Page 18 of Ravaged Saints (BloodHawks Duet #1)

I don’t even bother to knock; entering the room, I find Ethan standing while Bryn sits on the bed. She turns to look at me as I walk in. Her eyes roam up and down my body, and I try not to frown.

“Hey,”

I keep my tone calm and friendly. Things don’t need to escalate even more.

“Ryker didn’t need to come at me like that!”

Ethan snaps, his tone dripping with rage as he paces back and forth like a caged animal.

“He counted twelve boxes. Are you sure you didn’t move them?”

I press. I trust Ryker with my life. We’ve been in the Bloodhawks for years, and he’s always had my back. Ethan wasn’t part of the original unit, but since we all got stuck together, he hasn’t given us a reason not to trust him. At least, not until now.

“He’s pissed at me because I didn’t hear the shot in town! I was in the fucking underground parking and couldn’t hear shit!”

Ethan growls, his muscles tensing as his fists clench, his knuckles turning white.

“Tell them the truth, Ethan,”

Bryn cuts in, and we both snap our heads toward her. She sits on the bed, her legs pulled up, hugging them close to her chest. Her long blond hair is braided, and her sharp blue eyes meet mine for a second before shifting to Ethan.

“Ethan,”

she presses again, shaking her head. “He took the boxes to teach me how to shoot.”

“What?”

I look between them, my brows furrowed. “We haven’t heard any shots lately.”

If they were target practicing, we would’ve heard it. I know they leave the base to take care of the animals or gather fruits and herbs, but shooting? There’s no way.

“Silencer,”

Ethan mutters, his tone defensive. “I knew you guys wouldn’t let me target shoot with Bryn, but she needs to learn. She’s not like Aspen, who knows her way around a gun.”

I glance between them, trying to make sense of this. What the actual fuck is going on? Something feels off, and I can’t shake the feeling I’m being lied to, but why would they both lie?

“So the two boxes that are missing?”

I ask, focusing on Bryn, but her face is unreadable, like a stone wall. She hides her emotions too well, and it’s pissing me off.

“Why didn’t you tell Ryker that?”

I demand, my frustration bubbling to the surface. Is this what gaslighting feels like?

“He’d be pissed no matter what I said,”

Ethan shrugs. He’s stopped pacing, but his eyes keep darting to Bryn.

“Fuck, Ethan. Next time, just be honest, man.”

I exhale deeply, dragging a hand through my hair.

I don’t know if I should buy this story, but I don’t have much of a choice. Ethan’s been with us for six years, and Bryn doesn’t exactly scream “evil mastermind.”

Still, something doesn’t sit right.

“I’ll talk to Ryker,”

I say, leaving. “But Ethan, don’t ever call Ryker by his code name again.”

My tone sharpens as I glance back at him before closing the door behind me.

We all have code names since we went rogue and turned mercenaries, and only we get to use them when we feel like it. Ethan’s not part of that bond. Hell, I’d let Aspen call me by my code name every damn day, and the other guys probably feel the same. But Ethan? There’s a line, and he’s not crossing it.

I spot Max and Aspen coming from the bunker, and it’s obvious they’ve been fucking—not because of Max, but because Aspen looks like a sexy mess. Her hair is a wild disaster, even tied back in a ponytail. Her cheeks are flushed a deep red, and her lips look swollen. Did Max throat-fuck her?

Max glances my way, and I smirk. My eyes flick between him and Aspen, and the corners of his lips curl up in a knowing grin. So much for Aspen’s “let’s go slow”

request last night.

“So?”

Knox’s asks from behind me as Max and Aspen approach.

“He used the boxes for target practice,”

I say, my gaze shifting to Knox. “To teach Bryn how to use a gun.”

“He what?”

Ryker asks, dripping with sweat, his shirt clinging to his chest and biceps. He must’ve gone for a run, probably pushing himself to the edge out of pure rage.

“He didn’t want to tell anyone. Thought we wouldn’t understand,”

I explain, though I’m not fully convinced, but we can’t keep this aggression up. There’s already too much testosterone flying around, and with the girls here, things need to cool down. Everyone needs to chill the fuck out.

Ryker shakes his head, letting out a dark, almost manic laugh. “Fine. Whatever.”

He strides past us into the building.

Max exchanges a look with Aspen, and she leans in, whispering something. He nods before heading after Ryker.

Knox grins as his attention shifts to Aspen. “So, pet, how was fucking Max?”

Aspen’s face turns even redder. “I didn’t—”

she snaps, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. “We didn’t—”

She shakes, but her eyes are locked on Knox.

“Oh, Aspen,”

Knox chuckles, stepping closer. “If you’re going to pretend you didn’t just fuck, you need to hide it better.”

His tattooed hand reaches for her chin, lifting it so she has no choice but to meet his gaze.

“And by the look of those lips,”

his grin darkens, taking on a predatory edge, “he fucked that beautiful mouth of yours.”

Aspen gasps, stepping back and slapping Knox’s hand from her chin. “You guys should mind your own business!”

She snaps, full with frustration.

God, I love seeing her all riled up. That bratty side drives me insane.

“We apologize, Miss Aspen,”

I say, raising my hands in surrender, and Knox chuckles darkly behind me.

She shakes her head and walks past us, her ponytail swaying with each step, but I grab her arm, pulling her toward me. Her gasp is soft but sharp, and I lean down, my breath brushing against her ear. “Tomorrow is my turn, doll,”

I whisper.

Her cheeks are red as she freezes, her pupils dilating when her gaze meets mine. She doesn’t respond, but her silence says enough. I let her go, and she hurries inside, her steps quick and uneven.

“Want to join me?”

I ask Knox, my eyes still on her retreating figure.

“I’ll let you have that fuck all to yourself,”

he says with a grin, a hint of mischief in his tone.

I huff. “And Ethan?”

Knox shrugs, though I can see the tension in his shoulders. “I don’t know, Grit. The kid’s an asshole, but he’s harmless.”

“We’ll keep an eye on him,”

I say firmly.

Knox cracks his neck, rolling his shoulders back. “Want to spar, Grit? I need to take the edge off.”

“Yeah.”

I nod, needing the release, too.

We head to the training area behind the base, where the dirt is scuffed from years of training.

I strip off my shirt, the cool air biting against my skin. Knox does the same, revealing the intricate ink that sprawls across his chest, arms, and back. The massive Reaper tattoo dominating his back seems to move as his muscles shift.

Knox is an intimidating motherfucker. The first time I met him on a mission, I couldn’t take my eyes off him—not out of admiration, but out of caution—but it didn’t take long for me to realize he was the most professional sergeant I’d ever worked with.

He’s the one who saved us from a mission that should’ve ended in disaster, and later, when we returned to civilian life, he pulled me back when I was spiraling without the structure of the army.

“Ready?”

Knox asks, circling me like a predator stalking his prey.

“Come on, Reaper,”

I taunt, lifting my hand to signal him.

He charges like a freight train, and I barely manage to brace before his shoulder slams into my midsection. The force takes me to the ground, but Knox is careful, though—I know he’s holding back. Even so, the weight of him pressing me into the dirt is enough to remind me why he’s called Reaper.

I twist under him, planting a knee and shoving him to the side. I spring to my feet as he rolls gracefully, standing in one fluid motion, and a smirk plays on his lips, his eyes sharp and assessing.

It’s then I notice Aspen sitting on the wooden bench Ryker built last year, her arms resting lazily on her thighs, but her lips are slightly parted, her gaze locked on us. There’s something in her eyes; I think our doll is horny.

Her eyes roam over our bare torsos, taking us in, and the corners of her lips curve up sweetly and sinfully. There’s a glint in her eyes that tells me she’s enjoying the show.

“Let’s give her something to watch,”

I murmur to Knox, dropping into a low stance.

Knox nods, storming toward me like the force of a hurricane, and my muscles coil, tightening in preparation for the impact, and I welcome the adrenaline rushing through my veins.

His fists fly, but I block them, our arms colliding with a smack that echoes through the clearing. I sidestep and swing, but he ducks, his movements quick and calculated. The tension between us is palpable, a charge in the air that’s as much about dominance as it is about trust.

He lunges again, and I grab his arm, twisting as I pivot, using his momentum against him. “Got you,”

I grunt, but Knox, ever the strategist, counters, locking my arm and pulling me down with him.

We hit the ground hard, but I barely register the impact as Knox pins me. His weight presses into my chest, his grip is firm, and his face is inches from mine.

“Still think you’ve got me, Grit?”

He growls, his voice low and mocking.

“Maybe next time,”

I reply with a smirk, knowing full well he has won this round.

Knox releases me and stands, offering a hand to pull me up, and I take it, brushing the dirt from my jeans as we both glance back at Aspen.

She’s still watching, her cheeks flushed and her lips pressed together as if trying to hold back a smile. Her gaze flicks between us, and when our eyes meet, she quickly looks away, standing and heading inside.

Knox chuckles, the sound deep. “Think she enjoyed the show?”

“More than she will ever admit,”

I say, a grin tugging at my lips as we follow her back to the base. My eyes roam the living room, but I only see Bryn and Ethan on the couch and Ryker and Max at the pool table. Ryker looks calmer; good, let’s hope it lasts.

We both head downstairs, and Knox enters the showers before me. Looking through the door, I see Aspen about to pass by, and I can’t help but grin. Let’s see how horny our little doll got after seeing us spar.

As she passes by the door, I pull her in, and she yelps. I cover her mouth with my hand, “Easy there, doll.”

I murmur in her ear.

“Jesus, , you scared me.”

She snaps, and I chuckle.

“Take a shower with me, doll,”

I ask her, my eyes on her as her eyebrow shoots up.

“I—”

Her voice shakes, her pupils dilate, but her body is on the defense.

“I won’t fuck you, Aspen; it’s just a shower,”

I reassure her. “I just need to see your beautiful body.”

Her round cheeks blush, and her eyes shine with a smirk. She nods and walks to the shower, and I lock the door behind her.

She starts by taking her shirt off, the bruise on her ribs more visible, and I take a mental note not to grab her there. While pulling her pants down, she looks at me, her eyes on my boxers. There is a mischievous curiosity in her eyes, and then it hits me.

“Max told you about my cock, didn’t he?”

I ask, the realization hitting me like thunder, knowing Max. I know he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

She bites her bottom lip, and my breath hitches. Damn her. My hands clench at my sides, struggling to keep from bending her over the bench in the shower and fucking her.

Aspen slides her panties down and then unhooks her bra, crossing her arms over her chest to hide her nipples. My gaze never leaves hers, but I step out of my boxers, and her eyes trail lower—slowly, a sinful look in her eyes.

When her gaze lands on my cock, she freezes, her lips parting in shock, her eyes going wide.

“Oh my God!”

She whimpers.

I can’t hold back the laughter that bursts from me. Her face is priceless.

“How many do you have?”

She asks, her tone almost panicked.

It takes a moment for me to stop laughing, the sheer horror on her face making it nearly impossible. “Nine,”

I answer finally, still grinning. “It’s called a Jacob’s ladder, like Knox and a crown piercing.”

Her eyes are glued to my cock, and I feel myself harden under her gaze. I try to keep control, but at this point, all the blood in my body has headed south, and there’s no way I can bring it back up.

“Get in the shower, doll,”

I say with a lower growl. There’s something in her eyes—hesitation maybe—and she stands frozen, her gaze narrowing as her tongue darts out to wet her bottom lip.

I tilt my head, trying to read her, trying to figure out what’s going on in that beautiful mind of hers, but before I can make sense of it, she takes a step away from the shower.

I nod slowly. “Aspen, if you don’t want to shower with me—”

“Make me,”

she blurts out.

I almost lose my fucking breath. Did she just say make me?

“Oh, doll,”

I groan, my voice thick with something primal as I stride toward her. She moves back quickly, dodging my grasp, and I let her. If she wants to play, I’ll oblige.

Her body twirls to the other side of the bathroom, and I turn to follow her. I reach for her arm, but she ducks and goes around the bench that sits in the middle. I smirk.

She doesn’t get far. I grunt, lunging forward. Leaning in, I grab her knees and lift her effortlessly, throwing her over my shoulder.

She giggles—she fucking giggles like a schoolgirl—and I feel the last thread of control I’ve been clinging to snap.

Walking into the long shower, I slap her ass hard, the sound echoing off the tile, and she yelps, trying to squirm, but I tighten my grip, keeping her in place.

Knox turns at the noise, raising a brow.

“Look what I’ve got here,”

I say darkly.

“So, pet,”

Knox drawls, his tone teasing, “did you enjoy watching us fight? Did it make you wet?”

“No,”

she snaps, her tone sharp, trying to sound unaffected.

“Oh, really?”

he says, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Last time you said that, you were lying.”

Knox steps closer, his grin deepening; he nods, and I know exactly what he’s thinking.

I shift my grip, grabbing the back of her knees and parting them, exposing her beautiful cunt to him. She gasps and tries to close her legs, but I don’t let her.

“I think she’s lying again, ,”

Knox says with a chuckle.

He leans down, his mouth just inches from her pussy, and I can tell already she is soaking. His tongue darts out, and I watch as he licks her slowly, dragging it from her ass to her clit, making her moan louder.

“Lying again, pet,”

he tsks, shaking his head. “I think needs to punish you.”

Grinning, I raise my left hand and bring it down hard on her ass, and she whimpers, the sound so sweet it makes my cock throb, her skin flushes red under my palm, and I let out a low growl.

“, please,”

She begs, and I bite inside my cheek, “Now you are begging, doll?”

Knox comes closer, pulling her ass up. He leans in again and starts to lick her, his tongue pressing on her clit, and she moans, her body shaking under my grip, but I hold her tighter. I move my hand around her ass, brushing my fingers in her tight hole, and she freezes. I grin.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to fuck your ass, doll.”

My voice drops an octave, and Knox looks up at me with a smirk, his tongue working on her clit, and she moans. “Not yet, but I will.”

She whimpers my name, and I move my hand down, reaching her entrance. Knox moves down, giving me room.

“Oh fuck.”

She sinfully whispers, and I thrust one finger inside her cunt as Knox continues to lick and suck. She yelps, and I feel her walls stretching.

“Fuck, you taste like sin, pet,”

Knox groans into her pussy, thick with hunger, and I feel her body stiffen at his words, trembling in my hold. The sound of his lips and tongue working her drives me mad, but it’s the way her breath hitches, the way her thighs quiver, that undoes me completely.

I thrust another finger inside her, relentless, and her scream pierces the air, her body writhing against my hand as I finger-fuck her mercilessly. Her hips buck, desperate and needy, moving in rhythm with Knox’s tongue. She’s trying to take more—more of me, more of him—and it makes something dark and feral claw its way to the surface.

“That’s it, doll,”

I growl, low and rough. “Come for us.”

Knox presses his tongue harder against her, and I curl my fingers, hitting that sweet spot inside her, and her head snaps back against my shoulder, her body arching, and I feel the heat radiating off her, the way her nails dig into my skin. She consumes me, completely and utterly.

She’s fire and sweetness, and I realize how much I need her, how much my body craves her like a man starved. Every muscle in me screams for her touch, for her nails to pierce deeper, to mark me as hers. Fuck, she’s all over my senses—her scent, her sounds, the taste of her—and I still want more. I’ll always want more.

“Oh God, I’m going to come,”

she whimpers breathless.

Her words set me off like a match to gasoline. Both Knox and I pick up the pace, pushing her higher and dragging her over the edge. She shatters in my arms, screaming and moaning as her body convulses. I keep my grip on her firm, making sure she doesn’t fall as her orgasm tears through her, leaving her shaking and helpless in my hands.

“Fuck,”

she finally mutters, the curse slipping from her lips like a sin of its own. My cock throbs at the sound, desperate for her, and I bite back a groan. Her body sags against my shoulder, limp and trembling, her breathing ragged.

“Knox,”

I say, my tone dark and heavy, the weight of her still pressing into me, and the hunger I feel for her far from satisfied, but I notice she isn’t moving, so I pull her to my front, settling her into my arms as her body trembles, spent and fragile. Knox steps closer, his hand brushing gently against her face to move the damp strands of hair away, but her eyes remain closed, and the soft smile that tugs at her lips makes me smile.

“Doll,”

I murmur low.

“You said you wouldn’t fuck me.”

Aspens chuckles, her eyes still closed as she snuggles into me.

“I didn’t fuck you, we didn’t fuck you, we made you come,”

I whisper.

“Hmm, next time then.”

She purrs, and my cock twitches. I know I’ll have to jerk off in my room after this shit.

“Fuck,”

Knox mutters under his breath, stepping back under the stream of the shower, water cascading over his body, and I’m guessing he is feeling the same.

I press a kiss to her temple. “Let’s get you washed, okay?”

I say softly, moving toward one of the showers next to Knox.

Placing her on her feet, I keep my arm firm around her waist as she leans heavily into me, her head resting on my chest. She’s exhausted, her body pliant, but the trust she gives me in this moment wraps around my heart like a vice.

“Don’t let me fall,”

she whispers, her voice so quiet it’s almost lost beneath the sound of the water.

“I won’t, doll,”

I promise, my tone steady, and my hand tightens at her waist, anchoring her to me. I glance up at Knox, who meets my eyes with a smirk, mischief dancing there, but there’s something deeper, something unspoken we both understand.

“We’ll never let you fall,”

Knox says and I nod.

How the fuck did this girl wrap us around her finger in just a few weeks…