Page 130 of Revenge Saints
My cock throbs.
Knox steps back, jaw flexing, eyes devouring her like prey.
“The things I want to do to your body,” he mutters. His fists clench at his sides. His gaze burns, wolf. Hunter. Predator.
She blinks slowly. “Then do it.”
Goddamn.
“Max,” Knox growls, unbuckling his belt. “Let’s play.”
I already know what’s in his head.I step to the side, matching his energy. Moving into position as he tosses his belt up over one of the ceiling beams.
“We’re going to own you, sweetheart,” I murmur, and her breath catches.
I take off my own belt, eyes never leaving hers. “Hands.”
She hesitates, just a beat, then lifts them slowly, wrists trembling.Good girl.
I wrap the leather tight around them, kissing the inside of her wrist before I pull away.
Then I lift her.
Knox grabs my belt and knots it into his, creating a loop that holds her suspended, wrists bound above her head. Her body sways gently. Her toes barely graze the floor.
She gasps, head tilting back, realization crashing in.
She’soff the ground, helpless and ours to take.
Dante steps in then, slow and controlled. His shirt’s gone. Chest rising. Muscles flexing. His gaze dark and hungry.
“Can I go first?” he asks, but it’s not really a question.
Knox and I trade a look and step back; let him worship her.
Dante positions himself directly in front of her, fingers reaching out, trailing a line around her nipples. Her body tightens, breath quickening.
“You look like a fucking goddess,” he growls. “Do you even know what you do to us, doll?”
She doesn’t answer. She can’t.
Her lips part, eyes glazed over with desire, already wrecked, and we’ve barely started.
His fingers trail lower. Her thighs twitch. Her breath hitches.
He reaches her pussy and starts slow, dragging slow, circular strokes over her clit.
Her head tips back on a moan. “Dante…” she breathes.
He fists a hand in her hair, not pulling heraway,but guiding her gazeback to him.
“Eyes on me,” he growls.
Then he crashes his mouth to hers, feral, filthy, all teeth and tongue.
A kiss meant toruin.
His fingers don’t stop. If anything, they get meaner, rubbing harder, faster.
