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“But Tessa, you can’t tell anyone,” Wren whispers urgently. “Not even Saint. Especially not Saint. Promise me.”
“Hint, it involves those silk ties I absolutely refuse to wear to the office. Because I think they’d suit you far better, tied down and spread wide on that bed like a good girl, while I make that tight pussy clench until you see God.”
I look around, curious. I haven’t been up here, besides Saint’s insistence that we fuck in every room in the house to celebrate my arrival.
“Says the man who keeps a Taylor Swift record hidden in the back of the case. Yes, I found it,” I add, smirking. “You’re going to have to work harder to hide your guilty pleasures, now I’m living under the same roof.” “Who’s guilty?” Saint retorts, his dark eyes sparkling with mirth. “You know me, darling. I embrace all my pleasures wholeheartedly. And for the record, folklore is an underrated classic.”
“The bird is for Wren,” he says softly. “So you can carry her with you, always.”
No matter what happens next, I won’t let anyone hurt her. She’s mine, and I’m going to keep her safe. Whatever the price.
He gives a smile, even as I see the conflict in his eyes. “Anything for Wren.”
“On my knees for you, baby? Giving that sweet pussy the tongue-lashing it deserves? Or on my back, watching those magnificent tits bounce as you milk my cock dry?”
“One day I’m going to tie you down and come over every inch of you. Spend the day making you scream with pleasure, and jacking off over your perfect tits, until you’re painted in my cum. Marked as mine.”
“You need this dick so deep, you’ll feel me for days.
My voice roars,
“You know what’s coming, don’t you? You can’t wait for this cock to fill you all the way up.”
I howl.
Screaming myself hoarse as Saint showed me exactly what a pair of security handcuffs could really do…
ultra-short silk swing dress
martini for me,
where’s my martini?!!!
“Show them what it’s like for a man to die from pleasure.” “Ask nicely.” The order falls from my lips before I can stop it, and Saint’s expression flares with surprise—and a new dark excitement. Power hums in my bloodstream, and I slowly circle my hips again. “If you want to come… Ask nicely,” I tease, panting there above him. Saint sounds a desperate groan. “Baby… Please.” I’m on fire. The way he’s looking at me, it’s like I’m the sole flame in a dark tundra; the only star in a clouded sky. The way they’re all looking at me. Waiting. For my permission. My gift of release. “Louder,” I command
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“Tessa, it’s you,” Saint says softly, his blue eyes fixed on mine. “You’re the one I want to spend my life with. Nothing else could ever compare.”
I see red.
he roars.
