Page 38 of Revenge Saints (BloodHawks Duet #2)

I stand in front of the mirror.

I look like shit, but I can move again, and every day I feel a little stronger.

I turn. He’s leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed, that smug-ass smirk on his face.

“I should go too.”

He lifts a brow. “We got this. We’ll bring Josh and his family to the farm safe.”

His gaze drops to my shoulder, still wrapped in gauze and bandages.

“Don’t push it too much.”

I chuckle. “Don’t worry. I won’t.”

He grins. “Doubt that.”

He turns, glancing down the hallway, and I follow, stepping up behind him.

Fuck me.

Aspen is kneeling on the floor, scrubbing the last of the blood from the wood beside Ryker. Her top’s short, her shorts shorter, every curve of her body catching the light. Her hair’s a mess.

Behind me, a sharp voice cuts through the moment.

“No sex.”

I glance back; Sean, arms folded, giving me the doctor glare.

My lips twitch. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

My cock twitches anyway.

Sean huffs. “If you do, try not to tear the stitches, yeah?”

“Ready, Doc?” Dante speaks from the stairs. “Ryker, let’s go.”

Ryker kisses Aspen quickly, eyes linger, and walks past me with a nod.

“Behave, Reaper,” Dante mutters, and I grin.

I’m getting the whole base to myself… and Aspen.

And I can finally move without blacking out or feeling like my stomach being torn in two.

Oh yeah.

I’ll definitely behave .

I head up the stairs after them.

“You three be careful,” I say.

“We’ll check if the radios work.” Max hands me one, a sleek, newer model. He rigged it to the solar panels in storage. Better range. More stable. If they head to town or back to the farm, we’ll stay connected.

They head out, and I lock the gate behind them.

Sean’s going with them.

They’re taking him to the barn at the farm. Josh has a kid, and having a doctor around is the smartest thing we could’ve done. It’s close enough, and if we need him again… he’ll come.

“You think the family will be safe?” She comes from behind me.

I turn, wrap my arm around her waist, drag her against my side.

“Dante and Max took some of the solar panels and a backup battery. The windows are reinforced. There are traps around the perimeter. No one’s getting in without losing a leg or worse.”

She nods and rests her forehead on my chest.

I lean down, breathing her in.

Home. My fucking home.

“How are you feeling?” I murmur.

She’s pale. Her body is still recovering from all the blood she gave me. Sean warned her to rest, eat, stay still, but she didn’t listen. She’s been scrubbing this place like she could erase the war with a sponge.

The guys helped. Between all of them, the base almost looks like it did before.

There’s still shit to fix, walls to patch, and holes to cover. I burned my old mattress.

There was no fucking way I was going to sleep where Roman fucked Bryn.

“I still think Sean should’ve stayed here with us,” she murmurs as we walk into the living room.

I nod but don’t say anything. I drop onto the couch with a grunt, leaning back, legs spread wide, the weight of the last few weeks still hitting me.

Everything aches, but it’s the kind of ache that tells me I’m still fucking alive.

I let out a breath and glance toward her. “Well, pet… we all want to fuck the brains out of you, and having Sean here would’ve made that a little complicated,”

A boot kicks the side of mine, hard enough to jolt me, and I look up, cocking a brow.

She’s standing between my legs now. Hands on her hips and head tilted, that glare could cut through bone.

“Not everything has to do with sex, Knox.” She snaps, tension in her shoulders as her eyes move to my lips.

“True.” I shrug. “But it’s been ten years. We’ve got a lot of lost time to recover.”

Her eyes narrow. “You’re impossible.”

“I’m joking.” I tilt my head. “Mostly.”

She rolls her eyes, but I see the corner of her mouth twitch like she’s fighting a smile.

I lean forward, elbows on my knees, fingers dangling near her bare thighs .

“Sean’s been in communities since the plague. None of them by choice. He asked for a place where he could be alone… free. Somewhere he could live his life, not just survive under someone else’s rules.”

Her arms drop slowly. “Oh.” She softens. “I didn’t know that.”

“He’s earned that peace.” My fingers brush the outside of her thigh, feather-light. I watch as goosebumps chase my touch. “At the farm, he gets space. He can help Josh when needed. And still… breathe.”

She nods, biting her lip.

“I’d love to meet them,” she says gently.

And fuck me, that smile… It could level cities.

“You will, I promise. It’ll be good for you, having another woman around—”

Her head jerks up, and she laughs. “That didn’t go well last time, did it?”

The words hit me like a slap made of truth. My hand stills on her thigh.

I look up, studying her expression, that brave little smile she puts on when something still hurts.

“How are you dealing with that?”

Her gaze drops to my heart, and I see the hesitation in her lashes, the war in her chest.

“I had to do it,” she whispers. “It was her or you. And I’ll always choose you, Knox.”

I don’t think. I just move.

My hand clamps around her thigh, fingers tightening .

Her breath stutters, her pulse jumping under her skin.

“We can’t,” she says quickly, slapping my hand.

She turns and tries to walk away.

But I’m up before she makes it two steps.

I grab her by the neck and slam her gently but firmly back to my chest, her spine flush against me.

My mouth dips to her ear. “We can,” I growl, “and we fucking will, pet.”

My fingers grip her slender throat tighter.

“But Sean said,”

“I don’t give a fuck what Sean said.” My teeth sink into her neck, and she whimpers, her legs twitching. “Just don’t grab my side.”

My hand moves down, sliding under the hem of her tiny shorts.

Two fingers, twist , and the button pops, and I slide the zipper down.

She gasps as I trace the inside of her hip, every nerve under my fingertips.

Then I feel it.

Her cunt, fucking warm, soft, soaked.

“Already wet,” I whisper, pressing my thumb against her clit. She shivers, her moan barely held back. “You missed me, didn’t you?”

She nods, her body limp against mine, breath catching in her throat.

“You thought I’d die and leave you,” I murmur against her ear, biting the shell gently. “But here I am. Alive. Hard. And fucking starving for you. ”

She whimpers, and I grin, my fingers dragging through that soaked heat that makes my cock fucking throb. Her moan cracks, and she rolls her hips.

I shove her panties down, hoisting her onto the couch, ripping at my sweats. My side strains, pain biting into the wound, but I don’t give a shit. I press her knees apart, bracing myself,

“Knox, wait, your stitches,” she gasps, her hand reaching for my chest.

“Fuck the stitches,” I growl. “I need to be inside you now.”

I grip her thighs. Pain spikes from the side of my stomach, sharp enough to make me stumble forward.

She catches me, both hands on my chest.

Her voice shatters the fog.

“Cherry.”

My whole body jerks like she hit me with a stun gun.

I freeze. Breathing raggedly. Hands in the air. My cock pulses, desperate. But her eyes, fuck, her eyes.

I pull back, panting. “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” she says firmly. “You’re hurting yourself.”

She cups my face, her palms warm, fingers trembling.

“I can’t let you do that. Not for sex. Not for me. You’re not healed yet, Knox . ”

I stare at her, throat dry.

“What am I supposed to do, huh?” The question is rough, almost broken. “Just sit here when my entire body screams for you? I should pretend I don’t want to take you?”

She tilts her head, eyes narrowing with something… different .

Power.

“You don’t have to take anything tonight,” she whispers. “I’m giving it to you.”

She steps back, and I stand in front of her.

“Turn around.”

I blink. “What?”

“Turn. Around.”

I scowl. “Fuck no.”

She steps closer. “You don’t trust me?”

That hits deeper than it should.

I clench my jaw, chest heaving, every muscle in my body screaming to stay in control. But the look on her face… It’s not playful, it’s not a game, it’s the same face I saw when she ran after us. When she killed for me.

It’s everything.

Reluctantly, I turn. Her hands move quick, winding a strip of torn bedsheet around my wrists, binding me tight.

I test it, growling under my breath. “This is fucking insane.”

“Sit.”

I hesitate.

“Sit, Reaper.”

My knees give, and I drop onto the couch slowly. She didn’t tie me too hard.

She steps into my lap, straddling, leaning in, pressing her lips to mine, her hands running over my chest. “You don’t always have to bleed to prove something, Knox.”

She sinks down slowly, achingly slow, and I swear the world fucking shatters.

Every piercing on my cock drags through her entrance like it was made for her alone. The stretch. The slide. The feel of her soft, warm walls clenching around me.

She was sculpted to take all of me.

“Fuck, pet…” I hiss, head dropping back, fists flexing against the fabric binding my wrists. “You’re going to kill me.”

She lowers until I’m buried to the hilt, her body tight, trembling, holding me like a goddamn vice.

Her hands grab the tops of my thighs, fingers digging into muscle, keeping her weight steady, careful not to press on my injured side. My jaw locks. My vision blurs.

She starts to move, slow rolls of her hips that make my cock twitch inside her.

“Look at me,” I growl, and her eyes meet mine instantly.

There’s heat there, but there’s also love.

“I need to touch you.”

“No.” She shakes her head, hips rocking again, the drag of her hole squeezing me like a heartbeat. “You need to heal.”

“Fuck healing,” I groan. “I need you.”

“You have me.” She leans forward, brushing her lips over mine, teasing. Then she slides back again, and I almost lose my goddamn mind.

I snap my hips up. Her mouth drops open, a moan escaping, her body clenching harder .

“That’s it,” I grunt. “Ride me, pet. I want to feel every goddamn pulse of that pretty cunt when you come.”