Page 103 of Taint My Soul

“I’m getting closer.” I murmur, lips close to his. I press another kiss against his lips. His shoulder. His forehead. Bit by bit, every kiss I drop on his skin elicits soft, pleasurable moans that unfurl something inside of me.

“Do not pull out.” He whispers, and my gaze meets him. He gives me a nod of affirmation to make sure I understand what he wants. Then he takes my lips in a kiss that steals every drop of breath from my lungs and sets every part of me on fire. Sweat breaks from my temple, rolling over my face.

Saint lets out a grunt as his hand slips free around his dick. Ropes of cum shoot across his chest and his abs from the intensity of pumping his dick in his hands. I dart out my tongue and swipe over his release, tasting salt and skin all over him.

My pace goes faster, and I look at the space between us, watching with a smirk on my lips as my dick glides in and out of him. I inhale sharply, arching from the sensation as my body gives into the pleasure. I keep going, chasing the high at a pace perfect for us both, until my release hits me. His hand rests around my ass, and he holds me back from pulling out.

“It feels so fucking good.” He whispers and kisses me over and over. A soft, carefree giggle slips out of me.

“We’ll remain like this until morning?” I ask.

“Yes, that’s what I want.”

“Whatever you want, you get, baby.” I press another kiss against his skin. But even in the haze of pleasure and satisfaction, a quiet truth lingers at the back of my mind, beating like a drum. Maybe I can figure this out. That’s what I tell myself to keep the fear and uncertainty away.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

SAINT

“You’re still here, baby.”

“Hmm, hmm.” Mason hums beside me. My thumb rubs his skin in slow, intimate circles. We’ve exchanged positions after his dick slipped out of me, but I haven’t forgotten how this night started. Neither will I forget this experience. I feel so alive. Seen. Wanted. Not just because I relinquished control to him. But because I was present. I tore myself open, and I chose to stay through it all, and I loved every second of it.

Even in moments where the shadows from my past had tried to ruin our moment, I chose to think of something else.

I thought of Mason’s quiet, loving kisses on my skin. The feel of his dick inside him. The devotion in his eyes at every roll of his hips into me. Hell, I still feel him inside of me, and I fucking love it.

I love that I took Syn’s advice, and I hope that this means a lot to him as much as it means a lot to me.

Because I’ll always hold this moment close to my heart for the rest of my life. Not because of what we shared. But the things I felt. How truly unraveling surrender can be. And not just total surrender. But the softness and gentleness, and the immersiveness of it all.

It beats everything I have ever had. I didn’t hate myself for wanting it. I don’t think laying with a man is wrong. I came out satisfied. I came out feeling proud of who I am and what my body and heart needs.

Maybe I’m not sick after all.

“We could go see the house soon.”

“Are you trying to run away from cuddling with me?” He teases and looks over his shoulder and meets my gaze.

“You’re the only man I have ever cuddled with.”

“Oh, Saint, you’re obsessed with me.”

“I’m not denying that.” I chuckle and press a kiss on his shoulder. “I think I might need a drink.” I say.

“Get a glass for me.”

I hum and get off the bed. “Are you going to leave without kissing me?” He asks, and I lean in and press a kiss on his cheek, then his lips.

“You know, I wouldn’t.” I grin at him, picking up my shorts and my phone on my way out of the room.

I turn on my phone while I look through the wine collection on the shelf before I decide on what’s perfect for the occasion. My mother loved wine, and I started putting a collection together after she passed. It was a way to remember her. My phone buzzes with notifications, and I set down the wine bottle and two glasses. I pick up my phone and stare at the consistent incoming messages from my youngest brother, Cross.

I left something at your office.

I leave the wine shelf and stride toward the study, shutting the door behind me. There’s a brown envelope tucked neatly into the bottom drawer. I pull it out and look at the pictures inside. My pulse stutters when I see the two men in the picture. Mason and Neo. They were both in the alley in the first picture. In the second picture, Neo is striding down the sidewalk, and in the next picture, Mason is entering a ride. There are other pictures of Neo frequently visiting the same building.

Every muscle in my jaw locks so tightly. Pain impales my chest as I set the pictures down on the table. I retreat, leaning against the shelf of books behind me. A sharp, humorless laugh breaks from my lips, and my mind wrestles with the truth.