Page 7 of Ravaged Saints (BloodHawks Duet #1)

I asked that fucker to keep it in his pants, but of course, Ethan never listens. He thinks with his dick—always has, always will.

“You heard it?”

I ask Knox, standing at the top of the stairs.

“Yeah,”

he sighs, shaking his head.

It’s not that I don’t want to fuck them—especially Aspen—but things are still tense after her attempted escape a week ago.

We need them to feel safe here and to understand that even though we’re men who haven’t touched a woman in years, we’re not fucking animals.

“What now?”

I climb the rest of the stairs to stand beside Knox.

“She seemed to be enjoying it,”

he says, walking toward the couch. “If she wants him to fuck her, let him. They’re both adults, and Bryn’s a hell of a lot more open to intimacy than Aspen.”

He shrugs like it’s no big deal.

“True.”

I grab a couple of drinks. “Aspen would rather burn this place to the ground than let us touch her.”

And that’s a shame because I like them bratty. I like the fight in her eyes, and I can already imagine her between me and Ryker, him shoving his dick inside her mouth while I fuck her cunt, or better, he fucks her cunt while I fuck his ass.

That thought makes my cock twitch, and I shift on the couch, needing more room to adjust.

“Hey, where’s Bryn?”

Speak of the devil. Ryker strolls in, his jet-black hair a complete mess. He’s sweating and shirtless and moving like a serpent, his lean, toned body effortlessly fluid. Fuck, he’s gorgeous.

“Downstairs, fucking Ethan,”

Knox says casually, and Ryker nearly stumbles.

“She is what?”

He whispers like he’s afraid Ethan and Bryn will somehow hear him. “I thought you said we couldn’t touch them!”

“You couldn’t, but Bryn’s up for it with Ethan, so she’s fair game.”

Knox doesn’t even look bothered. He picks up the remote and puts on Five Finger Punch blasting on the speaker. “Aspen, though, she’s still off-limits,”

he finishes, leaning back on the couch and locking eyes with Ryker.

“Fine by me,”

Ryker chuckles.

Knox looks at me, fully aware I’m pissed.

Ryker follows Knox’s gaze to me, his eyes widening as he catches on. I smirk.

“I’m going to check on Aspen.”

I get up and start walking toward the stairs.

“, wait up, man.”

Ryker moves quickly, following me as I go down.

“Listen, I…”

he starts, but his words are cut off when Bryn and Ethan emerge from the bathroom.

They took their time cleaning up, but Ethan’s smug grin tells us everything we need to know.

“I’m going to help make dinner for Aspen,”

Bryn says with a soft smile, her damp hair dripping small drops onto her shirt, and I can see the lust in Ryker’s eyes.

Ethan follows right behind her, his hand resting on the small of her back, and he nods at us without a word.

“Fucker,”

I murmur under my breath as I unlock Aspen’s bedroom door.

When I step inside, she jumps onto the bed; her breathing is ragged, and her cheeks are flushed.

“Are you okay?”

I ask, walking in closer.

As I approach, she flinches, and I freeze and curse under my breath. I still forget she gets triggered when we move too fast around her. “Fuck, sorry, I just wanted to check if you’re hot… feverish, I mean.”

“I’m fine,”

she brushes me off, shifting back toward the headboard to avoid my touch.

I narrow my eyes. What the fuck is going on? What was she doing?

“Maybe we can crack the window open a bit and get some fresh air in,”

Ryker says, moving to the small hopper window. It’s too small for anyone to escape, and Aspen’s too short to even reach it.

As he leans forward to open it, he exposes his toned abs and the sharp V. His jeans sit low, just barely clinging to him, and for a second, her gaze betrays her, and she looks at him, her eyes tracing the line of his chest down to his belt. Then it happens; she softly bites on her bottom lip.

It’s quick, and she almost immediately turns her face away, but I catch it.

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe Miss Don’t Ever Touch Me might be into something else.

Ryker’s eyes are on me. “What?”

he asks with a smirk.

“Nothing.”

I step closer to the bed, my gaze trailing down Aspen’s body and stopping at her full breasts.

She’s wearing a tight green shirt and cargo pants that are too big for her.

Her hair is thrown up in a messy bun, and I run my tongue over my lips as my eyes lock with hers, and I catch Ryker frowning from the corner of my vision.

But Aspen doesn’t look away. Her eyes hold mine, and I see her pupils dilate. Fuck, she wants me? Or am I losing my shit?

“I’ll bring you dinner,”

Ryker mutters, heading for the door. He stops, holding it open for me, his posture stiff, his jaw clenched tight. The tension in his movements tells me everything—I can feel the jealousy radiating off him. Too bad.

The door barely clicks shut before Ryker shoves me against the wall, caging me in with his arms.

“What the fuck was that?”

Fucking submissive thinks he can overpower me? I grab his arm and twist it sharply.

He lets out a low grunt of pain, but before he can react, I spin him around and pin his arms behind his back, forcing his chest against the wall.

My front presses into him, holding him in place.

“Behave, pet,”

I whisper into his ear. He shivers, and I feel the tremor ripple through his lean, fit body. My cock presses against his back, and I know he feels it.

“We can’t touch her,”

he snaps, his voice strained. “You heard Knox.”

I laugh, pressing him harder against the wall. “And I didn’t touch her. I was testing her.”

I say with amusement.

Ryker squirms, but he doesn’t fight me off—he knows better.

He’s fast, lean, and could probably run a marathon without breaking a sweat, but when it comes to body-on-body, I’ve got the upper hand.

He knows it, and fuck, he loves it. Loves how I can handle him, bend him, pin him down—and there’s not a damn thing he can do about it.

“If you can drool over Bryn, I think it’s only fair that I do the same.”

I kiss his neck, and he lets out a small moan.

“I wasn’t—”

He stops, trying to shake me off him. “I just think she is hot; that doesn’t mean I want her.”

“And Aspen?”

I twist his arm, and he whimpers, his breathing coming in short, ragged breaths. “Can you imagine her with us? You fucking her cunt while I fuck you?”

I press my hard cock into him even more.

“Fuck .”

He leans his head against the cool wall, his face a deep red.

I chuckle and release him, pushing myself off him. “That’s what I thought.”

“Fine, Aspen then.”

He pushes off the wall, turning to face me while massaging his arm. “You think she would be into it?”

I shrug, “I have no fucking idea, but I will find out.”

Ryker chuckles and shakes his head. “I’m going to take an icy cold shower!”

I nod and head upstairs.

Knox and Ethan are outside, while Bryn is in the kitchen with Dante.

She’s stirring something in a pot, and he’s cutting meat with the ease of a man who’s done it a thousand times.

Dante’s usually our chef—he enjoys it and is damn good at it, unlike the rest of us.

We have a small electric stove with two burners, enough since we grill most of our meat and fish outside.

The stove runs on power from our generators, connected to both wind turbines and solar panels.

These systems keep the house running and store extra energy for the nights.

“Bryn,”

I call, and her head snaps up, surprise flickering across her face. “Get a lemon for the meat,”

I say, nodding toward the tree outside. She wipes her hands on a towel and hurries out the door. I chuckle at how quick she is to follow orders.

Leaning against the counter, I cross my arms. “Aspen was flustered when Ryker and I walked into her room.”

Dante tilts his head, his knife pausing mid-cut. “She did the same when she told me about her infected wound.”

Interesting.

“She also nearly drooled over Ryker when he opened the window for her,”

I add, my tone dropping low, my gaze narrowing as I watch her reaction.

Dante smirks, sliding the sliced meat onto a plate. “Did she now?”

“She tried to hide it, but when she caught me looking at her breast, I swear her pupils dilated.”

Dante chuckles, his smirk widening. “So, our fiery doll is softening up, huh? Let’s test that theory.”

He picks up the tray of food and water and gestures for me to follow.

We reach her door, and Dante knocks lightly before stepping in. The sound of hurried movement greets us, and when we walk in, Aspen is sitting on the bed, her cheeks flushed like before.

“Dinner, doll,”

Dante says, setting the tray on the dresser.

Her chest rises and falls quickly as her eyes dart between us, and I catch the subtle tension in her throat as she swallows.

“I need to check that cut,”

Dante says, kneeling next to the bed. She stiffens slightly but nods. She moves closer, and he lifts her shirt just enough to inspect her side, his fingers brushing deliberately against her bare skin.

Her breath hitches, and that’s when I notice the tattoo on her hip—unexpected. A butterfly, black with shades of red, but not a normal one; in one of the wings, there is a skull.

Not the type of tattoo I was expecting to see on Aspen.

“See, ? Almost healed,”

Dante says smoothly, but his eyes glint with something darker.

I step closer, moving to her left, boxing her in between Dante and the bed. Her eyes flick to me, wide and uncertain.

“That’s good,”

I murmur, her eyes following my every move.

I reach for another small cut along her arm, my fingers grazing her skin as I lean in close, my lips near her ear. “And this one, sweetheart?”

I whisper. “Does it hurt?”

I press my thumb gently against the cut.

Her breathing quickens, a rosy blush creeping up her neck. “No…”

she whispers, barely audible, and her eyes lift to mine, wide and dark, and I see the way they flick to my lips.

“Do you want to kiss him, doll?”

Dante’s tone is calm, almost soothing, but there’s an edge to it that I know too damn well. The fucker is playing with fire.

She doesn’t answer with words, but her gaze stays locked on my mouth, her lips parting slightly as if in invitation, and I don’t hesitate.

I lean in, brushing my lips softly against hers, and she exhales sharply, her breath warm against my mouth. Dante’s hand comes up to her hair, his fingers threading through it as he tilts her head, guiding her closer to me.

Her lips press against mine, and I part them slightly, my tongue flicking out to taste her. She shivers under my touch, her body trembling as Dante pushes her head further into me.

“Open your lips, Aspen,”

Dante commands, his tone rough.

She obeys, and I press my tongue into her mouth, teasing her, tasting her. Her lips are soft, her tongue hesitant but responsive, and my eyes stay on her face, watching the way her lashes flutter closed, the way her breath catches in her throat.

Her hand moves tentatively to my chest, resting there lightly, and when a quiet moan escapes her lips, I deepen the kiss, sliding my tongue against hers.

“That’s it, doll,”

Dante murmurs from beside her, dripping with approval. “Let show you how good he can make you feel.”

Her body leans into mine, her defenses slipping away. Dante’s fingers caress her hair. His touch is gentle but possessive, as he stays kneeling beside her. Aspen stands between his legs, her face turned toward me, surrendering to the moment, caught between us.

I break the kiss, her eyes still shut like she’s savoring every second. “Fuck, Aspen,”

I murmur, low and thick.

Her lashes lift, heavy with desire, and I feel the heat radiating off her skin like a flame daring me to get burned.

I take one step back. My cock is hard, and seeing her like this takes all of my control not to snap and throw her into the mattress.

“Did you enjoy it?”

Dante’s voice cuts in, smooth and confident. Her gaze shifts to him, and the little vixen lets her eyes linger on his lips.

He smirks, and it’s the kind of smirk that promises sin. “Want to give me a try?”

His tone is calm, almost teasing, but there’s an edge of dominance only Dante can pull off so effortlessly.

Aspen runs a finger across her lips, eyes locked on him, unblinking.

Slowly, she reaches out, tracing that same finger over his mouth, pressing lightly until his lips part beneath her touch.

She doesn’t stop. Her fingertip teases the curve of his lower lip, lingering, exploring, and when his tongue flicks out, tasting her skin, a slow, wicked smile tugs at her lips. Fucking vixen, she’s not as innocent as she made us believe!

Dante moves, one hand sliding behind her head, fingers tangling in her hair, tilting her just how he wants.

The other drags down, curling around her waist, his splayed fingers pressing into the small of her back—holding her there, right against him.

Even kneeling, Dante’s sheer size makes her look small.

She leans down, and I step back, letting the show play out in front of me.

Her head dips, and Dante moves up, claiming her mouth like he owns it, his grip on her head firm. He’s testing her—seeing how she handles the roughness, the demand.

“Dante,”

she breathes against his lips, and that one word is enough to make him stand, rising to his full, towering six-five.

Her neck arches, her body tilting to keep up with him, but she doesn’t pull away.

She’s matching him, inch for inch, and it’s driving me insane.

Their tongues tangle, a battle for control, and then she moans—a sound so soft yet loud enough to make me want to grab her back.

Her hands slide lower, skimming his jeans, dangerously close to grabbing his ass.

Fuck.

Dante’s hand tightens in her hair, angling her head; his other hand slides down, grabbing a fistful of her ass like it’s his for the taking, and she gasps into his mouth, the sound swallowed by the force of his kiss.

Dante pulls her head back, breaking the kiss with a deliberate slowness that feels more like a tease. His lips curve into a dangerous smile. “We need to stop, doll, or I won’t be able to fight the urge to fuck you.”

Aspen pushes him away, and he lets her, stepping back without resistance, even though the fire in his eyes hasn’t dimmed. “You both should leave,”

she says, eyes heavy, but there isn’t any regret in her eyes.

Dante nods as he cracks his neck. “Eat,”

he orders, gesturing to the tray.

Without another word, we step out of the room, locking the door into place behind us.

“Fuck, Grit!”

I exhale sharply, the tension in my body coiled so tight it hurts, and my cock is throbbing, screaming for release behind my zipper, but I have to ignore it.

Dante chuckles, low and dark. “That went better than I expected.”

He licks his lips slowly, savoring the taste of her, and I know it’s still there, just like it’s still on mine.

“Knox is going to enjoy this new development,”

I say, half joking but fully aware of how this is about to unravel.

Dante smirks, the devil in his expression as we head upstairs, leaving the temptation locked behind that door.

For now.