Page 78 of The Bad Boy Rule

THIRTY-SEVEN

SAINT

Lennon perched on her knees between my thighs, staring up at me with those wide, innocent eyes, telling me touse hershould feel like a dream.

This is exactly where I wanted her—on her knees, willing to do whatever I ask of her. Taking all that she has to give and weaponizing it.

That was always supposed to be the plan.

But right now, it doesn’t feel at all like I expected it to, despite it being exactly what I wanted.

The revenge I’ve been so desperate for doesn’t feel as important the way that it used to.

The way I want her right now doesn’t have shit to do with a plan, this fucked-up vendetta, and I’m not sure what the fuck to make of that. Honestly, I have no idea what’s the truth and what’s the lie anymore. Lines are blurring. It’s unnerving because Ishouldbe using her just like she asked, but for whatever reason, I just can’t bring myself to do it.

The girl on her knees for me isn’t the spoiled, vapid little daddy’s girl that I thought she was.

In fact, she’s nothing like I thought she was, nothing like the assumptions I drew.

And right now, she doesn’t feel like revenge.

All I know is that I don’t want to justtakefrom her anymore. I want to give just as much as I take, give as much as she’s willing to give me. And that scares the fuck out of me.

But I’m too fucking worked up to unpack any of that right now.

My skin feels like it’s buzzing, an electric current coursing through my veins, a combination of heady arousal and fueled adrenaline. All I can focus on isher.

“I’m not going to break,” she whispers, looking up at me through thick lashes.

Her beauty siphons the breath from my lungs.

Her hands move to the front of my thighs, palms slowly trailing up until her fingers delve into the waistband of my sweatpants. “Teach me. Show me how to make you feel good.” The words are low, hesitant yet eager, and they make my dick thicken.

My Golden Girl.

Eager to pleaseme.

An opportunity that should have me yanking my pants down, showing her exactly what to do with those plump little lips.

But all I want right now is for her to sit on my face, to drown me in her pussy until I can’t breathe. There’s nothing more in the fucking world that would make me feel better than to finally get to taste her come on my tongue, feel her squeezing my fingers like the greedy girl I know she’ll be.

I’m a patient man, but right now, I’m all out of patience.

“Up,” I rasp, reaching down to pull her up off her knees, and then I drop to mine, looking up at her, holding her eyes as I start to unlace her skates.

Can’t have her impaling me with a fucking blade when I lick her pussy.

She wants to make me feel good, but all I want is to makeherfeel good.

Once I get both of her skates off, I stand to face her. Her brow is furrowed in confusion as I sink down to the bench behind me, pulling her with me.

“I thought… This was going to be for you. I?—”

I shake my head, pressing the pad of my thumb to her lips and dragging it unhurriedly along the bottom one. “As much as I want you to put my cock down your throat… the only thing that’s going to make me feel better right now is makingyoufeel good.”

Lately, I feel like someone completely different when I’m with Lennon, the opposite of who I am, but I tamp the thought down, saving it for later when she’s not in my lap and I’m not asking to taste her, to touch her.

“Do you trust me to make you feel good?” My voice is hoarse with need, with intention. I’m desperate to forget everything about my fucked-up life, my piece-of-shit father, the fucking awful situation that I feel trapped in, and all I want to do is lose myself in her.

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