Crossing the Line (A Sinner and Saint Novel Book 1)

by Lucy Score

  “I won’t run away again,” she gasped against the pressure of his grip.

  “He’s killed, Angel. I can’t prove it yet, but I will. Two women are dead, and I’m not going to let you be next. So you will never do this again.”

  She hadn’t been thinking of murder and danger. She’d only been thinking of the slow death her old life would lead to. The slow, sad death of the unfulfilled. And here was the jailer to return her to that life.

  But there was something besides anger in him. A primal drive to claim. He was achingly hard against her. She could feel every inch of his erection as it pressed against the juncture of her thighs. Their flesh was separated by only two thin, wet layers of bathing suit.

  He shifted just an inch, and the pressure of his shaft against her delicate lips had her instinctively moaning. She instinctively lifted her knees and gasped. He moved again, this time a slow glide against her bikini that parted those lips through the fabric as the broad head of his cock moved deeper between her thighs.

  She couldn’t tell if it was an exquisite reward or torture. Waverly only knew that she wanted more of it, more heat, more friction. She wanted to feel him inside her again, filling her once more.

  “Xavier.” She whispered his name on a plea, a prayer.

  He clamped a hand over her mouth. His breath was still coming in short pulls, but she knew it wasn’t from exertion now. No, this was something baser. The need to take and to brand. The need to drive himself into her waiting, wet flesh. She could see the pulse thunder at the base of his throat, the war behind his eyes.

  She did the only thing she could and arched against him, pressing herself to his hard-on, flattening her breasts against his chest.

  On a sound that was barely human, Xavier tore his gaze away from her face. Her bikini top hadn’t been made for running, or wrestling for that matter, and her right breast had burst its way free. Her bare nipple brushed his chest, perking against the smattering of chest hair she’d found so fascinating.

  Her breath came out on a shaky sigh. How could he fight it when he already knew what it felt like? Was his control really that powerful that he could deny himself what they both craved?

  It wasn’t. She read it in the way he looked at her. His desire for control and his need for her were wrapped up in one undeniable urge.

  “Take me, Xavier.”

  The words broke him, shattering his restraint and freeing the caged beast.

  Without releasing her hands, Xavier dove down and took that straining nipple into his mouth. The heat, the surprising suction of it had her gasping. His tongue laved the peak until her breast felt heavy with need, her nipple begged for more. When he closed his lips over it and began to suck, Waverly arched hard against him and was rewarded with a shallow thrust of his cock between her legs.

  He brushed aside the useless cup covering her other breast and plumped the flesh with his palm. The sound that escaped him was somewhere between a purr and a groan. And when his mouth settled over that nipple, his hand returned to the first breast, tugging and squeezing at the tip. He suckled with an intensity that had Waverly seeing a black sky of stars behind her closed eyes. She felt his need as he devoured her breasts in a relentless assault.

  Her own desire skyrocketed when she opened her eyes and watched him worship her nipple with his slavish mouth. Deep pulls on each peak were echoed between her legs. She fought against the grip he had on her wrists, wanting to touch him, to taste him. But he held her still and licked his way back and forth over her straining tips, the cool night air teasing the one that wasn’t in his warm prison.

  “X,” she gasped. She was so close already, and all he’d done was touch her breasts. She was vaguely aware that a desire like this was dangerous. But she didn’t care. She didn’t want safe now. She wanted Xavier. She wanted this prison of lust. He slammed his hips against hers, thrusting again at the opening between her legs that wept for him. And through the layers of clothing, still wanting more, Waverly came. It was a hard, brutal release that ripped through her before she was ready. Her entire body tensed under Xavier’s, forcing more of her breast into his mouth as she fought the tremors.

  He groaned against her and dragged his hand down over her stomach to her hip. With one hard tug, he’d untied the string of her bikini bottom. Still pinning her, still feeding on her, he rose to his knees. He yanked away the material that hid her from him and with the same swift movement, freed his straining cock from the confines of his shorts.

  He released her breast with a pop and levered himself over her. He fisted his erection with his free hand and Waverly gaped. He was even bigger than she remembered. He dipped the head through her spread center, brushing her still shuddering clit and lower to slide through the juices at her opening and back again.

  The broad crown of him was slicked in moisture, and she saw a bead of it bleed from the slit. He stroked himself from root to tip, watching her. Waverly’s breath was coming in gasps. She was so desperate to be filled she was afraid she’d black out from need.

  No, she thought, taking a shaky breath. She would remember this forever.

  He was stroking himself with barely restrained violence, staring at her. There was nothing left of the man that had teased her, the man who had tenderly held her and wiped away her tears. He’d been replaced with a primal warrior who had one goal, one desire. Taking her.

  She was hypnotized by the way he stared at her. Anger, hot and primitive, poured off of him. Was he punishing her or himself? she wondered as still he made no move to enter her.

  She was bared to him, her knees open wide, her bikini yanked open and cast to the side. Nothing separated them now. He changed the angle of his strokes so the head of his penis brushed over her primed lips, parting them.

  The moan that broke free from her throat had him growling, a guttural rumble. With one deft thrust, he surged into her. “Waverly!”

  She was stretched beyond capacity and didn’t care because it was her name he shouted. Xavier flexed his hips, holding himself against her until she relaxed millimeter by millimeter and he slid all the way home in a glorious surge. Every inch of him was surrounded by her wet walls, clenching him tight. He held there, at the very bottom of her, and another orgasm rushed up inside her.

  Waverly quaked around him, enjoying the slivers of pain laced through the thick cloud of pleasure as she clamped down on him with each tremor. This, this was what she had craved. To be claimed by Xavier. She was dizzy with it. Impossibly, she wanted more even as the release began to fade.

  He withdrew slowly, inch by inch, leaving her empty and needy. His jaw ticked when he slammed back into her. The pleasure, a special kind of torture to him, too. This time, she didn’t need a minute to adjust to him. She welcomed his full shaft. Again and again he drove into her. There was no finesse, no teasing, just a hard sprint for the finish. When he hit the end of her, Waverly saw the greed in his eyes. Oh, he liked what he was doing to her, liked that it hurt her just a little. He never broke away from her gaze as his pace quickened frantically.

  She could read the message in his eyes loud and clear. Mine. Mine. Mine.

  Sweat beaded between their bodies, her breasts rebounded, and her hips pumped with every thrust. Her arms sang from their restraint, but still he pounded into her, and she took it, she demanded it. She craved his surrender to his need. And when his eyes closed, when each thrust drew a soft grunt, she knew that he was finally giving her that surrender.

  She gave herself over to him, to his need, and felt the first trickle of panic when the wave began to build. She wouldn’t survive this one, she was sure of it. Xavier Saint would drown her in pleasure so deep, she would never resurface.

  “Xavier!” The panic made her voice sound foreign to her own ears. The wave began to crest inside her. Higher and higher it carried her, threatening her with its promises.

  “With me, Angel. With me,” Xavier ground out the order. And then he was shouting her name as he
pumped into her. She felt it. Hot spurts of semen exploded inside her, and the rawness of it shoved her over the edge. She was coming, a brutal detonation that echoed in every cell of her body. She tremored around him and forced more from him. Xavier jerked against her, in her. Grunting in surrender, awash in desire. He emptied himself inside her as she exploded around him. And as the wave of pleasure broke over them, there were no more barriers between them.

  -------

  The quiet surf lapped at Waverly’s toes, bringing attention to a sensation other than that of Xavier’s body pinning her to the sand. Her world got marginally wider as she began to register the cooling sand beneath her back, the blanketing heat of Xavier covering her front. She could see stars now in the dusky navy sky as evening fell. The moon was nearly full and fat as it hovered above the horizon.

  A catharsis. That’s what had happened, she reasoned. All the anger and hurt and frustration they both felt had imploded in a nuclear reaction. Her body still hummed with aftershocks. She felt as though he’d hollowed her out, taking her turmoil and doubt and releasing it.

  “Mmm.” His lips moved against her neck and shoulder where his face was buried.

  It took so much effort to form the words, but they needed to be said before anything was ruined. “If your next words are ‘this can never happen again,’ I will literally kill you right now,” Waverly warned him.

  “Mmm,” he said again, but this time he stirred. He pressed his forearms into the sand on either side of her and shifted some of his weight off of her.

  They stared into each other’s eyes in the fresh twilight. The anger had dissipated, making way for a tenderness she’d never seen before. Xavier stroked a hand over her cheek.

  “Come on,” he said, his voice a quiet rasp.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To take a bath.” He gently pulled her to her feet and began righting her bikini.

  “I’m not going back.”

  “No, Angel, we’re not.”

  -------

  Money talked, or so it appeared to Waverly, when the front desk clerk at the tiny inn barely batted an eye at her in Xavier’s wet shirt while a shirtless Xavier handed over a credit card and spoke in broken Greek. The exchange lasted nearly a minute with both parties switching from Greek to English and back again. But the language barrier didn’t seem to be a problem when the card was a black AmEx.

  They’d walked half a mile down the beach in the opposite direction and into a bustling island town. Xavier had marched up a steep, cobblestone street and down several blocks as if he knew exactly where he was going. It turned out that he did when he led her up the stone steps of a white-washed building. It was a small, three-story hotel with each level boasting a slightly different design. An open-air hallway pierced the center of one level, dark, weather-worn wood accents adorned another, and a natural stone staircase led to a patio of columns and palms on the third.

  There was a plunge pool in the courtyard, and the pocket-sized lobby was furnished with white couches and woven hassocks. Either the residents of Mykonos were incredibly discreet, or they had already seen it all. No one bothered to give the shivering half-naked blonde, nor her shirtless companion, a second look.

  The clerk handed over a brass key and pointed toward the stairs before ducking back into the tiny office where his dinner cooled on the desk.

  Xavier turned and held out his hand to her. She took it, and they began to climb the skinny staircase with its wrought iron scrollwork.

  “How did you just happen to have a credit card on you?” she whispered.

  Xavier smirked. “Boy Scout, remember? I’m always prepared.”

  “You dove off the deck of a yacht in the clothes you were wearing.”

  He patted the front left pocket of his still damp shorts. “Cash, credit card, pocket knife, and id.”

  “And I just thought you were happy to see me.”

  “I think I just proved to you that was definitely all me, baby,” he reminded her. “One thing I didn’t bother packing was a condom.”

  Waverly felt like she should have been stunned by their irresponsibility. She’d never not used a condom before. But in the heat of the moment with Xavier, she hadn’t been thinking. And clearly, neither had he.

  “Thank God I’m still on the pill,” she said with relief.

  Xavier paused at the last door in the hallway on the left and slid the key into the lock. “You make me forget all my rules, Waverly.”

  “Then what are we doing here?”

  “I told you,” he said, turning the handle. “We’re taking a bath.”

  The room was small and simple, dominated almost entirely by a queen-sized bed draped in cloud-like linens and a mosquito netting more for fashion than function. The walls were white, the wood plank ceilings were white, and the rough hewn floors were rich and dark. There were two small tables flanking the bed and a rickety white-washed dresser opposite.

  But the view, oh the view. Through two sets of patio doors, the Aegean sea winked back at her as the moon rose over the private postage stamp terrace.

  It hit her then. The romance of it all. She stood at the open doors, overlooking the ancient town and its crescent of beach with Xavier’s shirt draped over her. She heard bath water running and then he was behind her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and rested his chin on her head, and her shivers were suddenly no longer about being cold.

  She turned her back on the sea. “Seriously, X, what are we doing here?”

  He threaded his fingers through her damp hair, gently combing through it. “We’re escaping. For tonight.”

  “Xavier, I can’t go back after this.” She wasn’t talking about her parents or L.A. How could she go back to a life where Xavier Saint didn’t touch her like this?

  “We’ll figure it out, Angel. I’m not giving you up, and I’m not leaving you unprotected.”

  “Where does that leave us?” she whispered the words as she lifted her mouth to his.

  “Here.” His lips met hers softly, warmly, and she felt his heat begin to spread through her.

  He dipped his fingers to the buttons of the shirt she wore and worked them free one by one as he leisurely sampled her mouth. When the shirt fell to the floor, he abandoned her mouth and turned her away from him. He lifted her hair over her shoulder and trailed his fingertips down her spine to the tie of her bikini top. With a slow tug, it loosened. He kissed his way back up to her neck and, using his teeth, nipped at the tie there.

  “Jesus, X, what are you doing to me?” she murmured as the fabric loosened, then tumbled to the floor.

  “Everything I’ve wanted since I met you.” His hands cupped the fullness of her breasts while his teeth nibbled at the spot where her shoulder and neck met. Stubble rubbed and abraded the sensitive skin, and Waverly dropped her head back against his chest in surrender.

  He skimmed his hands lower and plucked both side ties simultaneously. Her bottoms fell away leaving her naked except for the fine coat of sand on her back.

  “Come with me,” he said, leading her to the bathroom.

  Here was another wow. The bathroom was the same size as the bedroom, but the level of luxury ratcheted up. The floor was tiled white with a thick pebble inlay that ran the length of the room. Rather than sinks, a long trough with two faucets was carved into the marble vanity. The cabinets were made of the same dark wood as the floor in the bedroom. A large freestanding tub took up the entire center of the room, riding the strip of decorative stone. Water steamed from the sleek faucet.

  “Wow.”

  He shoved his thumbs in the waistband of his shorts, let them drop to the floor, and stepped out of them.

  “Wow,” she said again.

  Xavier tested the water with a hand. Satisfied, he picked her up and plunked her down in the tub. He followed her and adjusted her so she reclined against his chest. The heat of the water and the feel of his naked body against hers sent the chill
packing. Xavier lathered soap in a cloth in his hand and with lazy, circular strokes worked his way over her shoulders to her breasts.

  Waverly arched against him as his palms plumped and caressed her flesh. “I can’t believe this is happening,” she whispered.

  She felt his lips curve into a smile against her ear and then she lost all capacity for thought as his hands slipped over her belly and lower still. With the cloth, he gently stroked and played, arousing her as she never knew possible. Tenderly, he pressed his lips to her neck.

  Xavier abandoned the washcloth and parted her delicate flesh. With whisper light touches, the pads of his fingers circled over that tiny bundle of nerves that demanded attention. Waverly whimpered and Xavier whispered dark words of praise, lips moving against her ear, while his fingers never ceased their exquisite torture. And then suddenly they were withdrawing.

  He cut off her protest with a command. “Turn around and face me.”

  Waverly swirled around in the water, but instead of pulling her into him, Xavier grabbed her from the hips and lifted. She bowed back floating in the warm embrace of the water and let him support her with his rough palms under her buttocks.

  “Don’t drown,” he warned her. “I’ve been wanting to do this for a long, long time. And it’s not going to be over fast.”

  She wasn’t concerned about drowning until his mouth lowered to feast on her wet flesh. Her muscles bunched with tension as she fought against the beautiful, languid pleasure that swirled through her core. His mouth was magic, and the spell he cast with masterful strokes of his tongue had her quivering.

  After a long, deep stroke, Xavier deftly thrust his tongue into her. She gasped as her back bowed, and every muscle in her body tearfully begged for more. With one careful finger, he rimmed her opening until her legs trembled. And when she thought she could take no more, he slid that rigid finger into her.

  In desperation, Waverly threw her arms over the sides of the tub to stay afloat. Oh God, she was going to drown in the most salacious bathtub scandal Hollywood had ever witnessed. And she didn’t care.