Page 150 of Vicious Saint
“You’re hurting me,” I mumble, clawing desperately at his shoulders to get away. Or bring him closer. It’s difficult to tell. But then, when Saint’s thrusts turn harder, it leaves no room for doubt. That even without the water, I’d still be the wettest I’ve ever been in my life.
“And you like it, don’t you?”
Thrust.
“You want more, don’t you?”
Thrust.
So much fucking more I think I’d die if he didn’t give it to me.
“All of it.”
“Good ’cause I’m done playing nice.” Saint rears his head back, and his smile becomes deranged. “I’m gonna fuck the life out of your pretty pussy, and revive it with my cum. Then repeat the process until I become every fucked up part of your DNA. Until no motherfucker can look at you without seeing me.”
My breath hitches as Saint pauses, filling me completely.
“This mouth?” His thumb presses down on my teeth, widening my jaw. “Mine.” He snakes the same thumb between my ass cheeks and nudges my entrance. “This tight little hole?Also mine.”
I’m given no warning before Saint’s assault is on me again, driving in and out as he sucks a line down the hollow of my neck.
Marking me for everyone to see.
The idea of being claimed, especially by my stepbrother, is one that I know will embarrass me later, when I’m sober and unblinded by hateful revenge sex.
The sound of ragged exhales and wet skin slapping drowns out every voice inside my head but Saint’s.
“I knew you’d be tight,” he says through a fractured breath. “That you never been fucked how you deserve.”
“Saint…” I whine, not knowing what else I could say or need from him when he’s ripping me to shreds.
“Don’t worry, Jimi. You’ll be filled with my cum real soon.”
He presses his forehead to mine and groans, taking a breath before fucking me like a madman until my pussy swells, beats, and I’m screaming through an orgasm loud enough for the entire locker room to hear.
Saint doesn’t let up the entire time, angling himself so his pelvic bone grinds against my sensitive clit.
He goes on this way for so long, hurting me so good, a second wave of pleasure, even more intense than the first, shoots through me without mercy.
It isn’t until I’m begging him to slow down that his dick twitches inside me, and warm bursts of cum coat the walls of my pussy.
Saint grunts a curse as his fingers lace my hair, and I don’t know why I choose this moment to open my mouth for him, or why I’m coaxing his to do the same. It just feels right as I watch him fall apart.
Saint welcomes me in without hesitation, still grunting, moaning, hips jerking through his orgasm. Our kiss is a mix of sloppy and neat, closed and open. Tongues searching, prodding, curling together in a dark, haunting rhythm.
“You really shouldn’t have come here, Jimi.” Saint’s lacing turns to brushing back my hair. “This is a dangerous line to start crossing.”
It never ceases to amaze me how fast, or effortlessly, Saint navigates between the different versions of himself.
Only seconds ago he was ruthless.
And now he’s mindful of his actions.
I inhale a deep breath, memorizing every soft and gorgeous feature of his face. “You’re right. That’s why it has to end tonight.”
20
Saint
