Page 103 of Revenge Saints
“Good.” I strip off my clothes. His gaze drops to my shoulder.
“You need a new bandage.”
“I’ll deal with it later.” The water hits me like ice, but it doesn’t do shit to the heat in my blood. I wash fast. My cock’s half-hard, even under the freezing spray. When I turn to grab my jeans, Knox is gone. Just a towel on the floor. I wrap it around myself and head to the bedroom.
When I open the door, I nearly trip over my own feet.
Aspen’s sprawled across the center of the bednaked.My eyes drag over every inch of her, every bruise, every scar, and stop at the bandage on her thigh.
She catches me looking and smiles. “I fell.”
“You fell?” I step closer, and she nods, biting her lip like she knows exactly what she’s doing.
Her eyes rake over my body. My chest, my arm, my inked-up hand.
She points to my shoulder. “Will that be a problem?” She teases, sultry and soft.
“No fucking way, doll.” My lips twitch as I drag my tongue across the bottom one, the taste of need thick on it. I want to bury my facebetween her thighs and make her come so hard she forgets I ever left.
She shifts slightly, fingers trailing beside her hip, and that’s when I see it.
A small knife.
Her fingertips toy with the handle like it’s a promise.
“Fuck, Aspen,” I groan. My heart’s about to break through my ribs.
I step between her legs, my gaze devouring her. The bruises make something inside me shiver, not fear, but rage and reverence.
“Open your legs,” I rasp. “I want to see your pussy.”
She does more than that.
She spreads wide and pinches her nipple, twisting it, breathing heavily.
“Fuck it.”
I crawl over her and slam my mouth onto hers, tongues clashing, teeth dragging. I thrust my tongue into her mouth like I’m already inside her, claiming every inch.
My hand slides down her body. I grip my cock, throbbing and ready, and position it at her entrance.
“Eyes on me, Aspen,” I growl.
She meets my gaze, and I drive into her, hard.
Her back arches, a cry ripping from her throat, but I don’t stop. I can’t. I thrust harder, deeper, the bed creaking and slamming against the wall.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper against her skin, losing control.
“I need more, Dante,” she moans in my ear.
And then I see it, the glint of the blade in her hand.
I sit up, still deep inside her, the sight of her slick and soaked cunt wrapped around me driving me insane.
I tap my chest, right above my heart. “Cut here.”
Her eyes widen. “What? No. You do it.”
