet again. “The jury’s still out,” I lie, giving him an arch look—even as my legs feel shaky, and my body hums with pleasure. “I might need some more evidence to decide.”

“Just say the word.” Saint gives me a smoldering look, then chivalrously holds out his arm. “Shall we?”

I take it, my heart still racing. He’s a man of contradictions, alright. Standing there so dapper, with perfect manners, just moments after he was knuckles-deep inside me, ordering me to come.

But just as we’re leaving the room, I notice something on one of the black-and-white photographs on the wall, the one with him and his buddies, from years ago.

Except it’s not their faces I’m looking at this time, but the handwritten line I see scrawled on the corner of the photo matting.

‘Legacy is a gift, and our sworn bond.’

Chapter13

Tessa

Ikeep a low profile for the rest of the evening, and then give some excuses about early study to make a polite exit.

Heading home, my head is spinning.

Not just from the words on that photograph, the same as the note at the party, but from my encounter with Saint, too. The way he knew exactly what I liked—what Ineeded—and how effortlessly he drew my pleasure from my body, until I didn’t care about the risk of discovery, or what his guests might think.

There’s something about the man that seems to unlock a side of me I’ve never explored. The part of me that’s wild, passionate, wanton. Who moans with need, and greedily arches against his hands. Who throws caution to the wind, just to feel that sharp, wicked rush of pleasure.

Who is that woman?I wonder, as I let myself into the apartment, and go sit at my dresser, gazing at my reflection in the mirror. I’ve never seen myself like this before. I can still see the flush of my orgasm on my cheeks, and the liquid heat in my eyes, just remembering how it felt, pinned there against the desk, with his fingers stretching me open and his dark gaze watching my every gasp…

I shiver. I like it, this new, sensual version of myself. I want more.

But I can’t let myself forget for a moment why I’m really here. Even Saint’s expert fingers and wicked tongue shouldn’t distract me from my true mission, tracing Wren’s footsteps until I find what really happened to her.

And something tells me that Saint is my passport to the truth.

The secret society.