Page 116 of Nemesis

“There’s not a word for how much I despise you.”

His eyes bore into mine. “Nice little whore. Spreading yourself for me. Your cunt is drooling for more.”

His pace quickens, until I feel every hit like a bolt of lightning through me. I dig my nails into the floor to try and stop from sliding.

“Break for me.” He rubs my clit hard, his gaze impassive. Watching. “Prove to me you’re a little slut for this.”

He drags another orgasm out of me, and I spasm around his dick. He’s stopped, just watching me writhe around him. Under him. And then, before it abates, he starts again. Faster. Chasing his own release, while I do my best to catch my breath.

Saint pulls out of me fast, finishing himself off with his fist. His tattooed knuckles wrapped around his tattooed dick does something to me. Another clench, a thrill chasing down my spine. He comes across my pussy and stomach. His chest rises and falls hard, and it takes him another moment to come back to his senses. Blinking away the lust and crashing back to reality.

I’m already there.

It’s not as horrific the second time around, but I still crawl backward and scramble to my feet.

He glances at the empty couch. I try not to figure out what’s inked into his flesh. The tattoos are everywhere, not stopping mid-thigh like I once theorized. A collection of small pieces all slotted together like a puzzle.

“Reese went for a walk,” he says roughly, like he’s just realizing we’re alone. “He should be back soon.”

My gaze moves to the window. “When?”

He follows my gaze. The sun has begun its assent, staining the sky in pinks and oranges.

“I…” He pauses, then swears. “I fell asleep.”

“So…?”

He goes to the window and gives me a view of his ass. Surprisingly, the tattoos stop just at the curve, leaving the cheeks startlingly bare. But that’s all I get a glimpse of. He pulls his sweatpants back into position. Doesn’t seem to bother him that his dick is still wet. Maybe he’ll take care of that in a second, because my concern grows the longer he takes to decidewhenReese left.

An hour ago?

Two?

More?

I grab my cell and call the burner, but it’s disconnected. It doesn’t even ring through. I find my pants and rush into the bathroom. After the world’s fastest sponge bath, I reemerge.

Who needs sleep?

“We need to find him,” I say to Saint.

He grimaces, then nods. He takes his turn in the bathroom, while I put on a sweatshirt and comb my hair. I braid it quickly and wait.

Saint comes out, jams his feet into shoes, and nods to me.

Okay.

“Let’s go,” he urges. “I don’t like the fucker, but I don’t want anything to have happened to him on my conscience.”

Uh-huh. I glance at Saint, who studiously ignores me. We stride down the hall to the elevator. I can’t help but think he might be lying.

33SAINT

Why doI keep thinking about Tem’s cunt?

Hot and tight and squeezing. She’s so fucking responsive to every little thing, and those damn nipple piercings threw me for a loop.

So what if my dreams have shifted from nightmares to erotica aboutthose? Biting them, tugging them, twisting them with my fingers. Watching her face go from pleasure to pain and back again without reprieve.

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