Page 19 of Ravaged Saints (BloodHawks Duet #1)

I glance at the small farm I’ve been working on and feel a swell of pride. The herbs are almost ready to harvest.

Ryker stands a few feet away, watering the flowers he planted. He’s been assigned to watch me while we’re outside the base—Knox still doesn’t trust me not to run again, but I don’t think Ryker minds being here with me. It’s been four days since his fight with Ethan, and he’s been doing his best to steer clear of him. Still, I’ve noticed the way he looks at Bryn. He likes her, maybe more than he’s willing to admit, and it can’t be easy.

The others have kept their distance since the shower with Dante and Knox. After I nearly passed out, they insisted I needed a break. I didn’t like the idea, and Bryn even joked that I was becoming a sex addict.

I also got my IUD inserted—it hurt like hell—but Bryn was my support, not just during, but the day after. I still have some cramps, but nothing I can’t handle. Knowing I’m fully protected lifts a weight off my shoulders.

This is my first real experience with sex, and I love it. I love the way my body responds to them, how each of them makes me feel something different, and how I can explore the things I’ve read about in those magazines and still feel safe.

“It’s looking great,”

Ryker says, pulling me from my thoughts.

I glance up at him, smiling with pride. “I think a couple more days, and we can harvest them,”

I say, gesturing to the first row on the left.

He nods and smiles, but there is something in his eyes, maybe sorrow mixed with worry. He takes a deep breath. “Let’s get inside,”

Ryker says. “Lunch is probably ready, and Max will lose his shit if it gets cold.”

I’ve noticed some tension between Ryker and Max lately; they barely look at each other’s eyes, and whenever Ryker walks in, Max just leaves, giving some excuse. I don’t know exactly what their relationship was before the Bryn thing, but I think it ended, and it makes my heart hurt because I can tell they are both suffering.

As we step inside, voices echo from the kitchen—Ethan and Knox, louder than usual. Ryker and I exchange a glance before heading toward the noise.

“This is all because of you,”

Ethan snaps, pointing his finger at Ryker, and I instinctively move in front of Ryker, blocking him from Ethan’s line of fire. Ethan glares at me, his lip curling into a snort.

Ryker places a steady hand on my hip, trying to push me aside so he can face Ethan head-on.

“What happened?”

I ask, my gaze darting between them, searching for answers.

“We need to go to the MacCallen farm,”

Knox says, his tone clipped. “But Ethan’s sitting this one out.”

He spins on his heel and leaves the kitchen, his combat boots echoing on the floor.

“And?”

I press, not understanding what the fuss is about.

“And Ethan doesn’t want to stay behind,”

Max says with a shrug, his tone indifferent.

I turn to Ethan, studying him. He’s radiating anger, his body tense. All this over staying behind for one mission? Why?

“That’s not the issue!”

Ethan growls, storming toward Knox, who has his back facing us. “You made that decision because of what Ryker said! You don’t fucking trust me after all this time!”

Dante steps in, raising a hand to stop Ethan before he gets too close. His posture is controlled, his tone calm but firm. “Easy, kid. Don’t put yourself in a situation you can’t come back from.”

Knox turns around, tilting his head with a dangerous smirk. “I think you need to take some edge off,”

he says, glancing briefly at Bryn. “The type you can’t take care of with Blondie over there.”

I glance between them, not understanding what Knox is talking about, but I catch the mockery in his tone.

“Knox,”

Dante murmurs, his eyes locked on him, shaking his head with disapproval.

Knox ignores him, his grin widening. “If you pin one of us, you can come on the trip.”

He crosses his arms, and I can see that cocky look in his eyes.

“Fine.”

Ethan’s agrees. “But I’ll pick who I face.”

Knox nods without hesitation as if expecting this.

“Ryker.”

Ethan’s gaze lands on him, and my body stiffens involuntarily.

Ryker steps forward, shrugging nonchalantly. “Fine by me, man.”

Without a hint of hesitation, he moves past me and heads outside. The others follow.

I trail behind, my steps slower as I glance at Max. “Is this a good idea?”

Max chuckles softly, “Ethan thinks Ryker’s the easy choice. He’s the leanest of us, the recon guy. And Ethan has seen Knox and me pin Ryker down before. But…”

He pauses, his voice lowering. “What he doesn’t realize is that when Ryker reaches his breaking point, he becomes a fucking beast, and Knox knows that.”

We gather around the same patch of sand where Knox and Dante sparred the other day, and Knox turns the speakers on.

“Any requests?”

He asks with a grin.

“Daggers by We Are Romans,”

Ryker answers, and Ethan just shrugs. Knox nods, and the song starts to play.

The guys have speakers all over the place connected to the main stereo. Tons of MP3 songs are stored in a flash drive, and rock and metal are their go-tos.

Ethan is already warming up, rolling his arms and cracking his knuckles. His movements are sharp, and he looks like one of those boxers my father used to watch on TV, full of aggression and confidence.

Ryker, on the other hand, barely moves, singing to the song as he rolls his neck lazily, cracking each side. He looks completely unbothered, but his eyes never leave Ethan.

“Let’s do this,”

Ryker says, heading to the center, but before he even reaches it, Ethan lunges forward, throwing a brutal punch that cracks against Ryker’s jaw. The force of it snaps Ryker’s head to the side, and my stomach twists as I see blood streak from his mouth.

Ryker spits on the ground, his face impassive, and he doesn’t flinch.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,”

Max says, his hand resting on my lower back. The unnatural calm in his words makes my frown deepen. He glances at me, a slow smile tugging at his lips. “Ryker’s got this.”

Ethan doesn’t wait for Ryker to fully recover, rushing at him with another hit, and this one lands against Ryker’s ribs with a loud thud, but he doesn’t even lift his arms to block it.

“Come on, fight me!”

Ethan growls with frustration as he throws another punch. This time he goes for Ryker’s head, but he sidesteps slightly, letting the blow graze him, and then slowly rolls his shoulders, as if he’s just getting started.

“That’s all you got?”

Ryker chuckles.

Why isn’t he defending himself? I’m getting as frustrated as Ethan!

Ethan snarls and lunges again, his punches coming faster and harder, and Ryker takes the hits. His body absorbs the blows like he is being hit by a feather.

The others watch in silence, their expressions full of amusement. Knox leans against a post, his arms crossed, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

“Come on, Ryker!”

Ethan shouts, his frustration boiling over. He swings again, but this time, Ryker catches his fist in midair, and I see him looking at Knox, and he softly nods, and that’s when everything changes.

Ryker’s grip tightens around Ethan’s fist, his knuckles white, and his expression hardens. The indifference he was showing so far disappears to reveal something colder and more menacing.

“You done?”

Ryker asks, his tone low, almost a growl.

Ethan doesn’t respond, yanking his fist free and going for another punch, but Ryker ducks it with ease, and as I blink, he’s behind Ethan, hooking an arm around his neck, kicking his knees, and pinning him to the ground.

The impact sends up a cloud of dust, and Ethan grunts, struggling against Ryker’s hold. But it’s no use. Ryker pins him with one knee digging into Ethan’s back while his arm twists Ethan’s wrist behind him.

“Stay down,”

Ryker says, his tone calm but commanding.

Ethan struggles for a moment before finally going limp beneath him, his breath ragged.

Knox steps forward, his smirk widening.

Ryker releases Ethan, standing up and brushing the dirt off his pants. He doesn’t even look tired or out of breath.

Ethan gets up slowly, glaring at Ryker, but says nothing.

“That was fun,”

Ryker says, with a smirk as if the fight hadn’t just happened. His eyes fall on me, and he winks.

I shake my head. “You’re all insane.”

Ryker and the guys chuckle; Max’s eyes are on Ryker, but he doesn’t approach him. All of a sudden, a soft voice comes from behind me, and Bryn runs to Ethan, throwing her arms around him, but Ethan keeps his gaze locked on Ryker, wrapping one arm around Bryn while his other hand rests on her ass. He kisses her hard, his eyes opening mid-kiss to ensure Ryker is watching.

“Fucker,”

Ryker mutters under his breath, striding inside to grab the bags for their trip to the farm.

Dante stays behind, and I silently thank him for not leaving me alone with Ethan and Bryn. I love Bryn, but Ethan… Ethan makes the hair on my neck stand up, though I can’t explain why.

The house feels empty without all the guys here, and I feel a weird, heavy vibe that I can’t explain, and the thing is when I first got here, even with the fear I felt, the house never felt like this. I almost feel like my intuition is telling me something terrible is going to happen.

I try to shake that feeling off and head downstairs. The BDSM magazines have become my go-to when I need to keep my mind busy.

Passing by Ethan’s room, I hear them. They are almost whispering, and that catches my attention, and since the door is almost fully closed, I lean in to eavesdrop.

Ethan’s tone is sharp, his footsteps heavy. “You need to keep your mouth shut until the time is right!”

"You keep saying that!" Bryn's words waver, muffled slightly by the door, but the frustration is clear. "The time right for what?"

“Just fucking wait!”

Ethan snaps, and the sound of his pacing suddenly stops.

“And if I don’t want to wait?”

Bryn presses, her tone defiant.

There’s a soft whimper, and my stomach twists as I step closer. Is he… hurting her? As I’m about to barge in, Ethan’s voice comes low and venomous. “You don’t have a fucking choice, babygirl.”

Bryn coughs, and the sound sends a shiver through me. Is he choking her?

Footsteps approach the door, and I panic, darting into the bathroom and pretending to step out just as Ethan walks into the hallway. He stops and locks eyes with me; a sweet-as-honey smile that he does so well appears on his lips, and I feel a shiver.

“What are you doing, princess?”

His tone is like honey, but it makes my skin crawl.

“Just… using the bathroom, and now I’m going to make dinner with Dante.”

I throw Dante’s name to remind him I’m not alone here. We aren’t alone; for some reason, Ethan is the only guy here I still don’t feel safe with.

He tilts his head to the side. He is trying to catch a lie, to see if I give any signs, but I stand my ground, a soft smile on my lips. He nods and heads to the stairs, his steps echoing on the steel chairs as he climbs up.

I release a breath but startle when I hear the door close. I look up and see Bryn walking out and rubbing her neck.

“Is everything okay?”

I ask softly, stepping toward her and gently taking her hand away from her neck, revealing red marks on her skin.

“Yeah, of course.”

Her words wavers.

“Bryn, honey, you know you can tell me anything, right?”

I press, hoping she’ll open up, but she just nods, forces a smile, and walks upstairs.

I sigh; I feel like I’m in a losing battle when it comes to Bryn and Ethan. I should talk with the guys, maybe ask Knox to keep Ethan away from her for a while, but things are tense enough already.

I walk upstairs, my hands feeling ice cold, as they always do when I’m feeling nervous. I reach the kitchen, and Dante is prepping dinner, so I grab a knife and start chopping vegetables to keep my mind busy, but I feel his eyes on me.

“What’s wrong? You look tense, doll.”

His tone is soft yet commanding, making my breath hitch.

“Nothing. Just a small headache,”

I lie, shrugging it off.

He doesn’t push, but I can tell by his face that he isn’t convinced.

Dinner is quiet, and the air still feels thick and heavy. Dante and Ethan exchange a few words about the next day’s plans for the stuff the guys are supposed to bring, but my mind is elsewhere, looking at Bryn, her eyes glued to the plate.

I don’t eat much. My stomach feels like it’s in a knot, and nothing can pass through. I get up and start to clean the dishes. Dante offers to help, but I brush him off.

I look out the window. It is dark, and I can see the trees moving in the moonlight. I turn around to see Dante settle on the couch with some papers while Bryn heads downstairs, so I decide to get some fresh air. As I step outside and walk around, I notice the gate is open. That’s odd; the gate is always closed, but I glance around and only see darkness. I pull the gate and close it. If Knox were here, he would be pissed!

Turning back, I spot the underground bunker door ajar. What the hell is going on?

I see the lights on inside, and curiosity pulls me inside slowly, and trying not to make a noise but failing, I walk down the stairs.

Entering the room, I remember being here with Max and what we did, and I feel my cheeks blushing. Jesus, that day was crazy!

Looking around, everything seems to be just as I remember, but there is a green bag on the floor with paper sticking out. Pulling it out, I turn it; it’s a map of the base, labeled, with room names, surrounding terrain, and some numbers that I don’t recognize.

“What are you doing here?”

He asks with a low growl.

“I saw the door open… thought Dante might be here.”

I stammer and move towards the door, but Ethan grabs my arm, spinning me around and pinning me against the wall. My back presses against his chest as he leans in, trapping me.

“Ethan!”

I snap and thrash against his hold, but he doesn’t move an inch.

“You shouldn’t sneak around, princess. It’s not safe.”

He whispers into my ear as his body presses harder against mine, his dick on my lower back. “Hmm, you smell so good. When are you going to let me have a taste?”

He whispers, his tongue tracing a line along my neck, and my breathing picks up; Cash comes to mind. I will cut Ethan’s throat if he touches me!

“?”

Dante’s calls from upstairs, and Ethan instantly releases me, stepping back, and I let out a shaky breath. My entire body is shaking.

“Go on,”

Ethan says, nodding towards the stairs with a wicked smirk. “We’ll play another time.”

I don’t waste any time, and I rush up the stairs, feeling my stomach turn. I slam into a hard chest and gasp, “Hey, doll, easy,”

he says, steadying me with his hands, his eyes searching my face, concern etched in his expression.

“Did he try anything?”

Dante asks, gripping my shoulders and pulling me back to study me.

“No, he just startled me. I thought you were down there,”

I force a smile.

“What were you doing downstairs?”

His tone sharpens.

“The door was open,”

I explain quickly, just as Ethan emerges from the bunker.

“I was organizing some papers and left the door open. She must’ve been looking for you,”

Ethan says with a shrug, his tone now calm and collected. I frown at the complete shift in his behavior.

“It’s late. We should all get to bed,”

Dante says, and I nod, heading inside, trying to calm myself down.

The cold water helps to ground me as I wash my face; looking in the mirror, I see flashes of the old me, the scared girl that ran that night. I promised myself that would never happen again, but right now I feel like shit.

Entering my room, I close the door and take a deep breath. I’ve been working on it, and it’s almost finished now, with one black accent wall framing the bed, a small desk in the corner, and two drawers for my clothes. There’s no decor yet, but I’ve been drying some flowers that Ryker planted before we even got here and some branches. I want my room to feel like my little haven.

I lay in bed, looking at the ceiling. I still don’t know what Ethan is up to and why it is bothering me so much.

“Oh, Ethan!”

A moan echoes, and I freeze. It’s Bryn, and the sound of their bed frame hitting the wall makes me cringe.

Am I being paranoid about Ethan? Bryn is smart, and she trusts him, right? And I trust her…

I turn to the side to cover my head with a pillow when I hear a knock on the door. I open it to find Dante standing there, shirtless; his muscular tattooed size covers the entire door frame, and I can’t help but take him in. The hawk tattoo covering his chest is massive, stretching the full length, and his abs contracting with each breath. His wet hair drips softly onto his shoulders, and I feel the heat rising up my neck.

“Just came to check if you’re okay. You seem—”

He pauses as Bryn’s moans grow louder. “—stressed.”

“Ethan and Bryn…something feels… off,”

I admit, my eyes searching his.

Dante shrugs lightly. “Well, Ethan’s a little intense. I think since you girls got here, he’s been trying to prove himself.”

“Maybe,”

I murmur, though the unease lingers.

His eyes lock on mine, and his hand comes up, cupping my cheek.

“I promise you’re both safe here,”

he says. I can see his pupils dilating and his gaze darkening as he leans in, brushing his lips against mine.

“You want me to stop?”

he asks, and I shake my head.

His lips crash into mine, and the kiss is demanding and strong, so I part my lips, letting his tongue in, and I moan against him. His strong arms wrap around my waist, and he lifts me like I weigh nothing. I wrap my legs around his hips, and he shuts the door with his foot, making a loud thud echo in the room.

He slams me onto the mattress and immediately pulls my shirt over my head, not giving me time to even process what’s going on and leaving me in just my panties. He towers over me, his eyes so dark I get lost in them.

“Fuck, ,”

he growls. His breathing is fast, and his chest is rising and falling. “You drive me fucking insane.”

I glance at the bulge in his sweatpants, the sharp V-line of his hips making me bite my lip. His body is like that of a damn Greek god.

Heat rushes through me, and without thinking, I part my legs, inviting him to take me like he did weeks ago. Only this time, I want to feel his pierced cock inside me.

“…”

he groans, pulling his sweatpants down. His cock springs free, and I gasp at the sight. The eight piercings along its length glint under the light, and the one at the crown is wet with precum, and I can’t stop myself from wondering—how will it feel? Will it hurt? Or will it make me come faster like the one Knox has?

Sensing my hesitation, he grips the base of it, stroking himself so slowly that I can see every vein, every piercing, every drop of precum, and my tongue darts out to wet my lips.

“I don’t just want to fuck you, doll. I want to mark you — inside and out?”

His words are deep, full of longing, and I can feel myself getting wetter just by looking at him.

Fuck, I’m needy for him!

“Yes, please,”

I whisper, sounding incredibly desperate for him, but I don’t care, not anymore. This is what I want, him, all of him.

He smirks, and I see the fire in his eyes as he lowers himself between my thighs, planting kisses along my sensitive skin and trailing bites until he reaches where I want him the most.

I shiver; my skin feels on fire, and the warmth of his breath makes me breathe faster. He hums, and I feel his fingers on my pussy. All of a sudden I feel him licking me so slowly it sends a jolt through my body, and my back arches off the mattress.

I can’t help but wrap my fingers in his messy hair and pull, making him grunt. He lifts his head to look at me. “You trust me, right?”

He asks, and his eyes lock onto mine, and I see he is no longer the Dante I’ve come to know because right now he looks like the Devil himself, and a shiver runs down my spine.

“Yes,”

I whisper.

“I’m going to show you my favorite kink, doll,”

he says, pulling back from the mattress, and I whimper at the loss of his touch. He reaches into the pocket of the sweatpants that lie on the floor and pulls out a knife; my breath catches, and I snap my legs shut.

“What are you doing?”

I sit up, my heart beating so fast I feel like it’s going to break out, but he looks at me with the darkest eyes I’ve seen on him as he twirls the blade between his fingers, and I feel this heat build inside me.

“Blood play, doll. Wasn’t that in your magazines?”

He says with amusement.

I frown. Is he serious? It was in the magazine, but I never went into it. It’s not something I have any curiosity about… I think… But the fire in his eyes makes me want to test it, to see how far I can go, so I whisper, “Yes…”

“Do you want to try it?”

His eyes travel down my body, and I can feel the heat rolling off him in waves, and despite the fear tightening in my chest, I feel the pulse of heat pooling between my thighs. Do I want to try it?

My lips part, but no words come out. I’m too lost in the fear and expectations, so I just nod, and his smirk widens. It’s predatory, and I feel like I just stepped into a whole new world.

“Open your legs, doll.”

He steps onto the mattress and leans in, giving me teasing kisses up my thighs, and before I have a chance to ask him how this will work, I feel a sharp sting on my skin, followed by a burning sensation, and I gasp, jerking instinctively, but Dante’s hand presses me down, keeping me from moving away.

“Don’t move, ,”

he growls, and the sound sends a shiver straight to my core, then I feel his tongue licking where I feel the sting, and my eyes roll back as I gasp.

I lean forward to see what he is doing. “Dante, did you—”

My words dissolve into a gasp as his tongue slides over my clit, his lips closing around it, and he sucks so slowly that the pleasure overrides everything. My body arches off the bed as I forget what I was going to say.

Another sting. Another cut, and the burning sensation courses straight to my core, and I moan louder, my legs trembling beneath him as his tongue licks the sting before returning to my clit. The mix of sensations is weird but pleasurable at the same time.

“Dante,”

I whisper as my pleasure builds to an unbearable peak. “Did you just cut me?”

“Yes, doll.”

His answer is muffled against me, his warm breath making me shiver even more. He doesn’t stop, his mouth working me with an intensity that borders on worship.

“Every gasp, every drop of blood… it all belongs to me now,”

he murmurs as one of his thick fingers presses against my entrance and my breath catches in my throat, “Your pain is mine. Your pleasure is mine. Let me have it all, doll.”

Oh my God!

I nod, my eyes meeting his, and I see the knife hovering over my stomach as his finger thrusts inside me, and a shudder rolls through my body like a jolt of electricity.

The blade’s tip brushes my skin, and I feel the sharp slide as he drags it in with one swift motion, but I don’t feel pain. It’s something deeper and hotter that makes my head spin and my vision blur with pleasure.

He sets the knife beside me and rubs his fingers over the fresh cut, and my pulse races as I watch him lift them to his lips, smearing the blood across them before hovering over me and crashing his mouth to mine.

The metallic taste mixes with his tongue, and I moan into the kiss, my legs falling open for him.

His hand moves lower, aligning his pierced hard cock with my wet entrance, and my heart beats faster.

I dig my nails into his chest, and he smirks, making him look like the damn Devil himself, and I gasp as he presses the tip in.

The piercings on his cock hit every inch inside my walls, one by one, igniting nerve endings I didn’t know existed.

He moves torturously slow, forcing me to feel every inch of his thick cock and feel myself stretching, the pain and pleasure making me moan, but he crashes his lips to mine and swallows them all.

Oh my fucking…

I open my eyes as he breaks the kiss and backs away, grabbing the knife again that rests next to us on the mattress, a drop of blood at its tip.

Dante lifts the corner of his lip in a half smile, his eyes dark as the night, and without a warning, I feel the cold steel pressing against my neck, just enough to feel like a small needle is piercing my skin.

He doesn’t cut me, but the threat lingers in the air, and it heightens every sensation as his hips begin to move.

The combination of fear and pleasure sets my skin on fire; the friction of his piercing-covered cock is driving me insane.

I claw at his chest, realizing I’m cutting his skin, but Dante just smiles and continues to thrust harder.

The knife shifts slightly under his hand, and the tension coils tighter in my stomach. “You’re so fucking perfect, doll,”

he growls, his voice rough, his thrusts deepening.

My body begins to unravel.

The sensations are overwhelming, his hands, his cock, the taste of blood still lingering on my tongue— all of it consumes me.

He owns me, my body and my mind, and just as I reach the edge, he makes a shallow cut near my collarbone, and the release crashes over me like a lightning storm.

“Dante!”

I scream, my body convulsing as pleasure explodes through every nerve.

My legs tremble, my back arches, and I lose control completely.

My vision is a blur.

“Fuck, ,”

he groans, his tone strained as his release follows. I feel his entire body tensing, and he stops breathing as he thrusts deep one last time, his cock pulsing inside me, and I can still feel the warmth of his cum.

He tilts his head back, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he catches his breath, his hands braced on either side of me. “You are so fucking intense, doll,”

he mutters, looking down at me with a smirk that’s both proud and ravenous, and I take a deep breath, my eyes roaming over his body while he is still inside me, his abs contracting as he breathes, little drops of sweat on his chest where my nails left bruises.

Reaching for the knife, he sets it aside before leaning over to inspect the cut on my collarbone. “Let me clean that up.”

He leans in, and his tongue trails over the wound, licking the blood that drips down to my chest, and he lets out a low, guttural groan that sends another shiver through me.

“Your blood tastes like sunlight,”

he murmurs against my skin, and I tilt my head, surrendering to him completely.