Page 135 of Himbo Hitman
“I like the thought of you making me all messy.”
St. Clare groans and rolls his hips, steely hard cock grinding against mine. “Next time.”
“Promise?”
He pulls back, looking me dead in the eye, and the way that bright blue pierces me is addictive. “In case you haven’t gotten the message, I … I care about you. I keep wanting more. I don’t know what that means yet, but all I know is that something feels intrinsically off without you in my life. I’m not done here. I want more, for however long you want this to keep going.”
Hearing St. Clare break this down and give voice to what I’ve been feeling makes my chest balloon with happiness. “Aww … pookie.”
He blinks. Frowns. “No.”
“But that was so sweet.”
“We’re not pet naming. This is sex, Perry.”
There’s no way I’m interested in him pulling back now. I flip us, rolling on top of him so this time I’m the one pressing him into the mattress, all the long lines of his body fitting perfectly against mine. “This is more than sex, and you know it. I’ve done the just sex thing. I’ve been with people who aren’t interested in anything more than what I can give them physically, but I’m so much more than that. I know I can be. Let me look after you and be sweet to you and maybe fall for you a little bit. I want the sex and the emotions and to look at you and know that I have my own person who’ssafe and home and all mine. I think you could be that person.”
There’s a war going on behind his eyes that takes a minute to settle. “You’re putting a lot of faith in someone who’s never had a real relationship.”
I touch his ear and then my shoulder again, and slowly, like I knew it would, his lips fight the inevitable smile.
“We match,” he says.
“We do.”
He swallows thickly. “Yeah. I think I could be that person too.”
My heart hums happily, and I push up onto my knees, strip off my shirt, then reach down and do the same to him. He’s so damn sexy. Mostly smooth with a scattering of the lightest blond hair. Pecs that make me desperate to touch. Little pink nipples and then those grooves of his abs that have me concerned I’ve contracted rabies with how much I’m foaming at the mouth for them.
“Oh shit …” I rasp, flooded with the kind of heady want that’s impossible to control. Each of my brain cells blinks out of commission as my gaze dips to where he’s straining at his zipper.
My hands are shaking as I pop the button and drag open the fly. His cock springs free, pale with dark, straining veins and a deep red tip, and before St. Clare can say anything, I give in to the urge to lean forward and wrap my lips around him.
The girth stretches out my jaw as I sink down onto him, tongue flicking along the underside as I taste the lusty need he has for me. Sucking cock is so new and different, and I never want to stop.
His fingers grip my hair tight. “That’s enough.”
I reluctantly pull off and make sure my expression shows my exact thoughts. “But I want more.”
“Well, you have the choice. I can come in your mouth or your ass. I can’t do both.”
“Not with that attitude,” I mutter but give in.
I stand off the bed and strip out of my pants while St. Clare pushes his down far enough to kick off. His long, muscular legs are calling for me, but before I can disappear back between them, St. Clare rolls onto his side and pats the bed beside himself.
“Lie face down. I need to get you ready for me.”
I throw myself onto the bed, and he laughs at my eagerness, but I don’t care. The promise of his fingers in me is enough, let alone that I’m going to take more. “Hurry up.”
“I’ll take all the time I need.”
Asshole. I grip the bedding in my fists, trying to stop from saying that word out loud. I need him on side here because I’m fully prepared to be fucked good and hard before we both crash out for the day.
When St. Clare climbs out of bed, I focus on breathing steadily through my nose, not wanting to complain or whine or start fucking begging or something. Patience has never been my strong suit, and after rutting against the bed a couple of times, I’m ready to give in.
Then he climbs back up behind me, and before I can tell him to hurry up again, something cold and wet slides down my crease.
I immediately tense, and it’s only when his fingers follow the lube that I’m able to relax again.
