Page 87 of Warrior

I look up, and she nods hurriedly at me.

My tongue touches her slit. I flatten it as I go up toward her clit, giving her a bit of pressure. Then down. I open my mouth wider, thrusting my tongue inside her.

Her muscles squeeze at me, and her back arches. A tremor runs down her body.

Good.

All the bad things I’ve called her, the demeaning words said in anger, come crawling back over me.Filthy whoreandslutas I pounded into her.I hate youandyou disgust me.

She’s not any of those things. I’m seeing the reverse of it, the angel on her shoulder, the way she tastes like my favorite dessert. The caring girl behind the mask.

I wrap my lips around her clit. My tongue flicks at it, and I alternate the light pressure and sucking hard, until her fingers slide through my short hair.

It’s moments like these that I want to grow it out. Give her something to grip and pull.

“It’s too much,” she says. “I want you inside me.”

I chuckle. We haven’t even crossedenoughyet—too much is a far way away.

But I oblige her needing something in her. I slide my hand away from her knee and push two fingers into her. I eat her pussy and finger-fuck her, my mouth too full to offer apologies for how I treated her for the last year.

This is just the start of that apology.

She comes on my fingers. My muscles strain to keep her legs open. She clenches on my fingers, her cunt pulsing, and I lick at the arousal that seeps from her.

Dirty girl.

Gorgeous girl.

The front door rattles hard enough to ring the bell.

I pause, looking over my shoulder. The privacy curtain hides us—her—but there’s no denying that I’m here. The lights are blazing.

“Saint,” Tem whispers over my head. “Ignore it.”

I can do that.

I kiss her clit and rise to my feet. I kick away the stool and undo my belt buckle, shoving my jeans down my hips. My cock is red and swollen. Precum has been steadily making a wet spot on my boxers like a teenager.

“You’re the sweetest torture,” I tell her.

She takes a moment to kick her leggings and shoes off, then scoots farther back on the chair. It’s reclined, so she lies along it and spreads her legs again. There’s room for me to kneel between her legs on the chair, or…

I shake my head and duck down, hitting a release. The part her legs rest on folds down. She jumps, grabbing on to the armrests, and barely stops herself from slipping off.

It would be a normal chair now, if the back wasn’t leaned back at such an angle.

No matter. I straighten and grip her knees. My hands skate to her ankles, guiding them around my waist.

Her eyes light. Her gaze drops to my tattooed dick, then back up to my face. She sucks her lower lip between her teeth.

“I can’t decide if I want to repay you for that, or?—”

“No,” I interrupt. “Tem. No.”

She goes quiet.

What could she possibly be thinking?

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