Page 348 of Vicious Saint
A jerk of his hips.
More spurts.
More groans.
So on and so forth until I’m drenched in so much cum the stickiness pools from between my ass cheeks down to my legs.
Holy. Fucking. Hellwas letting Saint tear me up the right call.
My asshole may be sore for days, but this guy’s balls? They must’ve been borderline exploding for two months.
My eyes are open, but I don’t relax fully until Saint withdraws his cock. The second he does, I’m hit with a million sensations all at once. Most good, some bad. Each powerful enough to make my legs buckle beneath me.
“Shit, Jimi. I knew this was a bad idea.” Saint curses as he lays my back onto the mattress.
“Great idea,” I correct him. “And super fucking hot.”
With an amused scoff, he climbs off the bed, and it isn’t until he’s in the bathroom that I adjust my bottom to ease the ache.
Because, yeah. My asshole? Already on fire.
Saint appears again, taking careful strides as he balances a bowl of water stacked with towels. I can see the beads of cum on the tip of his cock as he sits next to me, without a doubt able to go for another round.
The exactoppositeof my pussy and asshole.
Always the creature of orderly fashion, Saint folds the towels in a line on the bed, when finished he takes the soaked one out of the bowl to ring out. Then, with an unreadable expression on his face, he spreads my thighs gently until I’m fully exposed to him.
I don’t argue, because I know, like his darkness earlier, Saint needs his light now just as much.
So, instead, I tilt my head to admire him as he presses the wet cloth to my sore spot, its warmth bringing me some comfort but not enough to stifle a wince.
“I really fucking hate what I just did,” he admits, and at first I think it’s from my reaction, but when he’s bringing the towel to the bowl I see it’s tinged with pink.
Still, I don’t regret a single minute.
I’ve been bleeding a lot recently, at least this time it came with two sets of orgasms.
Trying my best not to wince again, I lift onto my elbows. “Saint, drop the towel and look at me.” He does the first, barely the second. “I knew what I was getting into, okay?Everythingyou just did to me is exactly what I wanted.”
“But I hurt you.”
“Yeah. And I’ll probably waddle out of this room like a penguin. But you know what?” I grin and crook a finger, not stopping until he’s close enough for my lips to tease his ear. “Penguins are kinky motherfuckers who like getting it from the back.”
Riddle me this.
What girl returns to school after two months just to skip four out of her eight classes?
Hendrix Montgomery, that’s who.
In my defense, I didn’t actually walk into the academic wing until after third period.
And fourth period was Calculus.
Honey bunches of fucking nope. Nograzie. No thank you.
I wasnotkicking off my return to the kingdom listening to cranky old Mr. Wentzel blowing snot into a handkerchief.
Mr. Beckett on the other hand?
