Imperfect Love_Saint Sex Read online

  I almost forgot what I was going to do, but then she shuddered and moaned.

  Oh, yes…

  I trailed kisses down her neck, over her collar bone, and then further down, licking and sucking as I moved down to her breasts.

  Beautiful round, wondrously full, and softer than anything I’d ever touched.

  And those swollen, pretty pink nipples, how they turned to hard little nubs as I teased and tongued and nipped at them with my teeth.

  Lucy moaned my name.

  It was the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard.

  Ever…

  I knew right there and then I would spend the rest of my life trying to get her to say my name, just like that, again and again.

  I fell to my knees and kissed my way down the flesh of her stomach, lapping up the water that cascaded down her body.

  And then I leaned in and kissed her right between the legs.

  She gasped.

  I pressed my hands between her knees and pushed up, opening her to me and bringing up my arms until I was cradling her smooth, soft bottom in my palms.

  Her hands grabbed hold of my shoulders as I pressed another kiss to her now open sex.

  Another gasp, and a nervous, “Dante?”

  I could get used to this.

  I opened my mouth and pressed another kiss in the same spot, but this time I darted my tongue out and traced the outer ridges of her pussy.

  She tasted so sweet, so fresh and aroused.

  I was so hard I wouldn’t be surprised if I came without even touching myself.

  I looked up and saw Lucy bite that lip of hers again.

  Oh, yeah…

  It.

  Was.

  On.

  I licked up into her, first shallowly, then deeper, laving her now quivering pussy with lash after lash of my hungry tongue.

  I was loving the little moans she was making, the gasps, the halting breaths.

  Yes, baby… come for me.

  I wanted to taste her when she orgasmed. I wanted to feel her body contract, her pussy spasm. I wanted her to come with my face planted in her crotch.

  (Okay, I’m a twisted, dirty man. But damn if this wasn’t the hottest damn moment of my life.)

  Lucy’s hands were in my wet hair, and her fingers grasped at me harder and harder as she got closer to her climax.

  And then, as if the pure joy I’d been feeling this entire time had just gone off inside her like a bomb, she cried out in no language I’d ever heard of, throwing her head back and clamping her pussy lips on my tongue as I teased and tasted and ravished her, lapping up every sweet drop of her climax, of her luscious juices.

  Her body went limp against the wall, and I felt her start to teeter in my hands.

  I leaned back and looked up her.

  Her eyes were closed, and her mouth was a very relaxed smile.

  And then she fell over.

  I used my hands and every other part of me to keep her from doing a header onto the tiled shower floor.

  A cold feeling ran down my spine and pooled in my stomach.

  “Lucy?” I had her cradled in my arms, warm and limp and naked. “Lucy… what’s wrong?”

  Her head lolled to the side and she giggled.

  Giggled…

  “That… was…” she sighed, her warm breath fluttering against my bare chest. “Awesome…”

  She dissolved into sleepy little giggles and I had to smile.

  That… was… awesome...

  I couldn’t stop thinking, looking down at her, that that was just the beginning.

  Lucy rubbed her satin soft cheek against my pec, gave my nipple a quick little nibble, and then promptly passed out.

  Chapter 19

  Satin Sheets

  Lucy

  My first thought, waking up, was that I was in the most comfortable bed EVER.

  The sheets were pretty good too—satin, I think. And the mattress was definitely a full feather deal.

  And it all smelled too damn good.

  My favorite smell…

  I snuggled up to the firm, even smoother than satin, total body pillow.

  The pillow was covered in that smell I liked so much.

  What was that scent?

  My favorite smell?

  And then the pillow breathed, and strong muscular arms pulled me closer.

  My eyes snapped open and I looked around me.

  The room was dark and utterly unfamiliar.

  But I recognized the view out the uncovered floor to ceiling windows.

  I was in a bedroom on the west side of Saint James Tower.

  Just higher up than I’d ever been.

  Oh, and I was completely naked under the satin sheet.

  I turned and found a sleeping, also completely naked Dante, lying right beside me.

  My jaw dropped.

  My mind twirled like an out of control bottle rocket.

  What… the… hell???

  And then the last couple of days caught up with me.

  That exposé.

  Dante following me to mom’s.

  Dante kissing me.

  Me kissing Dante.

  And then me seducing him in his private shower—my own personal fantasy/obsession come true.

  And me telling him he was “abnormally large.”

  And then he’d guessed I was a virgin…

  And then he…

  Oh…

  Dante Saint James (My Mr. Saint Sex) performed oral sex on me.

  And that’s where things got fuzzy.

  I remember him holding me suspended against the cool tiles of the shower wall…

  I remember how my body was on fire with every lick, nibble and…

  Oh my…

  My face was getting hot just thinking about it.

  And then…

  And then I’m here, in (probably) Dante’s bedroom, up in his penthouse.

  And…

  And there was Dante, all asleep and naked and exposed…

  And mine.

  Mine…

  I really liked how that sounded in my mind.

  My Dante.

  And my Dante was just lying there, unprotected and beautifully, gloriously naked.

  Or at least, I thought he was naked.

  I pulled back the part of the sheet covering Dante’s lower half.

  Yep… completely and totally naked.

  And even soft, that thing between his legs was…

  Huge.

  But this time I didn’t feel nervous, or ready to giggle.

  What I felt, gazing down at this wondrous, sex-sex-sexy man, was a building heat in my core, my stomach, and lower, in my girly parts.

  Girly parts?

  Oh, come on!

  I’m a freaking romance writer!

  If I can write the words… by god I could at least think them.

  My… my pussy was getting hot… and wet… and I so wanted to use Dante to his utmost potential.

  And what does that last part even mean?

  I stroked a finger over the curve of that now semi-hard appendage.

  It pulsed and grew about a half an inch.

  Okay… I licked my lips. That was interesting.

  I stroked my finger over that curving, warm part of him again, and watched as it pulsed again, this time growing not only another half inch, but filling, thickening, and his large, velvety balls—I was checking out Dante’s balls!—did a little pull up. Kind of looked like a butterfly flapping its wings once.

  He stirred, his head lolling over to the other side, and he ran a hand over his chest.

  My god and little fishes… this man was…

  Beautiful…

  The most beautiful, amazing man I’d ever known.

  I had another flashback to when he’d had me pinned to the wall of the shower.

  How his tongue had pulled me apart and slithered, warm and wet, right up into me, lashing at my…

  At my clit, my feminine folds—he’d even nipped me with his
teeth.

  And now, I was going to return the favor.

  Ever so gently I slid my fingers around the girth of him, grasping the still enlarging, fleshy tube of him—he was big enough that part of him was already bending downward, the head of his cock rolling over the flesh of his hipbone.

  Okay… now or never.

  I leaned in, inhaled—which, the richer scent of him down there (oh, for crying out loud! The scent of his arousal… of his hardening cock) made my mouth water.

  I experimentally licked the tip of his cock’s head.

  Oh…

  It tasted… pretty good.

  So I leaned in and licked it again, this time running my tongue along the length of him.

  His back arched, and his hips pushed back into the mattress.

  And he groaned.

  I loved that groan.

  It wasn’t the groan I usually associated with pain. This was a groan that was pure satisfaction.

  I licked slowly, up and down his length, twirling my tongue over the still growing head of his penis.

  My chest felt as if a bird was beating its wings, trying to get out.

  I blinked at the perfect design and beauty of the hard, though still spongy sheath of flesh before me.

  I was never going to get that thing in my mouth.

  Well, at least not today.

  But there was something I wanted to try out while I had him all naked and hard.

  I crawled up on top of him, straddling him with either leg on each side of his hips, my palms pressing down on his bulging, hard chest.

  He was so warm.

  He took a deep, contented breath.

  I had a little thrill that just my touch could bring about such a reaction.

  Slowly, so very slowly, I pressed my sex down upon him, rubbing my slick, hot folds over the soft flesh and hard sinew of Dante’s prick.

  Oh…

  That was…

  Fabulousity…

  I know, not a word, but I was suffering (most enjoyably) from a chemical reaction when my oonie came into contact with his penis.

  Oonie/Penis fusion.

  I moved my hips and slid myself down the length of him, and then back up.

  That’s when Dante’s strong hands took hold of my hips.

  I looked down and there was Dante, my Mr. Saint Sex, staring up at me through half lidded eyes, a satisfied, very male grin stretching his thick, oh so kissable lips.

  “Trying to take advantage of a sleeping man?”

  “Only in the literal way.” I slid myself back down his cock, making him take in a sudden, gasping breath.

  I made Dante gasp…

  Not to be outdone, Dante pushed his hips up and guided his hard cock along my wet, hungry opening.

  Making me gasp.

  Sexy bastard…

  He leaned up and nestled his handsome mug into my bare breasts, breathing me in, kissing my sensitive flesh, and then sucking my left nipple into his mouth.

  Oh god…

  I ground my pussy against him, my hands tangled in his now messy hair.

  Now! howled my inner virgin. You lose me now!

  I blinked. Did I just hear—

  Yes, you overly analytical romantic shut-in… it’s time… it’s past time!

  Not so gently I pulled Dante’s face from my cleavage, and pulled him back until his half-lidded eyes stared up at me, adorably lost.

  And adorably mine…

  “It’s time.” I leaned in and kissed those full, soft lips.

  Nothing tastes as good as he does. Not white macadamia nut cookies. Not cookie dough ice cream. Not even a caramel mocha latte with extra foam. Nothing.

  “Lucy?” Dante murmured.

  Words whispered through my sex fogged mind:

  Make love to me.

  Make me a woman.

  Take my virginity, please!

  But, “Fuck me, Dante. Fuck me right now,” was what fell from my lips.

  Dante stared up at me for a moment, a little smirk pulling at his lips.

  “Whatever the lady wants.”

  He reached over and opened the top drawer of his nightstand. The rustle of foil, a moment for him to roll the condom on to himself, and then with aching slowness he pressed himself up into me.

  Little shocks mixed with pain I had expected yet was still not at all ready for.

  Pull it out… pull that sucker out!

  And as if he read my mind he stopped. He didn’t pull himself out of me, though, but he did give me a breather.

  He also licked his thumb and pressed that lovely digit to my pussy, to my throbbing clit, and he twirled that thumb around that sensitive bud until the pain subsided, and I felt my vagina pulse and then relax, stretching to deal with Dante’s hugeness.

  And I felt my vagina lubricate itself. It lubricated itself so well I accidentally slid a little farther down his length, my breaths coming in ragged pulls, my mind losing…

  Well, I think I actually lost my mind in that instant.

  And then we both started moving.

  His hips a slow, steady thrusting.

  My legs shaking as I tried to move to match his thrusts.

  Little quakes erupted in muscles, in nerve clusters, all over my body. The pain now a dull ache, all that was left was where we were connected.

  His hands caressed up my stomach, over my breasts, and then finally up to my neck and face, smoothing his thumb over my lips.

  He pulled me down to kiss me, a deep, intoxicating kiss that made those little quakes in me turn into fireworks.

  I was on fire.

  I was a bonfire.

  I was… in love.

  And that’s when it hit me in a sneak attack, a brutal wave of pure elation, my orgasm drowning me in its delicious, warm embrace.

  Oh, god… was I going to pass out again?

  Dante thrust up into me again, snapping me out of my near sexual coma.

  No, I wasn’t even close to done yet.

  I had two years of daily Dante Saint James fantasies to work through.

  I clenched myself around his throbbing cock, clutching at him with the walls of my vagina.

  “Lucy?” Dante panted as I started to ride him—I’ve watched porn before, and there was a long list of things I still wanted to try out.

  I smiled as I covered his mouth, silencing whatever it was he was trying to say.

  It would keep.

  Right then, I wanted to make him come, I wanted to see his face, hear his voice (though muffled) and feel what it felt like to have him inside me when he came.

  Hey, don’t look at me like that! He’s mine now, and I’m going to enjoy every minute of it from now on.

  Dante was grunting, his hands clutching at my hips again, and his eyes were starting to roll up into his head.

  And hot damn… he was getting harder, like a freaking piece of marble harder.

  I started to feel another orgasm rolling up on me—not fair!

  Well, yeah! Having another orgasm wasn’t really something I could complain about.

  But I still hadn’t gotten Dante off yet.

  I was not going to come alone twice in a row.

  I pulled his left hand from my hip, bringing it up to my lips and taking his index finger in my mouth.

  I sucked on it like a Twizzler.

  Dante groaned.

  I flicked it with my tongue and gave it a gentle nibble.

  Dante broke out in a sweat, his hips pounding up into me in a desperate, out of control rhythm.

  And then I slid his hand down my neck and over my breasts.

  Oh… the feel of his hand there was making my heart hammer in my chest.

  What a workout!

  No wonder Dante was in such good shape.

  I felt my body tense, my next orgasm already rushing up on me.

  And to my utter elation, I heard Dante cry out, sounding so out of control, his cock hard and pulsing as he plunged himself up into me, in a jerky, frantic spasm.

&nbs
p; And his face…

  That beautiful, perfect face…

  How it was contorted almost painfully, but then turned euphoric, and then into a sated, very masculine smile.

  Yep, that was exactly what I’d wanted.

  Dante reached up and pulled me down to him and kissed me.

  Could the man taste or feel any better?

  “Lucy Hopewell…” he breathed, his voice a deep rumble. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

  No, I thought as I fell into another long, hot kiss with him. I was going to do everything in my power to keep him living forever.

  Chapter 20

  Six months later…

  Lucy

  My three assistants were all feverishly trying to ask me questions.

  This was their big moment after all.

  They’d been trained and working under me for more than a year, all in preparation for exactly this moment.

  And no, I’m not jealous of them—this isn’t exactly how I’d pictured their implementation, but…

  Well, looking down at the karat and a half diamond solitaire, with an exquisite platinum art deco lattice design setting (it had to be big enough to satisfy Dante, and yet I wanted to be able to type without having to take it off), and it’s matching wedding band, I had to admit I was getting the better of this deal.

  The wedding had been yesterday—a fairly intimate ceremony in the botanical garden Dante had in one of the corners of his penthouse.

  I know… a botanical garden. Makes you wonder what else is hidden in that penthouse, this building… or any of his four hundred properties around the world.

  My mom was there, looking happy, crying and laughing as if she’d been drugged. My unholy trinity of friends: Dion, Jessica, and Harper—who are more like frenemies, though they’d all come to the rescue in the middle of the night—were there too. Jessica would come with empathy and ice cream, Dion with vodka and a quick wit, and Harper with the F bomb and a baseball bat.

  Mrs. Roark was there, though we tried to get her to relax—but she was well used to being in charge, and making sure everything was perfect.

  Dante’s sister, Tessa was there, as was her fiancé, Nicholas. He’d recently graduated and turned down a job offer to work at Saint James LTD. I knew immediately that Dante was much happier about the man being with his sister when he’d said no. The man was fiercely independent, and in the last six months had gotten Tessa not only into group therapy, but out of the old Saint James estate and into their own apartment right off Hyde Park Boulevard. It was a very nice neighborhood bordering on the Gold Coast. The man was already making seven figures.