Page 115 of Nemesis

A throb goes through me. My arms jerk, but he holds fast to my wrists. He pushes them above my head, holding with one hand and yanking my pants down with the other. He has to shift out of the way, and my cheeks burn.

“Leather pants,” he mutters. “So fucking hot. But why are they so difficult?”

Jesus. “You think I’m hot?”

“I think your ass looks good in these pants,” he counters. He gets them and my panties to my ankles and shoves my legs wide again. He kneels between them, extended over me. “Are you wet for me?”

Before I can answer, he runs his finger down my center.

I arch at the contact.

“Wet,” he says, and he makes it sound like a bad thing. He touches his finger to my lips, smearing arousal across them, before returning his hand to my core. He pumps one, then two fingers in and out, twisting, thrusting. Watching my face.

I glare at him.

He pauses to shove his sweatpants down. He’s already hard. He notches at my entrance and pauses, gaze roving my face.

“This doesn’t change anything.”

“Spontaneous sex,” I breathe. “Of course it doesn’t change anything.”

He nods, then pistons forward. His cock spreads me. The fullness is almost overwhelming. I meet his eyes, my lips parted. He stays there, seeming to search for something in my face.

Maybe he’s waiting to make sure I don’t fall in love with him?

“Get on with it,” I growl.

He tsks and pushes up my shirt. He locks on to my nipples, and before I can open my mouth, he lowers his head. He takes one in his mouth. His tongue flicks at the piercing and the flesh around it. Then his teeth are on it. Tugging.

I groan.

“You like that?” He eyes me, then does it again. “Yeah. You’re a whore for my cock.”

“Move,” I moan. “I need?—”

“I know what you need.” He licks my nipple, then shifts higher.

He bites my breast, and I clench around him. I make another noise. God, how did we end up here? I lift my hips, trying to get some friction. He hisses through his teeth and bites me harder, chasing the pain with his tongue.

And then he moves. He plays with the jewelry in my nipple with his tongue and teeth, sucking, nipping, and his hips jackforward. Back.Again. I bring my legs up higher, trapping his hips with my thighs.

“Do I make you feel dirty?” he asks. “Like how you make me feel?”

I shouldn’t be at the edge of an orgasm so fast, but I cry out when he hits just the right spot. Over and over. It’s too much, between his mouth and his cock.

I unravel, coming with a whimper of pleasure. It holds me hostage, burning bright through my body.

“I’m going to need an exorcism after this,” he mutters. “Fuck me. You’re so wet. Every fucking insult makes you clench around me.”

I know. I’m going to need an exorcism, too. But that doesn’t mean either of us are going to stop this madness.

“Tell me you hate me,” he orders.

He releases my wrists and hooks his arm under my knee. He spreads me and leans up, his attention focused on where we’re joined.

“I’d sacrifice you to save literally anyone else,” I pant. “I hate the way you feel?—”

“Liar,” he groans.

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