Thanks for popping over from Facebook! You can continue reading the scene from My Fallen Saint below:
With my other hand I cup his ass even as he roughly shoves his hand into my jeans, still conveniently unzipped. I’m incredibly wet, and I break our kiss to suck in air as he thrusts three fingers inside me, and I grind against his hand, so lost in sensation that my only cogent thought is more.
“Dangerous enough for you?” His words are low and sensual but edged with fire. “You don’t even know what danger is, Ellie. Forget getting caught. You play with me, and you really will get burned. And this skin,” he adds as his other hand caresses the swell of my breast, “is far too beautiful to scorch.”
I whimper, trying to process his words. Telling myself that I should stop this. That this is a very bad decision, and I shouldn’t want him.
Except I do want this, and my brain is far too lust-hazed to make any distinction between the man and the sensations he’s rousing in my body.
And so I do the only thing I can do—I surrender.