Wicked Saint: Sinners and Saints Book 1

by Eden, Veronica

I hand her one of the controllers and get a game started. It turns out she knows what she’s doing. She lays traps and gets boots that send my car spinning out.

  “Oh, it’s like that, huh?”

  “You know it.”

  Gemma plays with her whole body, shifting in my lap as she follows the movements of her player.

  It’s. Fucking. Torture.

  I decide I need to play dirty to win. I cage her in with my arms, leaning my chin over her shoulder as I swivel the toggle to steer my car into a speed boost.

  “Damn it,” Gemma mutters.

  My lips curve and I aim to distract her by kissing the back of her neck. She squirms, making a faint sound.

  “That’s not fair.”

  “Who said I cared about fairness,” I say against her skin. My tongue flicks her earlobe and she gasps. “I’ll do whatever it takes to win.”

  Marissa never wanted to play anything with me. The closest she came to my game systems was sucking my dick while I half-heartedly played a Battlefield match.

  This is making me horny. Gemma is absorbed in the game and hasn’t snapped at me to stop touching her.

  I’m getting into it, grazing my teeth at the juncture of her neck and shoulder as I peer up at the TV to keep track of things. My cock strains in my sweats and I press up against her ass.

  She still crosses the finish line first.

  I drag out a groan and toss my controller aside in favor of wrapping my arms around her waist.

  “What?” Gemma scoffs. “You think girls don’t play video games?”

  “Nah, I know they do.”

  I lay another kiss on the back of her neck.

  “Alec and I used to have limited time to play, so we pooled it together and bargained with our parents to stack how long we were allowed to have.” Gemma tips her head back to rest on my shoulder. It gives me better access to attack her skin with my lips. A soft sound leaves her and her hands cover mine on her stomach. “We used to play a ton together. We’d strategize and take turns going up against big bosses.”

  “Cute.” I nip at her skin. “Time to stop talking about your brother, though.”

  “Yeah.”

  I move against her ass and slip my fingers up the inside of the boxers to touch her thighs. She arches as heat builds between us. My touch roams over her body as she drops her guard.

  I have her under my spell, commanding her pleasure.

  “I want to make you come again.” My voice is full of gravel and dark promise. “This time I want to make you scream for me.”

  Gemma shudders, spreading her legs when I nudge her knees to drop on either side of my lap. My hands dive beneath the waistband of the basketball shorts and give her what she needs, rubbing firmly. I waste no time, gliding my fingers over her slick folds and pressing one inside of her.

  “Ah!” She nods as her back bows. “Okay. Yes.”

  I love having her body spread obediently for me, in my lap and at the mercy of how much I want to give her. I bite her neck, sucking the beginnings of a bruise into her skin as I sink my finger deeper.

  “Oh god!”

  “That’s it, baby. Tell me all about it. Does that feel good?”

  Gemma catches a strangled half-cry. I wrap my other hand around her throat, tipping her head to me. My hand stills and she bucks against my wrist, silently begging for more.

  “Don’t hold back. It’s just you and me here. Don’t hide anything from me. I want it all.”

  Gemma’s breath leaves her in a rush and she gives a tiny nod. I kiss her cheek.

  “Good girl. Get up on the bed.”

  Gemma gets up, hesitantly perching on the edge of the bed. “Um.”

  I crawl across the room to her like I’m a big mountain cat on the prowl for prey. When I reach her, I force her legs apart and slide between them, kneeling on the floor.

  Gemma’s eyes are wide.

  “You’re going to scream for me, sweetheart.”

  I hook my fingers in the sides of the shorts and drag them down. She allows me to nudge her into place and settle between her legs. I hold her gaze for a minute, soaking in her evident desire. Then I drop my attention to her vagina. She’s bare for me and it’s glorious. I tease a light touch over her wet folds.

  “Has anyone else ever tasted you here?”

  A whimper sounds above me. I leer up at her. She shakes her head in response.

  The all-consuming need to own every part of her, to erase every touch but my own rears up.

  “Good. This,” I cup her slowly, “is all mine. Now lie back so I can eat your pussy.”

  “Oh,” Gemma breathes, biting her lip.

  Her face is flaming red. It takes her a beat, but she does as I say. At the first touch of my lips on her, she pops up on her elbows to watch with unwavering alertness. I lick her in a long stroke and her lips part on a gasp. My eyes flash up to her as I lick and suck her pussy.

  Gemma’s legs part without resistance after that, widening to accommodate my shoulders. I hook her legs over them and drive her crazy with my mouth. I shove my hands beneath her and grasp her ass to give me leverage as I torture her clit.

  It surprises me how she embraces her pleasure. She doesn’t fight it like others try to, embarrassed about feeling good. Instead, Gemma rides the tide of it with abandon as I take her higher and higher.

  She’s stunning in every way.

  Taking charge, claiming her pleasure, and bending her to submit feels like heaven as I rip her apart with my tongue.

  I don’t think she’s aware of it when she starts to move, her hips rocking against my face in a carnal plea to give her what she needs. I squeeze her ass as I pleasure her with my mouth.

  Gemma sounds wild, her moans and cries reaching a fever pitch that makes my cock throb. I love taking her apart like this. She claws at the bed, spreading her legs wider, begging in breathy groans for slower and wait, more there, right there, and oh god, yes, harder. I’m learning what she likes and the unbridled way she tells me what will draw her closer to orgasm feeds a fire inside me.

  “Fuck, oh god, Lucas—I’m—I’m coming!”

  Gemma arches from the bed with a sharp cry, bucking against my face. I flick my tongue and stroke her sides, pushing the hoodie higher so I can cup her tits as she comes in a mess of shaking limbs and hitching gasps. Her thighs clench around my head and I continue, pulling back to work her through it.

  I slide two fingers into her pussy and her body seizes, legs tightening on my head and then spreading wider as I slowly pump them deeper, curling them. I hover my lips over her clit, catching my breath. Gemma’s body trembles and I can tell another orgasm is building.

  It comes on fast, the heave of her chest telling the closer she gets. Her pussy clenches on my fingers and I suck on her clit.

  “Oh my god,” Gemma moans as she shatters for me again.

  I pull my fingers free and press my face into her stomach, out of breath and so fucking hard I’m a little dizzy. Her shaking hands bury in my hair, holding on as her body rides the waves of pleasure.

  “God, god, god,” she whispers in a tight, wrecked voice.

  A lazy grin stretches across my face. “That’s what I like to hear. You can call me that from now on.”

  Gemma swats my shoulder with no heat, her hand falling back to the bed. I lift to climb on the bed. I collapse beside her and toss my leg over her thighs, rutting my cock against her hip. Propping on an elbow, I lean over to give her a deep kiss.

  I know she tastes herself on my tongue.

  As we make out, I grab her wrist and drag her hand over my sweatpants on my erection. Gemma pushes my back to the bed and sits up. Her eyes are focused and she chews the corner of her lip. She bounces her gaze between my face and my crotch.

  I cross my arms behind my head and let her figure it out.

  Gemma peels my pants down and blinks at my cock. She saw it in the shower, but I like the determined tilt of her mouth. She wraps her fingers around it and I let out a sigh,
my eyelids closing.

  When her lips touch the tip, my eyes fly open. A groan rips from me.

  Gemma looks perfect, her hair dishevelled, green eyes bright, lips swollen as they kiss my cock. It takes everything not to slam into her mouth.

  “Only if you want to.” My words belie how much I want her mouth on my cock. “I’m not going to make you do it.”

  “I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t into it. I want to,” Gemma murmurs, then takes my cock into her mouth and sucks.

  Fuck.

  The wet heat of her mouth is sublime. I want to live in it forever.

  I drag in air through my nose and rest a hand on the back of her head. My fingers dig at the elastic tie until her hair is loose for me to grip. I keep my word. I don’t fuck her face at my pace, but I keep my fingers in her hair the whole time as she works my dick.

  When she peeks at me through her lashes I groan, my hold tightening in her hair. She moans around my cock and it ignites a coil of fire.

  “Shit, that’s it, baby. I’m almost there.” I trace her lips as they stretch around my cock and, fuck me, she parts them further to take it all—cock and fingers. “God, look at you. You going to swallow all my come when I fill your mouth?”

  She nods.

  My thighs start to shake as I tip over the edge and shoot into her mouth. I don’t have time to warn her other than clenching my fist in her hair. She makes a startled noise when my come hits her tongue, but grabs my hips and swallows.

  “Good girl,” I rasp as my cock throbs.

  My orgasm electrifies me, sparking across my skin in a blaze of white-hot pleasure.

  Once I return to earth, I release a ragged exhale and grab Gemma, tugging her up my body. Our lips crash together as I roll her over, covering her body with mine. As we kiss, I strip her, only parting to drag our tops off.

  When we’re both naked, we collide like joining stars.

  Nothing is between us, our skin sliding together. Her nipples harden against my chest and I hike her leg over my hip. I need all of her, the hunger far from sated.

  The kiss is no longer me devouring her, but a rushing river that drowns both of us until we’re destroyed.

  I embrace the destruction Gemma brings.

  Nothing feels better than this.

  My cock hardens for another round and I glide the head against her folds. She goes so rigid I worry she might crack into jagged pieces.

  Those pieces might never fit back together if I break her. The power to destroy and protect both sit in my hands, weighed on each side like scales.

  “Wait.” Gemma digs her nails into my shoulders and I grunt. “Wait, Lucas. I don’t want to. I’m not ready for that.”

  I press my forehead against hers, growling as I move against her pussy for another minute.

  “Lucas,” Gemma says sharply.

  “Relax. I’m not. You just feel so fucking good.” After one last roll of my hips against her, I fall to the side. “When you do let me, you’re in for it. I’m going to fuck your pussy so good.”

  “Confident,” Gemma remarks as I peel back the covers.

  She slides into bed as I go turn off the TV. I let Lancelot in the room, then duck into the bathroom to calm down. When I come back out, Gemma has Lancelot on his back, rubbing his belly.

  My girl and my dog, together in my bed. It will suck when she has to go home. I wish I could keep her locked away in my room forever.

  “You’re making me jealous,” I quip.

  Gemma lifts her head and smirks. “Is that all it takes? Wow, you’re fragile.”

  “Make it up to me. Give me head again. I haven’t had enough of you tonight.”

  She snorts and addresses Lancelot. “Do you hear this guy?”

  I slip into bed and draw her back against my chest after turning off the light. She’s warm and her skin is soft. Lancelot moves to the bottom of the bed, circling a few times before laying down.

  “Thanks,” Gemma whispers.

  I press my lips to her shoulder. “For what?”

  “I thought you were crazy for making me stay here this weekend. But it hasn’t been as bad as I thought. You can be fun to hang out with, even if you’re a total dick at school to everyone who doesn’t ask how high when you say jump.”

  I cup her breast and tuck her against me more comfortably, sliding a leg between hers. I could sleep tangled with her like this forever.

  “You only think that because you don’t know me. You’re getting warmer, though.”

  “Well, you’re not what I thought you were. Sorry for accusing you. You piss me off with your cocky attitude and over-possessive crap. But when it counts, you do know not to cross every line.”

  “Trust me, sweetheart,” I smile into her hair as I whisper to her, “I want you begging me to fuck you. I only take what I know you want. And don’t bother denying it, I know you’re hot for me.”

  “I—” Gemma huffs. “Maybe. But you’re not forgiven for stealing my first kiss.”

  The admission is a mulish whisper, but it couldn’t be louder if Gemma blared it on a megaphone. First kiss.

  Stunned arousal bolts up my spine at the admission. If I’m her first kiss and the first to taste her on my tongue, then other firsts await. My cock throbs as I rut against her ass, fantasies of fucking her virgin pussy filling my mind.

  It stirs the beastly desire in me to own her in every way. It sounds as if I already have. My thoughts slip to the time I fingered her in the parking lot, how she always responds so beautifully and openly.

  It’ll stay that way. No one else gets Gemma.

  She’s mine. I’ll claim each part of her and never let her go.

  Gemma squirms into a more comfortable position, unaware of my racing thoughts. “You still piss me off, though.”

  “That’s what makes it fun.” I trace my fingertips down her body until they tease into the soft curls between her thighs. “But soon you’ll stop fighting it. You’ll give yourself to me. And when you do, you better prepare yourself.”

  Twenty-Five

  Lucas

  “Lucas, come here a sec,” Dad calls out from his home office as I pass it on the landing.

  I pause on the step with my late night cereal snack. He’s cast in the orange glow of the lamp, files spread across his blotter as his reading glasses droop down his nose.

  There’s a framed signed jersey from the Broncos behind him—a gift from one of his firm’s clients.

  “I found flights for two weeks from now.” Dad looks up over the rim of his glasses. His tie is abandoned on his briefcase, the top two buttons of his shirt undone. “We can go for a long weekend to Seattle. The Huskies have a game on Monday we can go see. Sound good?”

  “Oh, uh.” I scratch the back of my head and shrug, hovering in the doorway. “I guess.”

  Avoidance is going well for me. Now I’m out of rope. I have to make a choice soon.

  My sketchbook sits open on my desk in my room, a half-finished concept in progress.

  Dad sits up, removing his glasses. He motions me in with two fingers.

  “What’s on your mind?”

  “It’s nothing, Dad.”

  “Then where’s your enthusiasm? Is it because you heard the Utes scouts would be at your next game?”

  I blow out a breath. I didn’t know that. Coach keeps us in the dark about that. He figures if we know about scouts, it’ll shake our nerves and throw us off our groove. In his mind, we should play every game like we could impress a scout.

  Dad gives me a sage nod, like my sigh confirms it. “I can check the available flights for Utah instead. You don’t have to go to my alma mater just because I’m a fan of their team.”

  “Dad…”

  He doesn’t hear my weak protest, wiggling the wireless mouse to wake up the monitor. He slips his glasses back on and does that old person with technology face—a slight squint, head tipped back, lips parted and silently repeating the words on the screen.

  I grip the cereal bowl
harder. It’s probably soggy now, ruining my late night treat. If you don’t start eating cereal within the first few minutes after pouring the bowl, it turns into a mediocre, milk-soaked mess.

  “Here!” Dad taps the screen enthusiastically. “Thursday night flight. We’ll tour the campus on Friday.”

  I take a seat across from Dad, careful to nudge his files aside before I put my bowl down.

  Once he was mad at me for a whole week when I was ten and spilled Gatorade on a motion of dismissal that cost him a client. I don’t know if it’s true that my accident lost him the case and made his client fire him, or if the DA simply had a stronger case, but from then on I’ve been cautious around his office. Even at eighteen, that habit lingers.

  “Dad.”

  This time I gain his attention. I take a breath and leap.

  “You’re always telling me to follow my dreams.”

  “That’s right.” Dad smiles. “I want you to be proud of chasing down what you want.”

  Tugging on my earlobe, I go on. My insides ripple like a boat ignoring the no wake signs, disturbing the water with choppy waves.

  “The thing is, Dad…” I swallow to wet my dry throat. “You encourage me to do that, but football isn’t my dream.”

  There. I said it, plain as day. No take backs.

  I drop my eyes and stare hard at the woodgrain of his desk. I hate that I can’t look at him. It’s like I’m barely brave enough to be honest about what I want. My heart feels like it’ll rocket out of my chest. This is the first time I’ve voiced this aloud.

  The application for Oak Ridge College has been filled in, hiding away in my desk drawer for months now.

  Dad folds his fingers on the desk. “Go on.”

  My palms are clammy. I wipe them on my sweatpants. This is so much more difficult than I pictured when I went over how this conversation should go.

  “It’s the dream everyone else pushed on me. Everybody expects me to play football.” I drag my fingers through my hair and tug. “I’ve been trying to tell you since summer. I don’t want to keep playing. I don’t even want to go for a sports scholarship.”

  When I gather the strength to lift my eyes, the remnants of a startled expression cloud Dad’s face.