Page 66 of Lethal Saint

“My Saint. My ah—”

The pressure I added to her clit made her whole body buck.

“Finish the thought, my queen,” I ordered.

“My shield,” she panted. “Please keep doing that. Oh god, please.”

A smile crossed my face and I could breathe for the first time all night. I still needed to be buried inside her, needed that rough, carnal joining, but this took the edge off.

“I wouldn’t stop if a SWAT team burst into the room and trained their rifles on me,” I told her, dragging kisses down her neck.

“Is that—a real possibility?”

I snorted. “Not a chance.”

No one had anything on me. They knew Dad was up to shady shit, but their only suspicions were money laundering, and the rest of us were fine. Armand Finch was hardly going to phone the police when he found Boris and Mark; that would only invite them to look closely at him since he owned both properties.

“Arrogant,” Vasilisa said breathily, riding my hand now.

“Confident,” I countered. “Are you gonna come, my queen? I can feel you gripping me, trying to suck my fingers deeper.”

She turned her head to kiss me and sank her teeth into my bottom lip. A deep, animal groan tore from me and I kissed her hard, returning every bite and lick and suck until I was trembling as hard as my wife. It took everything I had not to push her onto her back, cover her body with mine, and fuck her into our mutual oblivion.

“Damien,” she gasped against my tongue.

I moved my fingers faster, answering her desperation. “Is my wife on the edge? Fuck, that was a deep throb. You’re going to be a good girl and come for your husband, aren’t you?”

She nodded fast, loud breaths turning to moans and her hips writhing.

I curved my other hand around her throat, not squeezing, just holding enough to tilt her head back. I put my lips to her ear, curving my fingers inside her at the same time I asked, “Does mybeautiful, dangerous wife know there’s blood on the fingers I’m fucking her with?”

Her back bowed and she screamed. She came so hard that her inner muscles gripped my fingers so tightly it was a struggle to fuck her through the waves of pleasure. And like we were bound soul to soul as well as in marriage, her orgasm washed away my own violent stress until we both sagged against the headboard.

I scattered kisses across her head, gently withdrawing my fingers when she stopped fluttering around me, her whole body relaxed and pliant. God, she was beautiful. And cute. How could a woman be both at once?

She whined loudly, the sound high and sulky when I tried to move away.

“If you don’t let me up, how can I get a cloth to clean you with?” I asked, fondness bursting my heart. With blood all over me, clean up was vital.

“Take me with you,” she mumbled.

I could never deny her what she wanted, so I huffed a laugh and turned her in my arms, supporting her back as I stood and walked us into the attached bathroom.

“I’m moving in here,” I told her, setting her down on the cold marble counter and laughing at her hiss of complaint when the icy stone met her bare ass. “There’s no point pretending to keep my own room when I spend all my time in yours.”

“Good,” she agreed, her eyes still hazy with pleasure. Just how I liked her. I stole a kiss before I ran a cloth through warm water and cleaned her with gentle strokes, washing the blood off my hands, face, and neck while I was at it. “I don’t want you in another room.”

“Sure you don’t want your own space?” I probed. “I might overwhelm you with attention.”

Vasilisa smiled, trailing her fingers up my neck to my face as her eyes focused. “That’s my favourite thing about you. The kisses and hugs and how much time you spend with me.”

“And here I thought it was me committing mass murder for you.”

She snorted a breath of laughter that made me fall deeper, harder in love with her.

“You gonna stay here while I have a quick shower, or does her highness want me to carry her back to bed?”

Vasilisa rolled her eyes, unable to keep the smile from her lips. “I’ll stay here.”

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