Page 24

The tattoo is done.

We took some breaks, of course. I couldn’t make her sit still in the chair for six hours straight. We ordered dinner, stretched our legs…

Meanwhile, I’ve been fighting a freaking hard-on since I turned around and her breasts were staring at me. It didn’t diminish much when she told me about Terror. Specifically, about Reese and then, later, Apollo’s rescue.

I can’t figure out if I hate Reese or if I want to give the poor guy a hug. From watching Wolfe operate with his father, I know that some things cannot be helped. Like controlling parents putting their kids in impossible situations.

It speaks to Tem’s panic attacks, however. Seeing him after all those years must’ve been a shock. And having him appear in Bow & Arrow? The very building that used to hold Terror.

Now, I wipe over the tattoo a final time and release her to look at it.

Her legs shake, and she glances at me with a frown.

I frown back. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

Right… why don’t I believe that? The downturn of her lips remains in place until she sees the final tattoo, and then a wide smile overtakes it. She leans in, her finger hovering over one of the delicate flowers at the top of the scales.

She asked why this .

It’s because she is the balance.

“Tem.”

She turns back.

I apply the second skin—a film that will protect it in its initial healing stage, then touch my fingertips to her shoulders. I back her against the chair, and she sits on the edge. Her lips part. I drop onto the stool and inch closer.

My cock is rock-hard now. It strains against my pants, but I manage to ignore it in favor of the girl in front of me. She told me a story—a truth—I’m never going to forget.

Time to show my appreciation.

I move slowly, pulling down her leggings. She rises a bit and helps me get it down, and once the fabric is around her ankles, I lean in. Hands on her knees, pressing her wider. Her pussy is wet and flushed, and I can’t help but lick my lips.

“You don’t have to do that,” she whispers above me.

Have to . I don’t—I want to taste her so bad it hurts. My anticipation has been building and building, and I cannot resist any longer.

This isn’t totally about me anyway. I just put her through pain, and now she should get pleasure.

She sat so beautifully for me.

I kiss the inside of her thigh, by her knee, then drag my lips higher. She shivers and grips the chair on either side of her. I keep moving, licking at her soft skin, kissing. Nipping. I switch to the other leg and continue the climb, until I reach the crease of her leg.

I inhale her scent, then lick at her outer lips. I suck one into my mouth, testing how sensitive she is to me. I want to bring my hand up, to slide my finger inside her, but they’re glued to her knees. I spread her open wider and settle in, my hot breath hitting her core.

A pause.

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 whore and slut as I pounded into her. I hate you and you 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 crossed enough yet—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?

She was used for sex. Over and over. Sold for it. And yet, she’s overcome that with Reese. She seems to have forgiven the one boy who was there on the other side.

If only Gabriel…

Stop it .

Thinking of that monster only makes my thoughts shift to Kade, and the inexplicable thump of anxiety behind my ribs.

I fist my cock and stroke it, although it’s unnecessary.

What is necessary is a condom, but I don’t have one.

Selfish, stupid… a combination of the two.

She still covers herself with her sweatshirt, her left arm banded across her stomach.

“You hiding from me, wildcat?” I lean into her body. Sweet, welcoming, warm. I take my time inching closer to her mouth, until she comes to me.

The kiss is deeper that way. It shows me she wants me just as much as I want her. I mean, I figured from how she kissed me in the elevator and the look in her eyes right after.

One hand on my dick, lining myself up with her entrance. The other pulls the sweatshirt away and tosses it to the floor. Her breasts will be my next focus, but first?—

I thrust inside her, and she gasps into my mouth.

The perfect noise.

I rock my hips forward, inching deeper. She’s tight, and I concentrate on her lips instead of her pussy so I don’t burst immediately. After a long moment, I bottom out in her.

Heaven .

Staying there, I drag my lips from her mouth and down her throat. I cover her mouth with my hand, the fingers that were inside her slipping past her teeth. She makes a surprised noise, but I don’t stop until I’ve got her nipple in my mouth.

My fingers move in tandem with my dick. I keep her jaw open. Her tongue curls around the pads of my fingers.

She shudders.

My hand leaves her mouth and goes to her clit. Flicking it, pinching it. She arches, forcing her breasts into my face, and I gladly take more in my mouth. Her pink areola. Her nipple ring sits on my tongue.

Her body trembles with each thrust. I move faster, stroke her harder. We’re racing toward a cliff, and I want to feel her milk my cock as I come.

A thought I keep to myself, though, as I work both of us up.

It takes every bit of control to slow a fraction, easting the tightness in my balls. I want to come now , but she’s only just rising.

Until she’s there, and I let go of my inhibitions.

She comes with a cry, her nails digging into the back of my neck, and I follow.

It’s every bit as good as I imagined.

I rise off of her chest. Her breast that I was mauling—leaving the other untouched, by contrast—is red and puffy. Her nipple stands at attention.

My hips move, and I shake my head at the sensation.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

I focus on her face. “I just don’t want to pull out just yet.”

“Ah.” She makes a clucking noise. She crosses her ankles behind me. “Guess you should stay there, then.”

I nod. But…

Well.

I pick her up, keeping us connected, and take her seat. Her knees land on either side of my hips, seated on my lap, and I smile up at her. I smile . Something must truly be wrong with me.

“Better,” I say.

She hums.

My gaze locks on the scales of justice. Balance. But also… more than that.

She is the justice in this town. The moral compass her brother has always followed, unknowingly or not.

I can only hope she’ll guide Kade’s Cyclopes the same way.