Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
“Oh God… just like that,” I utter to encourage him. I want it fast, I want it hard, and I drink up his delicious grunts.
His breath trembles as he uses both his hands to keep me still. He’s no longer holding back, thrusting into me hard each time, and I can’t fucking get enough of it. Each time he plunges in, forcing my muscles to accept him, it makes something in my brain switch off and numb my thoughts. I’m a sweaty mess, but as he licks my skin, humming in pleasure, I stop being self-conscious. This is how he wants me—dirty, loud, and obedient.
I’ve never been more aroused.
He stiffens, his balls pulsing against my flesh as he fills me with cum.
“Do you feel that? All for you…” Saint mutters in a voice so soaked in sex I could get off just on him talking to me like that.
And now that he’s done, happy, I’m reminded of my own need. His cock is still hard and throbbing inside me as I reach between my legs and start jerking off. I want to come with his dick inside me.
I think of him not pulling out yet, of the heat of his cum, of his teeth on my shoulder.
"I want you to sleep with your hole full of my cum…" Saint rasps and licks me from shoulder blade to neck.
When his fingers trace a prominent scar on my thigh, I come so hard something seems to break inside me. I cry out as I clench my ass on his dick. Tears slide down my cheeks at the intensity of my orgasm and I gasp for air, crossing a threshold I didn’t even know existed. Whatever’s on the other side, I’m ready for it.
I whimper when he bites my neck, then leaves a series of wet kisses in the same area, hugging me. “That was… perfect,” he says as his cock slips out of my body. It’s almost strange that minutes before it was an intruder, yet now it feels odd not to have it inside.
I don’t want to think about the sex being something that sealed an illicit deal. I just want to kiss him and feel his sweaty body against mine.
I turn around, still breathless and a little dizzy. “So good.”
Saint’s smile melts away, and he touches my lips. It’s only then that I realize there’s a coppery scent in the air, and when I see his fingers coming up stained with blood, my head spins.
“Did I do that?” Saint utters, his eyes wide as he reaches to the nightstand.
“Wha—? Oh.” I pat the skin above my lip, only to realize I must have gotten a nosebleed.
He’s right back with me and gently dabs my face with a tissue as if he’s not a man with a head in his fridge.
Saint smirks. “That’s a new achievement for me. Making a man come so hard he gets a nosebleed.”
As the haze of afterglow disperses, I’m relaxed and sated, but a little voice at the back of my head forces me to see reality as it is.
Saint will go through with my revenge killings. He won’t hesitate. He wants me to be his and will do whatever it takes to achieve that. I’m both flattered and terrified, because what if I… like him too much?
I could always try sabotaging the last kill so we’re not done before Christmas, but then I’d miss out on revenge.
I watch him with my mind buzzing like a hornet nest. His elegant nose has a small bump that only makes it look more regal, and the symmetry of his face could land him a cover in a fashion magazine. His dark hair is in a bit of disarray after the vigorous fuck, but that, and the flush on his skin is so tangible I let my fingers draw shapes over his pecs.
But no matter how beautiful he is, I’m painfully aware that he’s fucking deranged.
Which is either terrible or exactly what I need in a man.
Once he’s done cleaning my face, he gives me the gentlest kiss. “When you're rested, how about I cook us something delicious?”
Oh, right. He’s also a great cook.
Chapter 14
Saint
I’m invigorated.
Elated.
Sated.
And as I cut the tofu, chicken, and all the other ingredients for our meal, I know I’m gonna enjoy the food far more than any other time in recent memory. The worry that Rowan might try to flee is still there, but his clothes are in the washing machine, the only key to the car is locked in a safe, and on top of that… well, I don’t think the urge to run would be anything more than a reflex at this point.
He enjoyed himself as much as I did, and since I am the only one who can satisfy his thirst for revenge, he won’t give up on our agreement so easily. I have him hooked. Collared. Addicted to my touch. And by the time Christmas rolls around, he won’t want to be anywhere but in my lap, eating gingerbread cookies from my hand.