There Are No Saints (Sinners Duet #1)(68)

The pleasure draws back, but only briefly. Before the first orgasm is done, I can feel the next one building. There’s no break in between. No refractory period.

The vibrations run through every nerve of my body. Every part of me is becoming as acutely sensitive as my clit.

Understanding this, Cole presses the vibrator against me with one hand, and reaches up with the other to massage my breast.

“Oh my . . . oh my . . . goddddddd . . .” I groan.

My whole body is melting.

Cole’s touch is unlike anyone else.

His hands are living creatures with a mind of their own. His fingers undulate on my flesh, each point of contact exquisitely soft. He’s not squeezing like most men, not groping—he’s exploring. It feels like he has a thousand fingers, a thousand hands. It feels like he’s touching me everywhere at once.

He moves to my other breast, keeping the sensation equal, keeping it spread across my body. He seems to understand that I don’t like things uneven, I hate unfinished loops.

His fingers move across my flesh, separate but coordinated, falling on me like rain.

The vibration pulses through me, filling me with energy, filling me with sensation.

Cole tugs gently on my nipple, careful of the piercing. He’s giving me the intensity I need, taking me to the point of pain but never beyond.

My breasts are as sensitive as my pussy. Maybe even more. The vibrations seem to concentrate in my chest, beneath his hand. My nipple feels as engorged as my clit, as capable of giving pleasure. The orgasm beings in my chest, not between my legs. He’s tugging on my nipple in slow, rhythmic strokes, as if he’s milking it, and it’s making me cum, helplessly, irresistibly, stronger than before.

He closes his mouth around my other nipple, suckling one, tugging on the other. There’s no table beneath me anymore. I’m plunged into pure, liquid pleasure.

“Ohhhh Cole . . .”

I don’t know if I’m moaning aloud or only in my head. I’m begging him not to stop.

Cole keeps the vibrator pressed against me while shifting his body, coming around the table up toward my head. With his spare hand, he unzips his trousers, freeing his cock.

It falls out in front of my face, heavy and brutal, pale as marble and thick with veins. The head already leaking. I look at that butter-soft skin, that clear drop of fluid gleaming on the tip, and my mouth waters. My lips and tongue are swollen, aching to be touched. Desperate to suck on something.

Without him asking, without him moving toward my mouth, I tilt up my chin, lips parting, tongue reaching eagerly for a taste.

I close my mouth around the head of his cock. The burst of liquid salt is the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted. It floods my mouth, that rich and complex mix of his skin, his pheromones, his sweat, and his cum.

It was made for me. It’s exactly what I like.

I suck gently at first, swirling his cock around in my mouth, running my tongue all around the head. Trapped inside his trousers, his cock could only fill so much. Now that it’s free, it straightens out, growing so hard that it feels as if the burning flesh can’t possibly be contained within that delicate silky skin.

I can feel his blood pulsing through the bulging veins beneath my tongue. Every time I take him deeper into my throat, I’m rewarded with another pulse of cum.

He begins to thrust into my mouth, in time with the rolling strokes of the vibrator. Each thrust of his cock is accompanied by a deep press of the vibrator right where I need it. The harder he presses, the harder it thrums, sending shocks through every nerve, in an endless loop from brain to groin.

Anywhere he touches me, I’m instantly sensitized. He grips the base of his cock, stroking it into my mouth. His fingers brushing against my lips feel unspeakably erotic. I open my mouth wider so his hand can press against my mouth, so his cock can delve deeper into my throat.

I want to be fucked deep in my mouth just like I want his cock deep in my pussy. Nothing else will satisfy.

He pumps into my throat, the heavy head of his cock hitting all the way back, to a sensitive patch of flesh that’s never been touched before. Maybe this should make me gag, maybe it would have before. But in this moment, it feels like I have a g-spot in my throat. Like the head of his cock rammed down there is the only thing that can make me cum.

The third orgasms starts and I’m moaning around his cock, I’m cumming with it deep in my throat, my desperate groans creating their own vibration against the head.

Now it’s Cole who can’t stay quiet, Cole who begins to shake and shudder as cum flows out of him, thick and rich, the most satisfying thing I’ve ever swallowed.

He fucks my mouth hard. I look up at him, realizing that at some point he took off his shirt. Every muscle stands out on his chest, his arms, the flat granite expense of his stomach. I look up at that perfectly carved figure and that face that wears no mask—that shows the full extent of his greed, his hunger, and his lust for me.

I look up at him and I think, He’s not human. He’s so much more . . .

I drink his cum like a gift.

I’m so dazed that I hardly notice when he pulls away. I only feel the absence of his taste and scent, his warm cock against my tongue. I want it back, intensely.

I whimper like a baby, begging him for more.

“Patience,” Cole says.

He’s loosening the restraints that pin me to the table. I think he’s going to lift me up and carry me somewhere, maybe to a bed in some hidden room. Instead, he rolls me over onto my stomach and tightens the chains once more, so I’m tied facedown instead.