Page 148 of Hostile Saint

My eyes scanned and searched for naked skin. “Yeah. Torture. I want you so bad it hurts.”

“Then why am I still in this?” The goddess gestured to her sweatshirt, then laid her arms above her head, tempting me to strip her next.

Don’t have to ask me twice!

Lifting that shirt over her head, knowing she wasn’t wearing a bra to block my view of her naked breasts, I was licking my lips… until I saw new fucking scars.

I had them all over my middle section. Why I hadn’t realized she would, too, I have no idea. But I again wanted my weapons so that, after I brought the brothers back to life, I could slice them up all over again.

Stuck in her halfway removed shirt, Lace said, “Umm, Tate?”

“Oh, shit. Sorry.” Finishing with undressing her from her sweatshirt, I found a very believable excuse for my deadly pause. “Damn, I got so distracted with the best set of boobs in the whole world.”

She lay there, topless and stunning. “Whole world?” Her confident smile had chills breaking out over my whole body as she added, “You’re forgiven.”

My dick suddenly pulsed as if to say, Hey, fucker! Get to work! I’m dying down here! causing my eyes to wander down to the juncture only covered by a little defenseless pair of panties, which didn’t stand a chance against my revved body.

“Tate?”

“You’re only wearing these.” It wasn’t even fair to the poor cotton that was about to be annihilated.

That daring girl sounded so fucking sexy as she admitted, “I don’t want to be.”

So, we are on the same page. Point taken.

Hornier than I had ever been, I shook as I pulled down her panties to see the glistening core I wanted to devour. Panting, I said, “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”

Secretive lips were calling out to me like a siren—

“Not even my face?”

What face? My eyes pulled from one perfection to see something truly exquisite. “What’s between your legs can not be compared to your face. Those hazel eyes are my undoing. I swear it. And your long golden hair? Don’t get me started.”

When it was long, cascading over phenomenal shoulders, I would just sigh in amazement.

Her face was artwork, and her body was making me crazed with hunger. I even told her so and pointed to my throbbing erection.

“Can I?” she asked, holding out her hand, needing permission to touch.

Jesus. H. Christ.

I think I precummed and uttered incoherent words before she even touched me. When she did take a soft hold, I believe I lost consciousness. Or I said something ridiculous like, “Your hand feels so much better than mine.”

Not my finest moment.

Her wonderfully pulling on my dick literally melted me. I fell forward, catching myself on my hands. “Please don’t stop, but I need to feel you, too.”

With hazel eyes going half-mast, she whispered, “Okay.”

Bracing myself with one hand, my other slowly searched for what I knew would steal all of my senses. When my fingertips found her heat, I almost blacked out completely. “So wet… Why does you being so wet make my mouth water?” I had to see her pussy, my personal heaven. So, I rushed from where I had propped myself up and sat back again, not even caring that her hand let go of my cock. I needed to touch her.

Gently, I swiped up and down, spreading her juices before finally sinking my finger inside her cave of goodness. Her channel was so sensuous, I had to keep swallowing, craving those juices to be spread all over my tongue.

Wanting to create even more, my thumb went to work on her clit.

Instead of telling me to stop, her legs widened farther apart.

Ah, fuck!