Page 104 of Nemesis

Another finger works its way into her tight walls, joining the first. I brush her hair back with my other hand, pressing her teeth deeper into my skin to muffle her cry at the sensation.

“That’s right,” I whisper against her ear, thrusting my knuckles deeper. “Ride my fingers like a good girl.”

Her hips follow suit, riding my hand and rubbing her little clit against my thumb. It’s not long before her muscles line with tension, and she starts chasing the climb of her high. I keep my pace.

She’s everything.

It’s all I can think—the only thought spiraling inside my skull. I’m fucking obsessed. She’s lost to need, clutching every piece of me she can reach to chase her high, and she’s never looked prettier. A siren. Women like this were made to lure men off cliffs.

It doesn’t escape me that each comment causes her muscles to clench tighter around my digits and her hips to twitch with uncontrolled thrusts. Seems like my girl’s got a bit of a praise kink. I wonder what other delicious secrets she’s hiding behind those pretty green eyes.

Soon enough, she’s moaning hard against my shoulder, teeth tightening into my skin.

“That’s my girl. Come for me,” I say, while fighting the urge to come in my own pants just listening to the wet, sticky sound of my fingers sliding into her tight core. I haven’t done that since I was a teenager, but I can feel my control fraying.

She comes with a sharp inhale, which slowly gushes free from her lungs alongside an addictive cry.

I watch.

That was so fucking hot.

My fingers thrust leisurely, slowing the pace and allowing her to catch her breath in the comedown.

But then she yanks her teeth free and laps away the hurt with her wet tongue.

“More.”

The word catches me off guard, and my already straining dick weeps a little harder.

“I don’t have a condom,” I say slowly, trying to calm my heart’s thundering pulse.

“Are you clean?” She raises a brow.

“Well, yeah, but⁠—”

She surprises the hell out of me, her fingers dropping to my belt and tugging hard at the buckle.

“You’re not just supposed to believe people when they say that. They could be lying to your face,” I protest, clenching my teeth in a failing effort to ignore how close her hand is to my dick. I don’t even know what I’m saying at this point. The desperation is cloying.

One inch.

Two centimeters.

“You know better than to try that,” she says, dipping her hand into my boxers and freeing the entire girth in her small hand. The image permanently sears into my mind. “Just go get me one of those pill things after.”

Fuck. Zero fucking centimeters.

I heave out a breath that might’ve turned into a laugh if I wasn’t so goddamn preoccupied by the feeling of her hand stroking my length. “Plan B?”

“Yeah. Super responsible shit.” She squeezes me. Hard. I groan, pushing her back into the wall.

“We don’t have to do this right now,” I say as level-headed as I can manage. “We said we’d take it slow⁠—”

“We did take it slow, Vas. That’s why I’ve had to suffer through lying next to you every night for weeks on end without any sweet relief. I did slow. I’m done with it. I promise, I’ll be fine this time.”

“You don’t have to promise that.” My hand slides beneath her jaw, raising those heated eyes to meet mine. “If you’re not fine, we’ll keep experimenting. We’ll find something that works for us. Understand?”

She tilts her head down in an unconvincing nod. That won’t do.