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Dirty Sexy Saint: Chapter 8


Samantha collapsed against Clay’s chest, her mind spinning in the aftermath of her phenomenal orgasm, his breathing just as erratic as her own. Her face was tucked against his neck, and she’d inadvertently trapped his arm between them—so his long, thick fingers were still buried deep inside her core, and her internal muscles clenched around him.

His arm twitched as he tried to remove his hand from between her legs, but she was obviously dead weight, and he couldn’t budge.

“You need to sit back, Samantha,” he said, his voice a combination of amusement and gruff, aroused man.

She leaned back on his thighs, surprisingly immodest about the fact that she was half naked and Clay was staring hungrily at the breasts he’d just sucked on. She shivered as he slid his fingers out of her, and groaned softly as he purposely dragged the tips through her sensitive flesh.

As he held her gaze, he lifted his hand to his mouth and boldly licked and sucked her essence off his fingers. His eyes were hot and hungry like a wolf, and she knew that primal craving had nothing to do with food and everything to do with her.

“I want more,” he said, and it wasn’t a request but a demand.

Her body responded to that dark voice as if he had a direct connection to her sex. Clay, all alpha and dominant, obviously did it for her in a major way. Who knew she liked being bossed around? she mused.

She swallowed hard, because she wasn’t sure what, exactly, he was referring to. “More?”

He curled a hand around the nape of her neck, guided her head toward him, and she went oh-so-willingly. She was so easy when it came to him. At first, she thought he was going to kiss her, but those sinful lips bypassed hers and settled against her ear instead.

“I want to eat you out and fuck you with my tongue,” her murmured huskily.

A strangled sound caught in her throat, cutting off her ability to respond, and she felt her face heat in shock—even as a secret thrill spiraled through her.

He pulled back, saw the bright pink flush on her cheeks, and smirked. “You’re the one who wanted it so dirty, Cupcake, so don’t go all shy on me now,” he said in a soft, mocking tone.

“I just didn’t expect you to say something so…”

“Filthy?” he offered up as another devilish grin curved his full lips. “Consider it all part of me defiling you. Now sit up on the desk and spread your legs, unless you’ve changed your mind?”

She knew he was giving her an out, but her body was already humming in anticipation. She moved off his lap and perched her bottom on the edge of his desk. As he’d ordered, she opened her legs wide, but she instinctively smoothed the hem of her skirt down and over her thighs. Which was ridiculous considering what he’d just done to her. But it had been a long time since a man had been that up close and personal with her girly parts, and neither was she used to flaunting herself.

His thick, dark lashes fell half-mast as he moved his leather chair much, much closer. “You look so fucking hot with your breasts

on display, yet so prim and proper with your hands in your lap and your skirt covering you so demurely.”

He placed his palms on her knees and widened her legs even more. “Pull it up to your waist so I can see your bare pussy.”

Another command she was compelled to obey. She gradually drew the material up her thighs like a slow strip tease, her stomach tumbling as his I’m going to eat you up gaze dropped to the sacred place she was about to reveal. Biting her bottom lip and summoning a heavy dose of confidence, she finally gathered the hem around her waist.

His breathing deepened, and he licked his lips greedily as he stared at her sex. “Fuck,” he muttered, and pushed her hands out of the way. “Lean back so you can watch me as I devour you.”

She braced her hands behind her so that her upper body was still angled in a way that gave her an unobstructed view. The chair he was sitting on was the perfect height, and she watched as he lowered his dark head and placed a hot, open-mouthed kiss on the inside of her thigh, his glittering eyes cast upward to lock with hers.

She shivered and moaned, and her sex pulsed with renewed desire as he lazily made his way upward, sucking, biting, and licking her skin until he arrived at his destination. He lifted her thighs so they draped over his shoulders and framed his strong jaw and face, and the erotic sight made her nearly come undone.

He slid his hands up over her hips and splayed them on her lower belly, then skimmed his thumbs downward to her pouty, glistening lips, so soft and wet from her first orgasm. He spread her open, exposing her clit to his heated gaze, and when he dipped his head and rubbed the light stubble on his jaw against that still-sensitive bud of flesh, she closed her eyes as wicked, forbidden desire nearly wrecked her. The stimulation was too much…yet not enough.

“Watch me,” he demanded, and as soon as her heavy-lidded gaze met his again, he dove right in and set out to obliterate everything she thought she knew about oral sex.

Nothing had prepared her for this devastation of her senses, for being consumed and dominated and ravaged by a man who had no qualms about getting down and dirty. And messy. His open mouth was hot and hard on her, and she watched as his tongue slipped through her folds before spearing into her passage, so indecent and depraved and she loved it.

A soft cry broke free before she could catch it, and he relentlessly licked her again—a long, firm lap of his tongue that had her hips lifting to meet each teasing stroke that brought her precariously close to orgasm but stopped short of giving her what she so desperately needed.

“Clay…” she begged, her body on fire.

Another slow, torturous, swirling lick. “Is there something you want?” he muttered darkly, his breath so incredibly hot on her wet flesh.

He was going to make her ask for it, and she did. “I need to come. Please.”

Done playing with her, he latched on to her clit in earnest. His lips and tongue massaged the pleasure point with just the right amount of pressure and friction, and she reached down and twisted impatient fingers through his hair.

More, more, more, she silently chanted. Or maybe she said the words out loud, because he was sucking at her now, eating at her, and her head fell back as she rode his mouth and waves of the most sublime ecstasy shook her to the core, pleasure that never seemed to end. Until finally, the last tremor rumbled through her.

The one arm that was holding her up collapsed, and she lay back on the desk, her legs falling over the sides. She was vaguely aware of Clay frantically searching the desk drawers.

“Is everything okay?” she asked, her body still tingling.

“No, I fucking need to get inside of you. Now.” Another drawer slammed shut, and he opened another and riffled through the contents. “Mason left some condoms in here when he used my office for one of his sordid affairs a few weeks ago, and I tossed them into one of these drawers.”

She laughed softly. “Your brother really is a manwhore, isn’t he?”

“You have no idea,” he muttered, then let out a triumphant yes when he found what he was looking for.

He tore the foil packet open with his teeth, and as she watched, he sheathed his huge, impressive cock that was raring to go again.

“I never would have thought that my brother’s exploits would end up benefiting me,” he said with a shake of his head.

Samantha had to admit, she was grateful to Mason, too, because she was dying to know what it felt like to be taken by this man who hadn’t just taken over her body, he’d also possessed her soul. Nothing…absolutely nothing would ever be the same after this tryst. That much she knew with certainty.

She expected them to have sex face-to-face, so she was taken off guard when he pulled her off the desktop, spun her around, and bent her over, so that her arms were once again braced on the surface of the desk. He crowded up against her from behind, and her heart thumped hard in her chest, as she didn’t know exactly what to expect.

He trailed his thumb down the center of her upturned ass, stopping just before he reached the damp juncture of her thighs. “Spread your legs,” he ordered gruffly.

Oh, God. She swallowed hard and did as she was told, bracing her feet apart and feeling a rush of cool air drift between her thighs. He’d warned her that he wasn’t a traditional kind of guy when it came to sex, and had promised to bend her over a table, spread her legs wide, and fuck her. She’d even told him that she wanted that.

But she’d never anticipated feeling so vulnerable right before it happened.

“Do you still want this?” he asked softly from behind her, as if he’d just been intimately inside her mind.

The fact that he’d sensed her unease, that he was willing to stop if she just said the word, made her feel safe and secure with him. She trusted him. With her body. Her pleasure. With more? Heaven knew she wanted to. She was opening herself up to him, letting him in to places that no other man had ever touched before, but he’d warned her away, and she’d do well to respect that request, too.

But that didn’t mean she’d call a halt. “Yes, I still want this.” She whispered the truth that she instinctively knew had the power to break her one day.

He exhaled a stream of breath, as if he’d been holding it while waiting for her answer. As if her wanting this meant more to him than just the hot sex he was offering.

Before she could over-think things even further, he placed his hands on her hips, slid his shaft between her legs, and pushed the head of his cock just a few inches inside her. She whimpered at the initial nudge. It wasn’t nearly enough, and she instinctively pushed her ass back against him, seeking the hot slide of thick flesh filling her up. She needed it. Craved it. Craved him.

She rocked against him again, and he groaned, his fingers biting into her skin as he held himself back, restraining himself when his control was the last thing she wanted. She longed for heated passion and an irrational loss of control. She needed to know what it was like to really be taken by a man. No, by Clay.

“Do it,” she urged him, then said the words she’d never spoken to another man before. “Fuck me, Clay. Now.”

“Christ,” he growled, the need vibrating through him palpable. “This is going to be a hard, fast ride, Cupcake.”

In the next instant, he shoved impossibly deep inside of her, wringing a shocked cry from her throat as her body attempted to adjust to the sudden and overwhelming invasion, along with the sensation of feeling so full. Fuller than she’d ever been before. He didn’t give her time to catch her breath before he starting pumping into her, hard and relentless, with an urgency that seemed to increase with each driving thrust. His strong fingers bit into her waist, pulling her back again and again to meet every one of his rough, pounding strokes.

The way he dominated her was raw and gritty. But then again, so was everything about Clay. And somehow, despite all their inherent differences, it made her want him more, not less.

She moaned, lust overtaking her as she arched her back and shamelessly lifted her hips higher. The different angle of her body caused his shaft to rub against a sensitive patch of skin inside her, and stars flashed behind her eyes. Oh, God. That was so incredibly breathtaking, so deliciously good, and the ache between her legs coiled tighter and tighter, her climax just out of reach.

With every piercing, grinding thrust, he demanded her surrender, and Lord help her, she knew she’d willingly give it to him, along with anything else he wanted. She was his.

“Oh, God, Clay,” she rasped, her orgasm gathering force inside her.

“Give it to me, Samantha. Now,” he demanded, his voice dark and intense as he slid a hand between her legs and rubbed her clit, then tugged and pinched the throbbing, needy flesh between two fingers. “I want to feel you come on my cock.”

His power and assertive demands were intoxicating, and she screamed as her release slammed through her in a rippling flood of sensation so potent and devastating it was like an out-of-body experience. Every muscle within her spasmed uncontrollably, gripping his cock in tight, clenching strokes as he continued to chase his own pleasure. Her climax was so raw and real, so stunning in its intensity, she didn’t know how to handle it.

He wasn’t far behind. A deep, possessive growl rumbled in his chest as he rammed into her frantically, pinning her so hard against the edge of the desk she suspected she’d have bruises tomorrow, and she didn’t care. He swore, his hips jerking violently against her ass as he buried himself one last time, so deep inside her she didn’t know where he ended and she began.

He left no part of her untouched. Physically, he owned her. Emotionally, he felt so right, so much a part of her. So inevitable. Like she’d been waiting her whole entire life to meet him, to be with him. She’d never had that kind of intimate and profound connection with a man before…and she feared she never would again.


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