My Darling Arrow (St. Mary's Rebels 1) - Page 80

And his dick is so. Fucking. Big.

And thick and dark-looking with a vein running on the underside of it. It curves slightly too, his shaft, at the end, the head fatter than the trunk.

Also, can I just say that it’s so pretty? Like, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything prettier than his dick and I wonder if anything this big and capable of doing real damage can look pretty.

It does to me though and I go to tell him that.

I go to tell him that the way his thing curves and the way it’s standing up straight, reaching his belly button, is so beautiful but the sound of crinkling distracts me.

He has a condom in his hands that I somehow missed, and now he’s snapping it on his length. When he’s done, he stands there, naked and gorgeous, staring at me, and my feet slide up and down his messy bed.

He looks at my hair that must be spilled all around his pillow, followed by my cheeks. He stays a beat longer on my nose, which he’s always been so curious about, before going to my parted and painted lips. Then he looks at my heaving, flushed breasts and my trembling stomach. I still have my plaid skirt around my waist and my soccer cleats on, which I didn’t realize that I hadn’t taken off.

His eyes make me restless and I squirm on his bed, wanting him close. “Arrow.”

He looks up then, and as soon as our eyes clash, I raise my arms up, calling him to me, beckoning him.

A tightness comes over his features, his body, for a second before he moves and comes to me. Into my arms and over my body, his hips settling between my thighs, his heavy cock rubbing against my lower stomach.

When his chain swings and grazes my lips, I suck it into my mouth and his eyes narrow with lust.

Pushing the metal out with my tongue, I tell him, “I love your chain. It makes you look sexy.”

His latex-covered cock throbs on my stomach, his hands fisting the pillow on either side of me. “You mean, like my glares.”

“Yeah, like that.”

“You’re a pain in my ass, you know that, don’t you?”

He says it with such exasperation mixed in with a little bit of tenderness that I can’t help but smile. “I know. But I think you like me anyway.”

He hums, his lips twitching. “I think you shouldn’t push your luck.”

I grin and ask him something I’ve always wanted to ask. “Why do you always stare at my nose?”

He glances at it for a second before whispering, “Because you’ve got freckles on it. Thirteen, to be exact. And seven under your eyes.”

Something about that makes a lump in my throat.

A big, huge, emotional lump and I swallow once, twice, and bury my fingers in his thick, rich hair.

“You’ve counted the freckles on my face?”

“They’re a little hard to miss with how pale your skin is.”

I swallow again and tighten my fists in his hair.

I love you.

My heart screams it but I know I can’t say anything so I say something else. “I’m ready.”

His chest moves and grazes the tips of my nipples before he comes closer. So much so that the strands of his hair brush against my forehead.

“It’s going to hurt,” he tells me in a guttural voice. “I don’t know how much because I’ve never been with a virgin before. And –”

I cut him off with my wide eyes. Wide and questioning as my nails dig in his scalp.

I don’t ask the question – the question that’s suddenly blaring in my head – but he hears it anyway and it hollows out his stomach on a large exhale.

Stupid Salem.

What’s wrong with me tonight? This is the second time I’ve fucked up.

“It’s okay. You don’t –”

But it’s his turn to cut me off with a curt answer. “She wasn’t.”

Meaning my sister wasn’t a virgin back when they got together, and for some reason I bring my thighs around his waist and squeeze him closer. My arms around his neck do the same.

Squeeze and hug.

His response is to stare at me for a harsh second as his cock becomes heavier, more swollen between our bodies, more ready to hurt me like he’s never hurt anyone before.

“I want you to hold on to me,” he orders.

I squeeze him with my limbs again. “Okay.”

“Hold on tight, understand? Dig your nails in if you have to,” he instructs and I nod, my heart filling up with so much love for him. “And if it hurts too much, tell me to stop.”

I bite my lip, trying to keep the smile – despite the stupid moment a second ago – at bay. “Arrow?”

“What?”

I lean up and place a soft kiss on his lips. “Thanks for teaching me.”

His eyes move over my face, all lustful and hot. “Pain in my ass.”

Tags: Saffron A. Kent St. Mary's Rebels Romance
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