“Saint.”
I pull out and flip her over. On her hands and knees. I spread her legs and drive back into her harder. Just because she slept with someone else doesn’t mean I won’t fulfill my promise. It’s almost too late to back out anyway. No teasing—just orgasms. Mine. Hers.
She drops her face to the bed, and the slope of her spine, her waist, down to her curved, wide hips, nearly makes me blow my load right then.
I slide my palm down her back, keeping her bent low.
“Say something,” she begs.
Can’t.
A little busy.
I fuck her until her headboard slams against the wall with every thrust. I fuck her through another orgasm, and reacharound and tweak her nipples, tugging on the piercings until she squeaks out a protest.
Part of me wants to see her face.
Another part wants to question how the sex with Reese was.
Another… the more selfish option… is to make her forget all about him by obliterating her mind with climaxes.
I pull out of her, flipping her over, and use my mouth. My cock is so hard it aches, but I’m not about to ruin it by coming early. I can wait. I do wait.
She comes on my tongue.
She comes with my fingers buried in her pussy and my mouth latched on her breast.
She comes, she comes, she comes.
Until she lifts onto her elbows, and her muscles tremble and shake so much, she falls back to the mattress. Only then do I climb over her and thrust back into her warmth. I bury my face in her neck, inhale her scent, and pump my hips. The friction is just barely there. Her cunt is drooling with arousal and her cum.
My balls tighten, and I groan. I bite her neck, and a flash of Kade’s threat to bite me flashes in my mind.
Shit.
I spill inside her, my cock throbbing and pulsing.
“I didn’t mean to do that.” I almost pull out of her, but she grabs on to me.
Wraps around me.
“Just stay here.” Her voice is more vulnerable than I’ve ever heard. “Stay.”
I exhale. Long and slow. “Okay, wildcat. I’ve got you.”
We shift onto our sides, and I keep her close. It’s the oddest feeling, staying inside her while my dick softens. It doesn’t lose all of its hardness—in fact, its half-mast shape lets me remain in her even longer.
I hook a hand around her knee, drawing it up to my hip. Her arms are tucked like little wings between our bodies, but I don’t mind that. I drape my other arm around her waist.
Hold her tight, keep her here.
Pretend this is enough to set us right.
And finally, finally sleep.
17ARTEMIS
Nadine Bradshaw seemsnothing like her asshole brother. And yet, they’re cut from the same cloth. Same outlook on a lot of things—with different approaches. Different morals, but often things come to the same conclusion.
