Page 31 of Revenge Saints (BloodHawks Duet #2)

I watch as Dante collapses over her, breathless, twitching. Her body’s still trembling, pussy still full of him, and it takes every fucking ounce of control not to rip him off her and bury myself inside her so deep she forgets he ever touched her.

I glance around. Max and Ryker are both standing in silence, but it’s a tight silence. Fists clenched. We’re all on the edge of something brutal and ugly and fucking beautiful.

Dante finally moves.

“Fill the bathtub,” he says to Max.

Max nods and bolts.

We don’t have running water, so that means buckets from the well. Ryker follows without needing to be told.

I stay.

Dante looks down at her. “You okay, Aspen?”

She doesn’t open her eyes. Just lies there, tits moving up and down.

“I lost control,” he murmurs.

She cracks one eye open and smirks. “I don’t care.” Then pulls him down and kisses him like he didn’t just break her.

Dante pulls back and looks at me.

He knows I’m watching.

“Are you okay, man?” I snort and slap his back hard enough to leave a mark. “You look like you just ran through hell barefoot.”

“Yeah… fuck,” he mutters. His eyes drift to her again, and I see it, the pride and possession .

She sits up as he stands, messy, flushed, glowing, and that proud little smirk is back on her lips.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Dante mutters.

She bites her bottom lip.

“Oh, fuck no,” I mutter, grabbing Dante by the back of the neck and shoving him toward the door. “Keep teasing him, pet, and you won’t be walking tomorrow.”

She grins.

Little brat.

We leave her in the room, and Max calls from the back. “Her bath is ready.”

Dante grabs his jeans off the couch .

“Sorry, man. I lost it. I had to have her.”

I look at him.

“Sorry for what?” I snort. “For fucking our girl so hard she forgot her name?”

He laughs.

But the truth is my cock hurts. I was inside her for barely a few minutes, just enough to tease her, and now I’m sitting here, hard as stone, blood pounding through me like I just ran a mile with a loaded pack.

She’s still too wrecked for another round, I know that, but my body doesn’t give a shit.

I drop onto the couch and rub my face, trying to pull back the instinct to storm back in there and take her again.

It’s almost dark.

Tomorrow, by this time, we’ll be knee-deep in blood and bodies, luring Roman’s men out and picking them off one by one, and I need to pull myself the fuck together.

Max and Ryker walk into the room, both shirtless, damp with sweat, and they look just as fucked up as I feel. Max drops onto the other couch. Ryker sprawls beside him, legs open, chest still heaving.

“Shit,” Ryker mutters. “That was…”

“Intense,” Max finishes.

I glance down; they’re still hard, and so am I.

No one says it out loud, but the room aches with unfinished business.

Dante’s on his feet, wiping sweat off his face with a damp cloth, when he stops cold. “Fuck,” he mutters .

Aspen steps into the room, water still clinging to her skin, steam rising from her like a ghost of the bath she left behind. She’s completely bare, dripping, glistening, her hair slicked back, cheeks flushed, and not a single ounce of shyness in the way she stands.

Droplets trace over the curve of her breasts, slide down her stomach, then disappear between her thighs. She’s a vision, wild and soft, all at once, and fuck, she knows exactly what she’s doing.

My jaw tightens, throat thickens, and for a second, no one moves. Not a breath, not a blink. Just the sound of water hitting the floor and hearts beating like war drums.

We watch her.

Still. Silent. Barely holding on.

She wouldn’t—

Right?

Her eyes scan the room, lips curling into a smirk that does nothing to soothe my pulse. Then she walks toward Max, hips swaying.

She kicks his legs apart.

And he fucking obeys.

She drops between them, kneels, unzips his jeans with slow, teasing fingers.

“Fuck, sweetheart, what are you doing?” Max grits out, his hands clenching the couch cushions.

She doesn’t answer.

She just pulls his cock free, already thick and hard, and straddles him in one smooth motion .

“Fuuuuccckk,” Max groans as her heat swallows him whole. His hands snap to her hips, holding her still.

Aspen shivers.

Then she starts rolling her hips, slow, taunting; she’s savoring the stretch.

Max chokes on a breath, grinding up into her. “Aren’t you sore, sweetheart?” he pants.

She moans.

“No… I need more.”

God-fucking-damn.

My cock throbs against my jeans, screaming for release. Fucking brat . She knows exactly what she’s doing. And I’m seconds from grabbing her off Max and reminding her who she’s still begging for.

She turns her head to Ryker.

He’s palming himself through his jeans, lips parted, eyes locked on the way Max disappears inside her with every bounce.

“Want to join us?” she purrs.

And Ryker fucking moves; he bolts out of the room and returns seconds later. Shirt gone, sweatpants already shoved low, bottle of oil in hand.

He slicks himself with quick, rough strokes. His cock gleams in the low light, already twitching.

And I’m still sitting here.

Jaw tight.

Cock hard.

Blood boiling.

I’m not going to last much longer, and she fucking knows it .

Ryker’s cock is slick with oil, his hand wrapped tight around the base as he steps behind her.

Aspen’s still riding Max, hips rolling, chest rising fast, moaning like she’s already on the edge again.

Then she feels Ryker’s fingers on her ass, and her whole body shivers.

I stand.

I can’t sit still anymore.

I walk over and drop down beside Max, close enough to see every twitch of her muscles, every shaky breath she fights to take.

Her eyes dart to me; she’s fucking glowing.

I rest a hand on her thigh.

“You remember this, pet?”

She nods, breathless.

“Dante and I? The night we fucked you together?”

She moans, back arching slightly as Ryker spreads her open with one hand and lines himself up.

“You loved it,” I murmur. “You took us so well. You can do it again.”

Ryker hesitates, waiting.

“She needs you slow,” I tell him. “But deep. Don’t stop unless she says the word.”

He nods.

I shift closer, my palm sliding up her belly, grounding her.

“Breathe with me,” I whisper against her neck. “In through your nose. Good girl. Out slow.”

She follows. Her body relaxes .

Ryker presses in, inch by inch, and she cries out, clutching Max’s shoulders. Max strokes her hips, whispering filth and praise against her throat.

I keep my hand steady on her stomach, fingers splayed over her ribs, feeling her tremble under both of them.

“Good girl,” I growl. “You’re taking him so fucking well.”

When Ryker’s buried to the hilt, Aspen moans, and her body shudders between them.

I move back just a little, watching her adjust, watching the way she clenches around both of them, filled so deep she’s shaking.

Then she lifts her gaze to mine, eyes glassy and unfocused, lips parted like she’s still catching her breath. There’s a flush high on her cheeks, something soft and dangerous in her expression, and then she licks her lips. Slow. Deliberate. Like she knows exactly what it does to me.

Her voice is wrecked but clear: “Knox… I want your cock in my mouth.”

Fuck .

Every muscle in me tightens. My cock twitches.

I slide off the couch, standing in front of her. Her head tips back, her lips already parted.

“Open wide, pet,” I murmur, undoing my belt. “You’re going to make me lose control.”

And she smiles, so proud of herself.

I drag my cock from my jeans, aching to be inside her. I plant one foot on the couch beside Max’s leg and grip her hair as she opens for me, so eager, obedient, and fucking beautiful .

Her lips wrap around me, and I groan. It rips from my chest. Raw, guttural, barely human.

Fuck.

Her mouth is hot, and she moves her tongue with an expertise that makes me forget she barely had any experience before falling into our trap. The piercings slide over her lips, and I watch them disappear.

I look down and see her body still shaking, full of Max and Ryker, both pounding into her, almost burying themselves inside her for good.

Ryker’s rhythm turns brutal. His hands grip her waist, his shoulders tense, and the veins in his neck pop as he fucks into her tight little ass.

Max isn’t far behind. He thrusts up into her soaked slit, matching Ryker’s pace, sweat pouring down his chest as he groans.

And she’s still sucking me, but I want more.

I need to bury myself inside her cunt.

She moans around me, the sound vibrating through my cock, and my muscles tighten. My hand fists in her hair, pulling harder. She winces but doesn’t stop.

I yank her mouth off me, panting.

“You want me to come on your throat?”

She gasps; lips slick. Her eyes flick up to mine.

And then she whispers,

“No.” It’s soft. Barely there, but it lands like a punch.

My chest goes tight and my jaw locks .

I step back immediately.

Don’t argue.

Don’t speak.

I just… move.

Because no means no. It always will, but fuck, it cuts. She didn’t say it to Ryker. To Max or Dante. She said it to me.

I push the thought down, shove it deep where I keep all the other shit I don’t deal with, and force myself to look up.

Ryker’s head snaps back.

“Fuck, Aspen!” he chokes out, his hips slamming forward one last time as he comes hard inside her. His entire body locks, face contorted, muscles jerking. He pulls out slow, cock still twitching.

She gasps, overwhelmed.

Then Max thrusts up hard, hands gripping her thighs.

“Sweetheart,” he groans, “I’m, fuck—”

She moans again, and Max groans louder as he spills into her, his head falling back against the couch, chest rising in jagged, frantic breaths.

She collapses forward, caught between them, trembling, drenched in sweat and cum, lips parted, eyes half-lidded.

She’s wrecked, they’re spent, and I’m still fucking hard.

I tuck myself back into my jeans, saying nothing. No one notices. No one sees the way my fingers curl into fists, how my jaw grinds as I walk toward the door without looking back.