Page 40 of Revenge Saints (BloodHawks Duet #2)

Dante

R oman died days after we brought Knox to the cave.

Summer came.

We rebuilt the base. Reinforced the walls. Cleaned the blood, the bones, the past. Knox changed rooms, burned the mattresses Bryn tainted.

And now?

Winter’s arriving.

The first snow starts to fall as Knox and Max return just past sundown. Their boots hit the ground heavily. Their bags slung low. Dirt and ash on their hands. But they’re alive. They came home.

“How was it?” I ask, pushing off the wall. I already know something’s wrong before either of them speaks. It’s in the way Knox’s jaw ticks; in the way Max doesn’t smile.

Knox drops his gear. “Rough run-in.”

“With whom?” My arms cross tight. My pulse climbs.

Max lifts a brow. “Remember those bastards with the skull and snake logo on their jackets?”

I nod slowly. “Roman’s crew?”

Knox grunts. “Apparently not.”

I step closer. “They weren’t his?”

“No,” Max says. “Separate. They knew who we were, though. One of them called us BloodHawks.”

That chills me deeper than it should.

“Think they’ll be a problem?” I glance toward the hall; ears perked for any sound from Aspen in the showers.

“If they are,” Knox mutters, pulling off his shirt, “we’ll bury them next.”

Max doesn’t answer. He doesn’t need to.

Ryker walks in with that grin he only saves for Max. He leans in and kisses him roughly.

“Where’s Aspen?” Max asks, already tugging at his boots.

“Showers,” I say.

Knox raises a brow, his face lighting with something wicked. “You know… we’ve got a whole fucking big shower in this base, and we haven’t fucked her in it yet.”

I smirk because he’s not wrong .

But as I trail behind them, toward warmth, water, and her, I can’t shake the feeling crawling beneath my skin.

We step into the shower. Aspen stands under the stream, water sliding down the curve of her back. We strip in silence, watching, waiting for the moment she realizes she’s not alone. That we’re here. For her. To take her.

She turns off the tap and spins, unaware she has company. One step and her eyes snap up. We’re in front of her, naked, hard.

Aspen gasps, then lets out a breathless giggle before twisting back toward the water, a teasing little escape, but Knox is faster; he grabs the back of her neck and slams her chest against the cold tile.

“Knox,” she whimpers, breath catching. He doesn’t respond. Just kicks her legs apart, claiming her.

I move beside them, fingers tracing down her spine to the curve of her ass. I slap her left cheek, and it blooms red instantly. Perfect. I grin.

My hand dips lower; she’s already soaked, and I slide a finger in. She rises on her toes with a moan. I start to work her, thrusting in and out.

Knox meets my eyes. Then his fingers join mine. We thrust into her together, filling her, stretching her.

“Oh God,” she gasps, head snapping back, nipples flattened against the wall.

I lean in, biting her ear. “Not yet, doll,” I whisper, and we both pull out. She lets out a shaky breath, her forehead resting against the tile .

“You’re going to be so full of our cum.” Knox growls, thick with hunger. “You’ll be dripping for days.”

Behind me, I hear movement. Ryker and Max step in, cocks hard, eyes locked on our girl. Max reaches down, wraps his fist around Ryker’s length, and strokes him, slow and possessive. Ryker groans, but his gaze never wavers from Aspen.

Knox spins her to face them. “On your knees, pet.”

She drops immediately.

Her eyes flick to Max, still pumping Ryker in his fist. Her lips part. She knows what’s coming.

Knox kneels behind her, pressing his wide hand on her back until she’s on all fours. He lines up, and I watch every one of his piercings disappear into her soaked heat.

“Fuucckk,” Knox groans as he slides in, the sound raw, almost pained with how tight she is.

Ryker moves closer, kneeling in front of her. “Open your mouth, Aspen.”

She lifts her gaze, breathless, and parts her lips, still trembling, still insatiable.

He rubs his precum along her mouth, a filthy tease, and she licks it off with a kitten’s tongue, hips rolling back as Knox fucks her harder. His grip on her hips is brutal, possessive. Red bruises bloom where his fingers dig in.

Then Ryker pushes inside her mouth, and she takes him, eager and soft. Her lips stretch, her cheeks hollow, and her throat opens with practiced grace. She bobs her head, fast and hungry .

Ryker growls low in his chest. His hand fists in her hair, and he forces more of himself down her throat. She gags but doesn’t stop. She moans through it, messy and eager.

So fucking beautiful.

He stills, hips jerking. “Swallow every fucking drop,” he growls. Then he slams forward, spilling deep, and I watch her throat work.

I stroke her damp hair; fingers gentle in contrast. “Good girl, doll.”

Knox is still moving, still feral. His thrusts echo in the bathroom, wet skin slapping, her cries bouncing off the tiles. One arm wraps around her waist, the other between her thighs, fingers working her clit in tight, skilled circles.

“Knox,” She spasms around him, moaning his name like a prayer. Her orgasm rips through her, and he grunts and follows, thrusting deep, groaning into her ear as he empties himself inside her.

“Such a fucking good girl, pet,” he breathes, forehead against her shoulder. He kisses her temple. Once. Twice. Over and over.

Ryker leans in, trailing his fingers down her side, whispering soft praises against her jaw.

I step forward, grabbing the small bottle of oil. Max catches my eye and smirks.

“Our turn,” I murmur, and Aspen lifts her face toward us, lips swollen, eyes shining. She nods.

I lie back on the cold tiles, cock aching, and hold a hand out to her. “Ride me, doll. ”

Her legs are unsteady, thighs shaking, but Knox supports her as she lifts herself over me, straddling my waist. She sinks down, inch by inch, her warmth swallowing me whole.

“Shit,” I hiss, hands clutching her hips as she bottoms out. Her body molds to mine.

“Take your time, baby. I know your legs are shaking,” I whisper. “Just feel it.”

She moans sweetly, lips parting as her head tips back. She starts to move. Slow and delicious. I help her, hands firm as I guide her rhythm.

Her breasts bounce with each thrust, and Knox can’t resist; he grabs one, pinching her nipple until she gasps.

Max kneels behind us, opening the oil and pouring it onto his hands. He warms it in his palms, then leans in close.

“Ready, sweetheart?” He breathes against her ear.

“Yes, Max. “Please,” she begs, thick with lust.

I shift, pulling her hips up just enough, exposing her ass. Max slicks her, slow and reverent, his fingers spreading the oil with care. Then he aligns himself.

I still, letting her breathe. Letting her adjust.

Her body tenses as he pushes in slowly. Her walls tighten around me, and I groan, feeling every damn inch of her being claimed again.

“Just breathe, sweetheart,” Max grunts, sweat shining on his chest as he tries to stay gentle.

She whimpers, then begins to move. Her body rocks between us, my cock buried in her cunt, Max’s stretching her from behind.

We both moan, overwhelmed by how perfect she feels .

“I want more,” she whispers, almost broken. Almost crying from the intensity. And fuck , do we obey.

Max thrusts deeper. I start to move again, harder now, faster. We fuck her in tandem, a perfect rhythm; she breaks into sobs of pleasure.

Knox and Ryker watch, hands wrapped around their cocks again, hunger renewed.

She clenches tighter, cries louder.

“Fuckkk,” Max snarls, hips jerking. He spills inside her with a rough grunt, fingers digging into her hips.

She comes again, her whole body seizes as she cries out, walls fluttering, squeezing the soul out of me.

I let go. My orgasm crashes down like a goddamn tidal wave. I curse, biting my lip as I unload inside her.

She collapses against me, her skin slick and trembling. I wrap my arms around her, holding her to my chest. Max drags his fingers along her spine in lazy strokes, grounding her.

Knox presses kisses along her shoulder, murmuring devotion in her ear. Ryker kneels beside her, wiping strands of wet hair off her cheek.

I kiss the crown of her head.

Ours.

Forever.

The woman who fixed what we didn’t know was broken.

We sit around the old wooden table, plates half-full, laughter lingering in the air like smoke after a fire. Aspen’s in my lap, still wrapped in one of Knox’s shirts, hair damp, skin glowing. She’s smiling like all that pain never touched her. Like this is who she was always meant to be.

Ryker tosses a piece of bread at Max. Knox’s finger holding her other hand. And for the first time in a long fucking time… I feel it.

Peace.

Not because the world got better. Not because we won, but because we survived.

Because somehow, against all odds, we clawed our way back from hell and made this. A home. A family. Something worth bleeding for.

My gaze drifts to the window, to the fading light outside and the horizon beyond it. Somewhere out there, the ones with the skull and snake insignia still roam. The ones we haven’t faced yet. The ones who saw us.

They’re not gone, not forgotten, but Aspen shifts in my lap, her fingers lacing with mine, and I breathe, because for now?

For now, we rest.

We’re happy.

We’re safe .

And we have the love of our lives right here with us.

And that’s all we ever needed.

THE FUCKING END