Saint And Sinners: The King Angel Child of New York

by Tiana Laveen

  *

  “Nah, stand right there.” Saint stood leisurely in the doorway as Xenia gave her treadmill what for. She hated being surrounded by so many boxes in her time to unwind, but it was simply unavoidable.

  “I…can’t stop…right now,” she panted, sweat running down her face, collecting in her cupid’s bow—and dare she admit it, the crack of her ass felt a tad swampy. She wanted to divert her lecher of a husband; surely, he didn’t want ‘none of this.’ She was filthy, had been working out for over forty-five minutes after a stressful day. He’d worked late into the night, and the children were fast asleep. This was ‘Xenia time.’ Time to relax and work her muscles, burn off some steam. Soon, her contract would be up and she’d be home free, moving to a place she knew, but that still seemed so foreign. She looked at him still standing there, his beige Polo shirt unbuttoned, exposing the soft layers of black hair and a thin platinum chain. The top of his gray slacks were undone, revealing the top of his DKNY boxer briefs.

  He looked taller than ever, and his well-defined jaw bone caught the light just right, forcing her to take in his physique. Forcing herself to turn away, she increased her speed and incline. She wanted the shit to hurt. She wanted her damn thighs to burn as if she’d been running from a pack of wild wolves and her arms to feel as if they’d been clenched and twisted like bread ties. All the shit had been locked away within herself, the stress of moving to such an all encompassing place. A place with buildings that looked down at you as if to say, ‘What the fuck are you lookin’ at?’ New York didn’t have a sunny disposition, even on a 90 degree day in the damn park. Saint was right, it did have a completely different vibe and moving there for good, with her children, and starting afresh, had become a raw-to-the-touch reality.

  “What are you thinking about?” He cocked his head to the side ever so slightly, revealing a delicate smile as his golden eyes briefly disappeared behind a blink that lasted a second too long.

  “Just…it doesn’t matter,” she waved him off, talking over the Ice Cube’s, “Tomorrow.”

  “Yes it does.” He moved from the doorframe of the exercise room and slowly moved towards her, his feet, clad only in dress socks, appearing to be gliding on ice. It was a freaky fucking thing…kinda sexy, too… Going to the boom box, he shut off the old, rotating CD player, hooked into Boss speakers. “Come on, now. Talk to me,” he said seriously as he leaned over her elaborate machine control system, his elbow caressing the side of her water bottle.

  “It will just be different, you know? I’ve never lived anywhere but here before. Don’t get me wrong, I trust you, Saint, it’s just…”—she shrugged and turned the damn treadmill off, realizing her work out was officially over—“…different is all.” She smiled at him, certain she was looking all kinds of pitiful.

  He nodded in understanding, while giving her space to lay out her thoughts and reservations.

  “Baby, this is a big change. I appreciate your willingness to do it and your trust in my judgment. You can talk to me, I want you to. And, despite how I feel, if you believe we shouldn’t go, tell me so we can talk about it.” He placed a hand along his chest, indenting the golden flesh ever so slightly with his well-manicured fingertips. “Not so I can convince you of my way of thinking, but so we can get through this, and you can feel comfortable and feel heard…understood.”

  “That’s just it.” She grabbed her fuchsia towel and dabbed her sweat-covered face. “I have nothing new to offer you, babe.” She cracked a grin. “I know what it is, I like being in control is all. Here, in California, I know what I’m doing. I know where to go, how to get everywhere. I know the areas. I am accustomed to it, the people, the culture. I breathe in the vibe, ya know?” She stepped off the machine and stood inches away from him, hoping he wasn’t offended by her funk.

  “In New York, it kind of feels like…you get swallowed.” Her eyes narrowed as she put emphasis on the word. “It’s like everything is aggressive and ready to lunge out and knock you off your feet…then walk away like nothing happened. I like New York, that’s what is so strange to me about me feelin’ like this.” She paused, feeling a trail of perspiration as it trickled over her lip. Before she could dab it away, the man lunged over to her, grabbed her face, and licked it clean.

  “What tha hell! Saint, that was nasty. I don’t know whether to be sickened or turned on. I stink. Move back, Jack.” She chuckled as she tried to maneuver around his body. He blocked her a time or two, then let her pass. A mirror covered one entire wall, allowing her to see how he looked at her in a way that made her pussy lips clench up like iron-clad fists.

  “How is that nasty?” he said, his tone throaty, low. He leaned on the treadmill with one arm and crossed his ankles, as if he had all the damn time in the world. “I eat your pussy. I jam my tongue down your mouth. Do you know how bacteria ridden the human mouth is, Xenia?”

  “No.” She smirked. “But I’m certain the good doctor will tell me.” She dabbed between her breasts. The fucking sweat was accumulating between them, making the girls feel like greased up pigs.

  “Nah, I don’t need to do that.” Shaking his head, he stood straight and began to approach her. She took a step back and he took two forward. They continued on until her back stood flush against the cold ass wall. Trapping her, he placed one arm beside her left ear, and the other beside the right. “So, you think New York will eat you up?” He winked at her and smirked. “It might. It likes to chew people up and spit them out though…so don’t worry, you won’t be digested,” he joked, causing her to look away and grin.

  Relief coursed over her clammy flesh from the cool wall, which offered reprieve, as her body grew hotter. Her reflection danced in his eyes, and she could smell the cognac on his breath, mixed in with the scent of his imported cherry cigars. She swallowed, trying to keep him at bay, but he simply wouldn’t have it.

  He traced his finger down the slick flesh of her chest as he looked at her breasts heaving out of her damn form-fitting bright red tank top. “Do you know how turned on some men become when they smell their mates sweat? When the pores cry out? I’ve told you so many times, Xenia, that we’re nothing but animals…we just happen to have a higher vibration is all.”

  “Yeah, you’ve said that.” She glared at him head on now, unblinking. She’d suddenly gotten her second wind, itching to hear what this sexy bastard had to say.

  “There’s nothing nasty about me wanting to sample you, nibble on you, eat you up.” He leaned down, yet kept her entrapped as he planted a slow, loud kiss on her shoulder. “Everything that is a part of you I accept, even your dirty sweat. Sweat is mostly water and impurities. Impurities make us human, desire makes us lovers.” He kissed her other shoulder, forcing her to glance up at the ceiling and slowly close her eyes as the motherfucker seduced the shit out of her.

  “When it comes to you, baby, when it comes to us, there is nothing off limits as long as we both agree to it. Now.” He placed his palms on her shoulder and looked into her eyes, as if she were a schoolgirl needing a pep talk. “I think you know what’s getting ready to happen…” He stepped back from her, his face impassive, letting his words sink in, and reached for his pants. Flinging them off his body, he then removed his shirt in the same fashion. His socks soon followed, and his underwear, too. The only thing left on his skin was that necklace, gleaming under the lights, and a self-assured smile.

  “Saint, I’m…” She smiled, tasting the saltiness of her skin as she ran her tongue across her upper lip. “Let me just…shower, okay? I promise to make it fast.” She moved from the wall, knowing damn well he was going to intervene, turn it into a production.

  “What did I just say to you, huh?”

  Before she knew it, he was tugging at her arm, and forcing her down on the shiny white floor. The cold hard floor hitting her, she struggled against his weight. Then, she got a whiff of his musky cologne, and her pussy had a fucking spasm.

  “No, no shower, baby,” he said into her ear, causing he
r damp hair to blow. His warm breath tickled her ear in an erotic way. She kept clumsily trying to struggle, knowing it was all an act. Yet before she could continue down her road of make-believe, the man flicked out his long tongue and wagged it lewdly at her, then slid it slowly up the side of her sweaty face, causing her to twist in horror and delight.

  Saint pulled and tugged at her tank top, yanking so hard she was certain the damn thing would split in half. It was only from Target, she wasn’t going to pitch a fit, but she loved that shirt all the same! She grimaced when he looked down at her, making a meal of her with his eyes.

  “I could smell you all the way down the fuckin’ hall…” he murmured before showering her neck with abrupt, hard kisses. “What you view as a turn off is a turn on to me… I like this, this animal you’ve become… Let me taste that salty pussy…” His eyes darkened in a millisecond, almost frightening her as he drifted lower and lower until he had her gray workout capris in his clutches. She shuddered when he pulled them so fast down her legs, the coolness of the room had her thighs covered in goose bumps. Now…she regretted not putting on any damn panties.

  Saint ran his big, warm hand over her pussy, the soft, well-trimmed hairs saturated with perspiration.

  “Uh, Saint, I think—”

  “If you don’t be quiet…I swear!” he threatened as he surveyed her honey pot. And then, he did the unthinkable. He closed his eyes and did a hard, deep dish inhale… His whole damn body shivered, then he gripped her hips with his palms and buried his nose smack dab between her thighs.

  “Oh God…” She trembled beneath him, pissed that she found the nasty scene so fucking erotic. She wanted to beg him to at least let her get a wet wipe, hell, even a tissue, something, anything! They were both so meticulous about their hygiene, the entire episode felt somewhat surreal…but of course, when it came to sex, Saint was a dirty, erotic mess. The filthier, the better, the more he was turned on—and dare she admit it, she was, too…

  …And he knew it.

  “Ohhh!” She closed her eyes and gulped when the tip of his tongue burrowed into her slit. He went to work, flicking the damn thing faster and faster until he made his way to her clit and encircled it with his warm mouth. He grasped her ass, squeezing it, slightly lifting her lower body off the damn floor. “Shit…” She swallowed harshly once again, trying desperately to relax. Opening one eye, and then another, she peered between her legs, watching the man eat her up as if he were ravenous.

  “Calm down…you don’t stink,” he paused to murmur with a smile, then went back to work. “Try to relax because I want to do some beautiful things to you, baby, and I don’t want you to miss a thing.” He moved his tongue in a slow, hard, circular motion along her smooth, wet bud, forcing it out of its safe hooded lair. Cocking his head to the side, he pushed the tip of his oral sword harder onto her nub.

  “…That’s it,” he encouraged, cherishing her physical reactions to his ridiculously divine skills. “Yeah…that clit is cummin’ to Daddy now…” Every time he spoke, warmth escaped his mouth, causing her to leak her honey just a bit more. He removed one hand from her ass, popped his finger in his mouth then inserted the hot, wet digit inside of her.

  “Mmmmm!” She reached for his wrist but couldn’t find procure it. In and out, in and out, he maneuvered his finger within her, first soft and slow, then a bit faster and harder. And then…he had her! She bucked uncontrollably against his lips, and he smacked and sucked and lightly nibbled, all while he finger fucked her frantically until she poured torrid libations. “Oh God! Shit!” She writhed about, not sure where the hell she was going. “Saint! I’m cumming again…shit!”

  He kept right on, not tearing himself away from her, and gave her another orgasm. She arched her back upward from the cold, hard floor while her eyes brimmed with moisture and her mouth opened to scream yet… no damn sound came out; she was fucking speechless. He slid one finger out of her, but kept the other soaked in her essence as he climbed up her body and looked down at her sternly. Like a mountain, he cast a shadow upon her form, blocking all light.

  Too. Much. Fucking. Man. To. Handle.

  His huge dick swung against her thigh. He just hovered above her like a big ass brick wall, looking down at her, as if he were midnight and it was time to say goodnight. Unable to resist, she rose and circled the damn thing with her hands, finding soft flesh wrapped around the hardness of the muscle beneath. The thick, winding veins felt satiny against her exploring thumb. The head bobbed helplessly, the slit slicked with clear moisture. Saint leisurely ran his hand through his hair, exposing his jet-black underarm hair for a moment. He lowered his arm and kept staring at her, thrusting his hips ever so gently as she continued to massage his manhood.

  “If you want to fuck me, then do it.” His raspy voice brimmed with demand, need.

  She narrowed her eyes as her pussy continued to pour on the damn floor.

  “I want to take you in like my own breaths…” She had no idea where the words came from, but the utterance came from her, and she meant every damn syllable. She didn’t miss the way his upper lip curved at her admission.

  “I like that,” he offered quietly. “I love your body, Xenia. But I always want to fuck your mind first…”

  “And you do.” Reaching between her own trembling thighs, she placed her fingers against her flooded pussy lips and gently rubbed the folds in a circular motion, playing with them, sighing at her own touch. “Uhh…” she moaned, caressing her own whispers as she revved herself up impossibly further. She felt his hungry gaze on her, watching, getting off on the sight. His breathing grew faster and louder and before long, he pinned her down with his heavy, heated body, abruptly pushed her teasing fingers aside, and entered her hard, causing them both to yell out. Sliding up and down against the cold, hard floor was driving her crazy as he thrust in and out of her, staring her in the damn eyes, daring her to say anything, do anything to stop him. Her back muscles ached and her shoulder blade grew sore as he made her body bend and grind and move to the percussion of his aggressive, heaving beat.

  “Uhhhh!” He grunted harshly, grabbing a fistful of her hair before sliding his tongue inside her mouth. As they roughly kissed, pain, pleasure, perspiration and pussy juice mixed, blended and formed an addictive cocktail. “Uhhhh! I…don’t want to just make you cum,” he said, his brows drawing together. He gave it to her, his toes pressing into the floor as he gained leverage and rocked his cock like a stick shift within her. “I want you to arrive!” His dick stretched her open a bit wider…the fucker growing bigger, thicker as he became more turned on.

  She ran her fingers up his back, now slick with sweat. Now, she had dried and he was saturated. What a change of events… He labored feverishly, working and popping his hips like a professional dancer. His mouth dropped slightly ajar as he scavenged for breath, running himself ragged with each hard thrust.

  “Shit! Uhhh!” He kept on, pinning her shoulders down, forcing her into another orgasm.

  “Owwwww!” She stretched her neck and strained, glaring up at the ceiling as she clawed at his back but he didn’t stop. He pressed down on her, flattening her breasts with his chest, to suck on the side of her neck, sending her into a nosedive of jubilation. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him further into her, wrapped her legs around his waist.

  “I like it!” she screamed. Saint was giving her sensations her body fought to feel, keep and never relinquish. The head of his dick bumped inside her, pushing, forging ahead, over and over as her walls clung to his charging shaft.

  “If you like it, I love it, baby.” His words carried a smile that she couldn’t see, though she knew it was stamped on his mesmeric face. His voice was becoming more rugged, ragged, letting her know he was holding back his climax, trying desperately to wear her ass out before he exploded. She forced his face towards her. The damn golden eyes had become the prettiest shade of purple she’d ever seen.

  “It’s…for you.” He smiled sadly. He’d mustered
the strength to create it, and she couldn’t imagine what it took for him to do such…but it brought tears to her eyes as her body continued to tremble with aftershocks of her repeated orgasms.

  “Saint…they are beeeaaaautiful!” She traced the shell of his ears with delicate fingertips, then froze when he sped up the pace. His gaze never left hers so he could let her see what she’d made him become. His gift to her, in the middle of it all, his heart flooded for her…she could see it, feel it, almost taste it.

  “Uhhhh….” He gasped as he gripped her hips securely against his thrusting groin, his short nails digging into her flesh. His mouth gaped open within an expression of pain and restraint. He held her so damn tight it almost hurt, but she knew that expression all too well—Saint was floating on a cloud of intense pleasure. “Uhhhh!” He jammed his cock in but stopped right there, frozen and flooding her with voluminous warmth. His body went into short convulsions as he shivered on top of her, filling her up, jerking inside of her love, sheathed in her cocoon, shooting the slick liquid into the vessel that she was. “Uhhh…” Then, his lips slowly came together as he was rendered silent, soon followed by the lids lowering over those mesmerizing amethyst eyes…slowly, so very slowly…

  “Mmmm.” He groaned roughly into her ear as he wrapped his hand gently around the front of her neck—a light but possessively divine act.

  After a few minutes had passed and the sweat from his body had drawn cold against her exposed flesh, she twisted beneath him just so, to steal a kiss. His lips curved in a smile and he reached upward, stroking her cheek.

  “Now,” he said, his voice full of fog. The man was sleepy and would soon be passed out. “Let’s talk about…” He yawned, smacked his lips a bit and continued. “Your concerns with movin’… I didn’t forget.”

  “You just got distracted.” She smirked, but of course, he couldn’t see her as he lay plopped on the floor, eyes jammed closed and partially wrapped around her body like a boa constrictor. Even in the clumsy way he looked draped around her, with a dash of S&M as he placed his hand back around her throat, he was still fucking beautiful from the top of his black, thick wavy hair, down to his long, golden feet with the diamond shaped birthmark.