Page 173 of Vicious Saint
“I told you I won’t stop.”
There’s an apology in there somewhere, I can hear it and feel it.
But definitely don’t need it.
Biting my inner cheek so hard I taste copper, I tell him, “I know.”
This time when he kisses me, it’s against my forehead, so tender yet heavy with words unspoken. I love what he’s doing, but not the dread suddenly whirling in my gut.
“Saint, is everything okay? Did something happen?” I question, but he ignores me by dousing two fingers in lube.
I saw him walk into his father’s office earlier, and intended to listen, but my mother pumped the brakes when she caught me with my ear against the door.
“Come chat with the girls,”she said.“I want you and Theory to go over our checklist of things we need for the first day of school.”
Of course I listened, because making a scene would only deter Saint from getting the answers we needed.
But now watching him act as though a proverbial shoe is about to drop, I wish I snooped harder instead of choosing sleep.
Maybe then I’d know why he seems just as wary as I am.
“Saint—”
I’m cut off by my body tensing as two fingers tease the entrance of my ass, pushing in and priming me until my chest and shoulders relax.
“Good girl. Breathe.” With that, he advances to his knuckle, seizing me once again.
My nails are clawing into the mattress when he mutters, “I got you, Jimi. Just stay with me.”
Why?
Why does he have to sound so sincere?
Make me not hate him?
What happened to the ruthless motherfucker who promised inevitable torture?
He’s gone, at least for now, and in his place is a guy I never thought would have me rooting for him.
Rooting for…
I gasp for air when the length of Saint’s fingers plunge inside me, the only thing holding me together being his lulls and praise. “You’re doing so good. I can’t wait for my cock to be inside you.”
“So be inside me.”
The noise he makes is half grunt half laugh. “Don’t tempt me, Jimi. Not when I’m trying to be gentle.”
“So stop being gentle,” I demand, harsher than intended, then regret it immediately when he pauses to read my face.
I don’t want to go bitch mode, not when I’ve got Saint choosing intimacy for me.
But I’m scared and regretful of so many things.
Things I know I’ll have to face in the morning, with or without him.
“Is that what you deserve?”
Talk about a loaded question.
