Page 148 of Vicious Saint
This kiss is not one for fairy tales or happy endings.
It’s carnal, greedy.
Out for revenge.
I dig my teeth into Saint’s lip, and he releases a groan that forms from the back of his throat.
Saint’s wearing a scowl as he grips the small of my back, pulling me to his wet, muscular chest. “You shouldn’t have come here, Jimi.”
I tune him out, not ready to face the regret I know is waiting.
“No more talking.” I break his hold on me and lift my sports bra over my head, then remove my shorts right after, and when I’m standing completely naked in front of Saint his eyes turn hooded.
“Fuck…your tits are fucking perfect.”
Clearly, this guy is confused.
Because I’m not doing this for him. Or his compliments.
I’m only doing this to settle the rage.
I pull at his hair. “I said no more fucking talking.”
Nostrils flaring, Saint hikes each of my legs around his waist to lift me up. Something Stevenson would never even dare to try and do.
I’m nervous at first, since I’m a lot heavier than the girls I know that he’s used to—but the nerves subside when Saint’s effortless in carrying me across the shower.
He kisses me with an urgency that begs me not to tell him to stop. No worries there, I’m too far down the crazy hole.
He drops me onto the bench and damn, it hurts.
“Asshole.”
Saint winks.
A scowl remains on my face as I lean back on my hands, Saint wasting no time wedging his knees between my legs to kick them open.
He stands over me like a tower, jaw hard as he strokes his cock.
“Nuh-uh-uh, can’t fuck me till you beg, Jimi.”
My eyes turn razor thin. “No?Watch me.”
I reach for his waist, pulling him onto the bench with all the strength I have.
Saint falls onto his ass next to me, and I stand to face him, taking a move out of his playbook when I spread his legs. I step between them, shoving his back to the wall as I lift my leg onto the bench.
His eyelids turn hooded as my fingers dance down the valley of my breasts, stopping to squeeze one in my hands.
Saint shoots out an arm, but I shove it away, sliding my other hand between my thighs.
“Keep those hands to yourself, Letterman.”
A growl escapes him as he watches me play with my pussy. I rub myself, then circle my clit, sucking in a sharp breath when it pulses.
Traces of hunger and violence roll off Saint in waves as I scissor the area, exposing my clit to him, then let my eyes speak for me when they dare him to touch.
He tries, of course, but I slap him away again, grinning as I pull on my nipple, using the hand between my legs to inch closer to the entrance of my pussy. Two fingers slide in with no resistance, and I bite my lip through a moan.
