BAD SAINT (All the Pretty Things #1)

Book 2 Four-5

Saint hums low as I continue kissing and suckling the column of his neck. I’m in control, which is a rare thing, and I’ve never felt more powerful than I do right now. He falls back onto the mattress, taking me with him. He lifts the hem of my dress, caressing my thighs as I devour him.

His scent punches me low, and I can’t help but rub myself over his hard-on. We both moan as this feeling is just too much. “I know you want me too.”

“Oh, f**k,” he growls, detouring to my ass and squeezing hard. “For once, I’m trying to do the right thing.”

“I don’t want you to,” I counter, biting over his racing pulse.

Each flick of my tongue shatters Saint’s resolve, and before long, he surrenders. He doesn’t fight me as I smash my lips to his and kiss him fiercely. Nor does he move a muscle when I unbuckle his belt and unfasten his zipper.

The moment I thrust my hand down his pants and grip his luscious c**k, his hips rocket off the bed with a guttural growl. He is hot and heavy in my hand. I don’t know where to start, so I gently push my underwear aside. I want to feel him pressed up against me. I position my hips and rock forward, gasping when I feel his blunt head nudge at my entrance that is slick with my arousal.

Our lips are still locked—our breaths heavy and mingling as one—so feeling this connection down low just adds to the heightened sensation, and I whimper, needing more. I have no idea what I’m doing, but I continue rubbing him over my heated flesh because it feels so good.

All it would take would be a slight shift of my hips, and my bargaining chip would be gone for good. To feel him buried deep within me, claiming every part of me—mind, body, and soul.

I know it would hurt because of Saint’s size, but I want the pain. I welcome it. Pain makes me human. So with a deep breath, I brace myself for the intrusion…but it never comes.

The room spins before me as Saint flips us so I’m now the one lying on my back. He hovers over me, his eyes wild. “I said no,” he breathlessly pants, biting over my jaw.

I groan in desire and frustration. “Saint—”

But he doesn’t let me finish because what he says next leaves me a whimpering mess. “What I should have said was no, not now.” He trails kisses down my throat and over my breasts as he slithers down my body. “However, once you’re safe, and if you still want me…then the answer will be yes.”

I arch my back when he nestles between my legs, lifting my hem. His lips form an absolutely wicked smile when he focuses on my s*x, and with a quick tug, he rips my underwear clean off. It pleases me for two reasons. One—it gives me great pleasure seeing something Alek bought for me destroyed. And two—it’s f*****g hot.

But I can also play that game. “I will always want you, Saint.”

My words are like a trigger because a primitive growl bursts from him before he lowers his lips to my core and suckles. I cry out, threading my fingers through his long hair, needing something to hold on to before I float away.

The ferocity with which he consumes me leaves me in twisted, desperate knots. He isn’t gentle, but I don’t want him to be. He spreads my legs open and goes in deeper. I am lost to his tongue, his mouth as he samples me without apology.

I ride his face, uncaring that I demand he put me out of my misery because I just want to come. He sinks two fingers into me, spreading me impossibly wide. I cry out, but soon realize these walls have ears, so I use my fist to mute my pleasured screams.

My body reaches the pinnacle impossibly fast, and I’m too weak to fight it. But before I am lost to the quiet, I whimper, “Teach me to be like you. Teach me how to fight.”

Saint’s hot breath ignites my skin, and I writhe madly. “Okay, aнгел, I will.”

When he drives his tongue deeper into me, I bow my back on the cusp of exploding. “Thank…you,” I pant, squeezing my eyes shut. “The next time I meet those men, I will be prepared.”

He doesn’t need me to elaborate who.

“I will always protect you,” he promises between f*****g me with his mouth.

The sentiment along with his actions has me embracing my orgasm, but not before I confess, “And I…you. Oscar wants you…but he can’t have you because…you belong…to me.”

Saint pauses, surprised that I’m privy to Oscar’s attraction to him, before he slaps his tongue over my c**t, making me see stars. “And you belong to me…Willow.” I’m swathed in everything Saint, and without a choice, I come…and I come hard. And loud.

Crawling up my body, he smashes our mouths together to mute my scream. I can taste myself on his lips, which just heightens my orgasm. His kisses destroy me, and I grow lax, my body trembling with the aftermath. My heart pounds fiercely, and I can’t wipe the smile from my cheeks.

We lie entangled, both our guards lowered as we rest nose to nose. We don’t have to say a single word because our lust-ridden gasps are all the speech we need. However, when a soft knock sounds on the door, my ecstasy shatters, reminding me this is all Saint and I will have—stolen moments in time.

“Willow, please come back to your room. Alek will be looking for you.” It’s Sara.

Saint brushes the hair from my cheeks, nothing but regret pooling in his eyes. But we both know she’s right. “You look beautiful. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

And just like that, I fall even harder.

Once I’ve said a sorrowful goodbye, I creep back to my room, ensuring to stay hidden in the shadows because just like Saint—I now belong in the darkness.