Page 26 of Nemesis

This time looking me in the face. I keep my gaze on his parted lips. Eye contact seems forbidden and dangerous. The tattoos on his neck, the dragon tail curling over his shoulder, move with every flex of his muscle. My attention wanders down his throat, to his chest. The seared brand dead center, the scar disfiguring the tattoos underneath. The galaxy over his heart that represents his lost love.

Lower.

He grips my hair and tugs my head back suddenly, so I can’t even see if his cock is tattooed. I look down my nose and stare at his face.

The pain in my scalp and between my legs is wicked. I wrap my legs around his hips, digging my heels into his ass.

“You’re the absolute worst,” I say to him. Or the ceiling. The pressure on my scalp is, surprisingly, keeping me grounded.

This isn’t the first time I’ve had sex since…before. When sex was a negative connotation. In the decade since, I’ve learned a lot about myself. Shed the view that it’s all bad, that I’m a dirty creature… although here Saint is, telling me everything bad about myself.

And I don’t mind it.

He’s not gentle, he’s not tiptoeing around my trauma.

I think I like it…

He grunts.

“You’re a parasite,” I breathe, although it’s more of a moan. “You come into my home and keep terrorizing me.”

He runs a finger over my clit, and I nearly jump out of my skin. I focus on the stupid recessed light above me and try not to actively groan. He’s working wonders on me, elicitingpleasurewhen I’m pretty sure all I deserve is pain. Especially from him.

The dichotomy is going to ruin me.

“Am I terrorizing you now?”

He’s more of a mess than I am, darkened skin around his eyes, his face swelling. And he never stops moving, like fucking me is just something his body needs.

“Ask me in five minutes,” I manage.

He presses on my clit again, rubbing the little bud until my mouth gapes open and pleasure zings through me like a lightning bolt.

“You think this is going to take that long?”

There’s a flush making its way up his neck.

He plays me with expertise. I blame my lack of sexual activity lately, but I come on his fingers and cock too fast, and every moment of it feels like watching a train wreck. I imagine if someone were to shove me off a cliff, instead of just jumping, that’s what this would be like. It’s the surprise of it more than anything. My back arches, and I squeeze my eyes shut against the feeling.

He grunts again, although it’s very pointedly fucking snobby.

Just when I think he’s going to come inside me, he pulls out and fists his length. Itistattooed. I catch a glimpse of it through his fingers, the head red and wet with my arousal.Fuck me, that’s hot.

Three jerks later, and his cock erupts.

It hits my still-throbbing core, the insides of my thighs. We’re both breathing hard.

In the silence, my mind comes back to me. I didn’t just have sex—which is not the problem. It’s that I finally broke and fuckedSaint Hart.

My skin crawls.

When he comes back to the present, he meets my gaze.

He’s equally horrified.

7ARTEMIS

I showup at Olympus on my bike, so as not to give this Atlas character any impression of being a freaking chauffeur.

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