My Fallen Saint

by J. Kenner

  “Pull up your shirt,” he demands, and I do, then tug my bra down to free my breast for him. I arch back, rocking against his fingers as he sucks on my breast, and strands of electricity shoot all the way through me, wilder and faster until it’s as if my body can’t hold so much pleasure all at once, and it explodes out of me, making my body shake , hot and cold and wild and sated.

  “Oh, God,” I say, shifting so that I can slide off his lap and collapse to my knees onto the carpeted floor.

  I rest my head on his thighs as his fingertip gently brushes skin. “You’re amazing,” he says.

  I lift my head and smile. “I think that’s my line.” I glance up at him, and then down at his very obvious erection. Then I reach for his fly. “I think I need to do something about that.”

  He stops me with a firm hand on mine, then nods to the light above the door. “Seatbelt,” he says. “We’re about to land.”

  “Oh. Sorry.”

  “I’m not,” he says as he helps me to my feet, then kisses me lightly. “Anticipation, remember? And believe me when I say that I’m anticipating very good things when we get where we’re going.”

  Our destination turns out to be the Wild Dunes Raceway, a private racetrack that Devlin frequents that is open to both novice and experienced drivers. It covers over fifteen hundred acres in the desert and boasts over three miles of roads. Most people bring RVs and camp for a few days, but for those who don’t want to bother or who fly in using the private landing strip, the track offers its own stable of small travel trailers, each complete with a tiny kitchen, bath, and one big bed.

  As if the orgasm Devlin gave me on the plane wasn’t enough, I am now officially in heaven. Even my regret that we don’t have Shelby here is allayed when Devlin tells me about the Lamborghini Aventador he keeps garaged at the property. That sweet machine boasts top speeds of two-hundred, and while it seems a shame, I promise Devlin that despite my wild child tendencies, I won’t crack the track’s one-seventy limit.

  “Are we racing or just driving?”

  “Driving,” he says. We’ve dropped our stuff off at our little trailer, and he tosses me the keys as we walk to the garage. “Specifically, you’re driving.”

  “Oh?” I lift my brows. “Like to watch, do you?”

  “You? Absolutely.”

  He’s already reserved the track, and it’s ours and ours alone for the next two hours, although it’s always open to spectators.

  I slide in behind the wheel, start the engine, then simply sit for a moment, feeling the power thrumming through and around us. “Don’t tell Shelby,” I tell him, “but I think I just had an orgasm.”

  He laughs out loud, then leans over and kisses me. “Drive,” he says. “The clock’s ticking.”

  Can’t argue with that, and I negotiate the way from the garage to the track. We’re in the middle of the desert, with mountains rising around us in the distance. It’s dry and dust funnels pop up on the distant horizon. The landscape is brutal, and yet here, in the middle of it, is the perfect playground. And somehow, Devlin knew that this is where I’d love to be. Not walking the Santa Monica Pier. Not shopping at South Coast Plaza. Not exploring Old Town in San Diego.

  No, he brought me to the absolute perfect place because, against all odds, he still knows me so well.

  I turn to him and say, “Baby, you are going to get so laid tonight.” And then, while he’s still laughing, I tear down the track, keeping it under a hundred until I’m sure I have the feel of the machine at my command.

  I spend a full glorious hour behind the wheel, then pull off and insist he drive. I want the pleasure of watching him command the car, taking curves, lightly braking, revving the engine until it’s going full-throttle.

  And that, I think, is how I want him to drive me tonight.

  Which is exactly what I tell him when we’re walking on shaky legs back to our secluded trailer.

  “Got you wet, did it?” he asks as we reach the steps that lead to the small door.

  “You know it did,” I say as he pulls me close, then slides his hand between my legs. My heart is pounding, my body flushed, and right now I don’t know if it’s because of the drive or the man. Honestly, I’m not sure it matters.

  He moves his hand up as he bends closer, finally cupping my breast as he whispers in my ear. “Come inside and let me take you on a different kind of ride.”

  “God, yes,” I murmur, even as I pull his mouth down to mine for one long, deep kiss before I break away and skip up the stairs and into the small space.

  The RV is tiny in comparison to our suite at The Phoenix, but it’s still perfect.

  The shower isn’t big enough for two people, but the bed makes up for that deficiency. It’s king size and runs along the back of the trailer, so that the far side, the head, and the foot all abut walls. It’s where I go now, tugging off my shirt and my jeans to make a trail for Devlin to follow.

  Not that he needs one. He’s right behind me, and when I’m in my bra and underwear, I collapse on the side of the bed, watching with eager anticipation as he tugs his jeans over his hips, leaving him clad only in black boxer briefs and looking like a calendar pin-up with his defined abs, lean torso, and very obvious erection.

  He starts to push off his briefs, but I shake my head. “Oh, no,” I say, extending my hand to urge him closer. “That’s my job.”

  The brow bisected by the scar rises with amusement. “Is it?”

  “Here. Now.”

  He takes my hand, surrendering when I tug him onto the bed, then straddle him. I hold him down by the shoulders, and he clasps his hands on my hips, then strokes my thighs. “Strong,” he says. “I like that.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Ever been rock climbing? I’m thinking it could be our next adventure,” he says when I shake my head. “I think you’d like it. Power. Danger. It hits all your hot buttons.”

  I take his hand and slide it inside my panties.

  “This is the only hot button you need to worry about right now,” I tell him as his fingertip teases my clit. “And right now, you’re the only thing I want to climb.”

  “All the way to the top, baby.”

  I slide my hand down, then stroke his shaft. “Then again, a few times more around the track wouldn’t be bad.” I tug his briefs down just enough for his cock to spring free. It’s thick and perfect, and I run my fingertip along the vein as he arches his head back and groans, then murmurs, “Oh, fuck yes,” as I bend over to taste the bit of pre-cum at the tip.

  I cup my hand around him. “I do like the feel of this gear shift,” I tease.

  “Hop on and I’ll take you for a ride.”

  “Oh, no,” I say. “I’m in the driver’s seat now.” I slide up his body, letting my belly stroke his cock as I move over him. Then I tease my way up his neck with kisses, relishing the way his beard tickles my skin.

  Slowly, I trace the tip of my tongue along his scar line, then lightly kiss his bisected brow before using my hands to steady me as I lift myself up and look at his face. His eyes are closed, but he opens them as I’m gazing down. The instant he does, I feel that whumph of shock. A lightning strike of sensual connection. My nipples tighten against my bra, and my panties are positively soaked.

  I brush my lips lightly over his, then use the tip of my tongue to trace that little hint of beard that extends from his lower lip to connect with the whiskers that cover his chin and jaw line. “I really do like this,” I say, as I graze my lips over his beard as I move closer to his ear. “I especially like how it feels on my skin. I want to feel it on my inner thighs when you fuck me with your tongue and fingers.”

  He makes a low, groaning noise, but I don’t give him a chance to say anything. Instead, I kiss him hard, exploring and tasting him, losing myself in the ferocity with which he kisses me back, then tugging on his lower lip before I work my way back down his body until I’ve reached his cock once again.

  I use my hand to stroke him at the same time as I t
ease the tip of my tongue along his glans, rewarded when he fists the bedspread on either side of him, the muscles in his abs tightening with obvious strain. I start to take him fully into my mouth, but he growls in protest, then cups me under my arms and pulls me up to him with such ferocity I gasp.

  “What—”

  But I don’t get the question out. Instead, he flips me over, effectively switching our positions as he’s now straddling me. I laugh and wriggle beneath him. “Well, now you’ve done it,” I say. “I was just about to take you on the ride of your life.”

  “Don’t worry, baby. I think tonight we’ll both make it to heaven.” He takes my wrists and stretches my arms above my head, using his knees against my hips to hold me in place as he deeply and thoroughly kisses me.

  I open to him, my mouth, my body. Adrenaline surges through me, and I’m hot with need, my skin prickly, and though his kisses are deep and hard, I want more of him. All of him.

  “More,” I beg. “Touch me, Devlin, please, fuck me. And make it rough. I want to feel you tomorrow. In every single muscle.”

  “Rough?” he repeats, lifting a brow. “What an interesting invitation. But what if I’d rather go slow? What if I want to tease you first, light and gentle, until you’re about to lose your mind?”

  I close my eyes, arching my head back as he brushes his lips down my throat.

  “I want to watch you lose yourself, El.”

  He whispers the words, but I hear them clearly. The words. My name—El.

  I know what it means, and I tremble, overwhelmed by emotion. And when I open my eyes I see the passion of his words reflected on his face.

  “Devlin—”

  His lips curve in the hint of a smile, but he hushes me with a fingertip to my lips. “I want you to explode,” he whispers as I melt under his words and touch. “And I want to know that I’m the one who took you there.”

  He shifts his hold on my arms, capturing both my wrists in one of his, then uses the other to trace the cup of the bra I’m still wearing. The touch is as light as a butterfly’s kiss, and I whimper as he teases one cup down, freeing my breast.

  “Oh, baby,” he says as he runs his thumb over my nipple. “You like this.”

  “Yes.” The word is barely breath. “Please.”

  “Please? Please what?” His fingers pinch my nipple and I suck in air as a hot wire of need shoots straight to my core. “Do you want my mouth here, sucking on this beautiful tit? Or do you want my fingers in your pussy?”

  I wiggle my hips, because I’m too far gone now, and can’t seem to wrangle even a word.

  “Or maybe you want me to fuck you so hard you scream my name and don’t even care if anyone in the other RVs hears you?” I whimper, but he doesn’t relent, just bends closer to my ear and says, “You want it rough? I could flip you over, pull down those panties and spank that beautiful ass.”

  “Yes,” I murmur. Damn me to hell, the answer is yes.

  “Or maybe I should blindfold you, then tie you to this bed, naked and wet and entirely at mine. To tease, to spank, to fuck.” His fingers dance lightly over my nipple. “To pleasure.”

  I tremble, lost in the intensity of his words. But there’s trepidation there, too. The thought of being bound … of being entirely at his mercy…

  I swallow, trying to read my own emotions. Trying to separate the craving from the hesitation. Trying to pinpoint the dark shadow that’s making me hesitate, but I can’t put words to it, and I turn my head away, not wanting him to see into my eyes. “Why?” I whisper, because I don’t know what else to ask.

  “Because I want to make you feel,” he says.

  “I do,” I tell him. “I feel you all through me. Why tie me up?”

  He releases my arms, then slides his body down so that his hands are cupping my breasts as he kisses me along the band of my panties. “Maybe it’s more than that,” he says, lifting his head between kisses. “Maybe I like the power. Maybe I want to make you feel good. To watch you surrender. To know I’m taking you someplace you’ve never been before.”

  My breath comes in rasps, his words filling my head like a storm.

  “You get off on danger? Maybe I like knowing that I can take you there, too. That I can bind you. Have you at my mercy. Own you while you’re completely vulnerable, and then make you come harder than you ever have before.”

  “I don’t—I’m not—”

  His fingertip traces my lower lip and my breath comes in shudders, making it impossible for me to hide anything from him.

  “Don’t pretend you aren’t intrigued. Don’t pretend that even the possibility of this doesn’t turn you on. I saw you, remember? Hell, I touched you.” His fingers trail down from my lip to my jaw, then slowly down my neck. “Just the other day, I fucked you in an alley. And the first night in the parking lot…”

  He trails off as that damnable finger once again grazes my nipple. “A stranger touched you, and it turned you on.”

  “So?”

  “It’s not the danger you need, Ellie. It’s the control. You were in charge before I came along in the parking lot. And how many other men have you pulled from bars? Have you fucked in alleys?”

  I turn my head, not wanting him to see the answer on my face.

  “You’re searching, baby. Trying so hard to steer that moment. To make it what you need. Not the danger. The control. You calling the shots. You choosing those men. You controlling the scene.”

  He strokes my hair, then waits for me to meet his eyes. My pulse is pounding, no longer from lust, but from the truth in his words. A truth I really don’t want to acknowledge.

  “But it’s never enough, is it? What you need—what you crave—is for someone else to be in control. You need to surrender, El. You need to go all the way to the edge and then fall over, trusting that you’ll come out okay on the other side.”

  I swallow, my breath shallow as I absorb his words, so terrifyingly true. Because he’s right. I do grab control. I cling so hard because I lost so much. But there’s a wall, and I’ve never let myself go past it.

  “You can trust me, El. For years, you’ve been holding so tight to control you’ve forgotten about pleasure. Forgotten how to truly feel. To surrender.” He looks me up and down, the penetrating gaze acting on me like a physical caress. “You know I’m right.”

  I lift my chin. “What makes you so sure?”

  “Because I see it in your face. It makes you scared. The thought of being tied down. Being immobile and blind and vulnerable. But it also turns you on. Tell me the truth, El,” he says, softly cupping my cheek. “Tell me that what I’ve been saying makes your nipples hard and your pussy throb. Tell me your skin feels tight, aching for release. Tell me you want it. The kind of danger where you’re no longer in control. The kind where you can fall, and there’s no way in hell to stop. Where you just have to trust that it will be okay.”

  “I—” I begin, then feel like an idiot when tears spring to my eyes. I want it—oh, dear God, I want it. But I can’t find the words.

  “I can’t,” I manage to say. “I’m sorry, but I can’t go there.”

  I swallow the fear that sits like a lump in my throat. Fear that I’ve hurt him. Fear that he’s going to walk away, irritated that I’ve put on the brakes.

  With Alex, I know he’d be okay with it. But Devlin? I’m still learning who Devlin Saint is, and I don’t yet understand his rough edges and dark shadows. He’s dangerous, just like he said. And, damn him, it’s because of that danger that I’m already halfway to the best orgasm of my life. But to take it further? To trust him like that?

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper again. “I can’t.”

  I don’t realize that the tears have escaped until he’s gently wiping my cheek with his thumb. “Oh, El, baby, it’s okay. I want to take you to your limit—I do. So much that just thinking about it makes me harder than I’ve ever been. But I’ll only take you over if you want it, too.”

  “You don’t mind?”

 
“Oh, baby. Hell, no. Besides,” he adds with a devious grin, “how many times have I told you how I feel about anticipation?”

  More tears slip from my eyes, but I’m smiling. Not only because he’s just told me there will be a next time, but because he’s still calling me El, even after I denied him.

  “Devlin, please.” I don’t have to say another word. He flashes a devilish grin at me, then slowly—so wickedly slowly—kisses his way down my body until he reaches my panties. He eases them down, but I’m too eager, and kick to move the process along.

  He laughs, then holds my legs steady as he settles between them again. He blows gently on my clit, which feels incredible, then he teases me with his tongue before very deliberately rubbing his beard along my inner thigh. I laugh and squirm. Not only from the tickling sensation, but because he’s so obviously teasing me with exactly what I’d said I wanted.

  My laughter soon turns to gasps, though, as Devlin turns his considerable skills to my clit, his fingers thrusting inside me as his mouth works an absolutely perfect magic on me until I’m so close that I’m squirming and arching and trying to reach the stars.

  I remember the first time we did this. He’d told me to tug at my nipples, and I do that now, and oh, yes, oh, God, yes, that’s the final key to this wonderful puzzle of pleasure. My whole body tightens, then breaks apart, and as it does, I reach down, twining my fingers in his hair and holding him in place as I buck against him, harder and faster until the storm finally, thankfully ebbs.

  When reason returns, I pull him up, then kiss him, wanting more still. Wanting a kiss that feels like fucking. Wanting him to explode inside me. “Now,” I whisper. “Please, please, tell me you brought a condom.”

  “Your wish…” he says, then leaves the bed long enough to take care of sheathing himself.

  “Hurry,” I beg, though that turns out to be an unnecessary request. He’s hard and ready and he pushes my knees up as he slides into me, then presses his hands into the mattress on either side of my head, his eyes on mine as he thrusts deep inside of me, hitting that sensitive spot deep, deep inside so that I build again with him.