Page 143 of Taint My Soul

When we get to the top of the penthouse, my chest feels even lighter when his gleaming eyes meet mine. We sit in the living room together. He unzips the guitar from the gig bag. His hand fastens around the musical instrument, and he runs his fingers over the strings, producing an uneven melody. “I’m a bit rusty.” He clears his throat and taps his feet on the floor.

“I don’t mind. We have all the time in the world.”

Anticipation buzzes through his veins as his fingers hover over the strings. The next chord comes out uneven. He adjusts his grip and tries again. Familiar notes slowly begin to emerge, and the corner of his lip quirks up into a fulfilled smile. He stops suddenly and sets the guitar aside. “I would very much like to kiss you right now, Elio.”

“I’m not stopping you.”

He closes the gap between us effortlessly. Lips crashing against mine, my pulse dances beneath my skin as I swing my hands around his shoulder and pull him closer. Butterflies erupting in my stomach is an understatement. An entire flock takes flight inside me. My insides are a riot of restless excitement, impossible to ignore. Saint’s mouth parts, and I slide my tongue into him. Tasting. Lips and teeth crashing so intensely, it’s dizzying. When he breaks the kiss, his hand lifts to my flushed cheek. He caresses gently with the back of his palm, and a smile cracks on his lips.

“You have given me everything and more, baby. My heart, my soul, every fucking thing that’s mine is yours. I’m forever grateful.”

“You have given me even more.” I place my head against his and breathe in his scent, kissing him one more time.

He lifts me into his arms and takes me up to the bedroom. My back rests on the soft sheets of the bed while he towers over me. “Get naked, baby. Let me show my devotion.” He leans closer, voice deepening into a low timbre. I look at him under hooded eyes, pleasure rising within me until it settles against my skin. Warm and aching. My heart tries to claw its way out of my chest. My trembling hands find the hem of my shirt and pull it over my head. He kneels between my thighs and pulls down my pants. He takes off his clothes so that he’s naked with me as well. “Sit.” He says.

I swallow hard and sit up. He takes my hand and places it on his chest. His heart hums against his ribcage in quiet anticipation. “Yours.”

He moves my hand all over his corded muscles, over the black-inked tattoos.

“All of me, yours.”

He takes my hand down to his dick. “My dick, yours.”

“Mine.” I agree, my voice steady and sharp.

“Lie back, baby.”

I lay before him, exposed. Every nerve in my body hums with life. His eyes move over my skin slowly, not with hunger, but with quiet appreciation, as though he’s trying to commit every detail to memory. And the way he looks at me doesn’t change even when his eyes take in the point where the bandage covers my scars.

“My Elio.” His voice is hoarse. He leans close and presses a kiss on my forehead. “Mine.” He growls. He moves down to my lips and kisses me again. “Mine.” His eyes lift to me, holding steady. An aching breath spills out of my lungs, setting every part of me on fire. I grip the white sheets of the bed and arch into him. He smirks and presses another kiss on my chest.

“Mine.”

His lips rest on my belly.

Kiss. Kiss. Kiss.

“Mine.”

A gasp leaves my lips as tears well in my eyes. Something about the way he touches and praises my body unravels me bit by bit.

His lips drop on my dick. “Mine, Elio, mine.”

“Saint…” His name gurgles out of my throat, laced with indescribable pleasure. “Darling.”

“I love it when you call me that.” His eyes snap to mine, and his grin widens. He chuckles. A low thrum of sound echoes off his solid chest. “I’m yours, baby. Yours.” He presses another kiss on my belly. “Can you lie on your stomach?” He whispers against my skin.

“No, it will hurt.” He shakes his head.

“Um…” his expression contorts as he ponders. He’s not giving up on whatever he wants to do yet. “Come on.” He gets off the bed and stands on his feet, looking around the room. “I want to kiss your spine.”

“Kiss my spine?” My brow lifts as I get on my feet.

“Yeah. Get your hands on the mirror. Carefully.”

I stand in front of the mirror and take a look at myself. Saint stands behind me. His hands rest around my shoulders as he leans closer and presses a kiss on my back.

A shiver runs through my body, and my lips part in a gasp.