Dirty Sexy Saint (Dirty Sexy #1)(33)




But that didn’t mean she’d call a halt. “Yes, I still want this.” She whispered the truth that she instinctively knew had the power to break her one day.

He exhaled a stream of breath, as if he’d been holding it while waiting for her answer. As if her wanting this meant more to him than just the hot sex he was offering.

Before she could over-think things even further, he placed his hands on her hips, slid his shaft between her legs, and pushed the head of his cock just a few inches inside her. She whimpered at the initial nudge. It wasn’t nearly enough, and she instinctively pushed her ass back against him, seeking the hot slide of thick flesh filling her up. She needed it. Craved it. Craved him.

She rocked against him again, and he groaned, his fingers biting into her skin as he held himself back, restraining himself when his control was the last thing she wanted. She longed for heated passion and an irrational loss of control. She needed to know what it was like to really be taken by a man. No, by Clay.

“Do it,” she urged him, then said the words she’d never spoken to another man before. “Fuck me, Clay. Now.”

“Christ,” he growled, the need vibrating through him palpable. “This is going to be a hard, fast ride, Cupcake.”

In the next instant, he shoved impossibly deep inside of her, wringing a shocked cry from her throat as her body attempted to adjust to the sudden and overwhelming invasion, along with the sensation of feeling so full. Fuller than she’d ever been before. He didn’t give her time to catch her breath before he starting pumping into her, hard and relentless, with an urgency that seemed to increase with each driving thrust. His strong fingers bit into her waist, pulling her back again and again to meet every one of his rough, pounding strokes.

The way he dominated her was raw and gritty. But then again, so was everything about Clay. And somehow, despite all their inherent differences, it made her want him more, not less.

She moaned, lust overtaking her as she arched her back and shamelessly lifted her hips higher. The different angle of her body caused his shaft to rub against a sensitive patch of skin inside her, and stars flashed behind her eyes. Oh, God. That was so incredibly breathtaking, so deliciously good, and the ache between her legs coiled tighter and tighter, her climax just out of reach.

With every piercing, grinding thrust, he demanded her surrender, and Lord help her, she knew she’d willingly give it to him, along with anything else he wanted. She was his.

“Oh, God, Clay,” she rasped, her orgasm gathering force inside her.

“Give it to me, Samantha. Now,” he demanded, his voice dark and intense as he slid a hand between her legs and rubbed her clit, then tugged and pinched the throbbing, needy flesh between two fingers. “I want to feel you come on my cock.”

His power and assertive demands were intoxicating, and she screamed as her release slammed through her in a rippling flood of sensation so potent and devastating it was like an out-of-body experience. Every muscle within her spasmed uncontrollably, gripping his cock in tight, clenching strokes as he continued to chase his own pleasure. Her climax was so raw and real, so stunning in its intensity, she didn’t know how to handle it.

He wasn’t far behind. A deep, possessive growl rumbled in his chest as he rammed into her frantically, pinning her so hard against the edge of the desk she suspected she’d have bruises tomorrow, and she didn’t care. He swore, his hips jerking violently against her ass as he buried himself one last time, so deep inside her she didn’t know where he ended and she began.

He left no part of her untouched. Physically, he owned her. Emotionally, he felt so right, so much a part of her. So inevitable. Like she’d been waiting her whole entire life to meet him, to be with him. She’d never had that kind of intimate and profound connection with a man before…and she feared she never would again.





Chapter Nine




THURSDAY NIGHT WAS buy-one-get-one-free night for shots at Kincaid’s, which always drew the younger crowd. A lot of the customers who came in on Monday for ladies’ night returned to take advantage of yet another drink special and troll for a midweek hookup—and that included Mason, who was currently out on the dance floor getting down and dirty with the girl he’d been flirting with for the past hour.

Clay shook his head, knowing his brother would be in the woman’s pants before the night was over, and as long as Mason didn’t utilize the bathroom to screw his latest conquest, Clay would look the other way and not kick him out of the bar. But if Mason dared to use Clay’s office, he’d castrate his sibling, because he didn’t want anything tainting the memories of everything he’d done to Samantha in that room, and all the erotic ways he’d made use of his desk and made her his. Even if it had just been for that brief bit of time together.


Remembering how well Samantha had responded to him, how tight and hot she’d been around his cock, had his gaze searching for the woman who’d blown his mind, and his dick, just a few hours ago. Being with her had been sexy and dirty and so incredibly addicting he’d be a Goddamn liar if he said he wouldn’t touch her again. Not now that he knew what her * tasted like and what her mouth felt like wrapped around his shaft. She’d left him reeling from the most earth-shattering encounter he’d ever had, and for the first time ever, he couldn’t stop thinking about a woman long after sex was over.

Carly Phillips, Erik's Books