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Bastard. He’s never going to let me live that down. “Maybe not with Austin, but he’s not the only one I’ve been with since you showed up.”
A mix of uncertainty and jealousy flickers across his features, and I finally realize what a dangerous game I’m playing with Saint de Haas.
“Show me where he touched you then.”
I squeeze my tits before massaging them and letting out a little whimper. “He spent a lot of time here. He said he’d never seen a more perfect pair of tits and he wouldn’t stop sucking on them until I pushed his head down.”
I dare a glance at Saint still between my legs and he is full-on glowering now. “And then where did he touch you?”
I’m playing with fire, but for some reason, I can’t stop. I’m practically salivating over the way Saint can’t take his eyes off me.
Slowly, I stroke a hand down my body to the spot between my thighs. I press a finger against my clit, shuddering and swirling around the sensitive nub. “He licked me here. And then he sucked. Agh!” I let out a strangled moan. “And then...his tongue plunged inside me. Like this.”
My finger dips into my pussy, curling in and thrusting until Saint tucks his hands under my knees and yanks me toward him. Until my ass is at the edge of the desk and my pussy directly in front of his mouth.
“And when you imagined me making you come, did you cry out my name then too?”
Of course he knows I’m full of shit. If he thought for one second I’d actually been with another man, he would’ve demanded his name and he’d already be hunting the poor bastard down.
I place both hands on Saint’s shoulders, all too aware of how risky this game has become. How I’ll never come back from it if we cross this line.
A carnal part of me wants him. Aches for him. The smarter part of me knows this is a horrible idea.
I shove my skirt back into place and push him away, hopping down from the desk and ignoring my throbbing, swollen clit begging for release and the slickness between my thighs.
Bending, I snatch my panties from the floor. “I’m leaving. Don’t follow me.”
Some insane part of me hopes he doesn’t obey the command.
“Muse,” he calls.
Despite every cell in my body telling me to run far, far away from my stalker, from the man who has the ability to turn me on like no one ever has before, I pause in the doorway.
Saint strides to the opposite side of the room and retrieves a book from his shelf. He returns to his desk, gripping a marker and flipping open to the title page, scrawling in it with a flourish.
He approaches me slowly, a devilish grin spreading with every echoing thud of his footsteps.
He holds a copy ofThis Book Will Haunt Youout to me. I open to the title page, where S.T. Nicholson’s signature is scrawled across the page.
To my muse, may you come almost as hard from my words as you will from my tongue.
I gulp, clasping the book to my chest and backing up.
Saint lets me leave with one final promise. “No one will ever keep me from you, muse. Including you. Even if you broke my legs, I would crawl to you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
BRIAR
Mack is herefor theLord of the Ringsmarathon she made me agree to, and she’s texting through half of it.
“Who are you texting?” I peep at her screen, shoveling a handful of popcorn into my mouth.
She blushes as her lips curl up into a bashful little smile. “Zayden Kingsley. I think I actually really like him. Which I already know is crazy because I’ve never met him, so you don’t have to say it.”
“I don’t think it’s crazy.” Actually, it’s nice that Mack is falling for a guy who sounds kind and normal and isn’t a stalker psycho. “I’m glad you’re finally excited about a guy again.”
If anyone deserves to find love and happiness after all the shit she’s been through, it’s Mack.
