Saint
“We’ll talk in the morning.”
I scoop her up and carry her into the bedroom, not giving a single fuck about the consequences or the ultimatum she’s just given me.
All that shit can wait.
Right now, I’ve got her naked, full of my come, and once I’ve licked her out, I’ll be ready to go again.
“Don’t you think we should talk about it?” she asks when I lay her down and spread her legs. “We’re complicated…and I really like yo—oh fuck, Saint.”
I’m between her thighs, tongue dragging over her swollen clit, and she’s lost all track of the conversation.
Fuck, she tastes like me and her.
That sweet, salty mix of her pussy and the load I already pumped into her has my cock twitching all over again.
I shouldn’t be this gone for her. Shouldn’t be burying my face like a man starving, but here I am—sucking her clit between my lips, flicking it with the flat of my tongue while two fingers curl deep inside her, stroking that spot that makes her hips jerk off the mattress.
She’s mine right now. That’s all that matters.
Her hands fist in my hair, pulling hard enough to sting, and I growl into her, the vibration making her whimper.
That needy little sound, so breathy and needy, hits me straight in the chest.
I lap at her slower, worshipping every wet inch of flesh like she’s the only thing in this fucked-up life worth kneeling for.
“Saint—oh God—”
Her thighs start trembling around my ears. I pin them wider with my shoulders, locking her open so she can’t hide from it.
I suck harder, fingers pumping faster, and her whole body bows. Legs shaking now, heels digging into my back as she comes with a choked groan that turns into a full-throated moan.
Her pussy clenches around my fingers in pulsing waves, flooding my tongue, and I keep licking her through it, greedy for every drop.
She’s still gasping, still twitching, when I pull away, wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, and flip her over onto her belly in one rough motion.
I hitch her hips high, ass up, face down, that perfect curve presented to me for the taking. My hand gathers her hair into a thick ponytail, wrapping it once around my fist.
“Fuck, princess,” I mutter. “You’ll have me up all night.”
I line my cock up and drive in deep, bottoming out in one stroke. She’s soaked, still fluttering from her orgasm, and the wet sound of it has my heart pumping faster.
Using my grip on her hair to arch her back, I pull her onto me with every snap of my hips. The smack of skin fills my room, mixed with her muffled moans into the duvet.
She comes again, her inner walls gripping me so tight I almost lose it. Her legs shake harder this time, whole body trembling as she screams my name. And fuck, I love how it sounds coming out of her mouth.
I pull out, flip her onto her ass, and drop onto the edge of the bed. Before she can catch a breath, I’m manhandling her, my hands on her narrow waist as I drag her onto my lap.
She straddles me, knees sinking into the mattress on either side of my hips. I grip her ass, fingers biting into soft flesh, spreading her as I pull her down onto my cock.
“Ride me,” I growl against her throat, guiding her movements. “Tell me how good it feels. How full ya are.”
A choked groan slips from her lips as she tries to answer, the sound breaking into a whimper that makes my balls tighten.
She rocks on me, slow and deep at first, then faster, grinding her clit against my pelvis with every roll of her hips.
I hold her tight, helping her, one hand still kneading that perfect ass while the other slides up her spine and into her hair.
Her skin is so soft. So fucking silky. The kind of perfection that scares the shit out of me.
Her arms wrap around my neck, tits pressed to my chest, breath hot against my ear as she whimpers and moves.
I sink my teeth into her shoulder, biting to leave a mark, then lick the sting.
“Good girl. I want you bouncing on my cock every fucking night, dripping with my load, so ruined no other man will ever satisfy ya again.”
I grip her ass tighter.
“I think about tying you to my bed and eating this pussy for hours, then fucking ya stupid until the only thing left in that pretty head is my name and how deep I’m buried inside you.”
The pressure inside me builds fast and mean.
I thrust up to meet her, chasing that edge.
She clenches around me with a broken cry, and that’s all it takes. I growl low against her neck and come hard, pulsing deep inside her while I hold her down on me, chest to chest, not letting her move an inch.
For a few rough breaths, I just hold her there.
Morning’s for talking. Tonight she’s all mine, and I’m nowhere near done with her.
The sky has lightened a little when I wake, that raw, bruised hour where night still clings and morning hasn’t found its strength yet.
I lie there for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling, letting the peacefulness of her breathing settle into me.
She’s still asleep beside me, and fuck, I could go at her all day if I didn’t have the weight of everything on my shoulders.
After a beat, I sit, swing my legs over the edge of the bed, and stand on the cold floor.
I rub a hand over my face, stretch my stiff legs, and leave the bedroom without flipping a switch.
In the bathroom, I stand under the hot water and shower off every trace of what I did to her until she had nothing left to give.
Eventually, I dry off and pull on my clothes piece by piece—clean boxers, jeans, a shirt, and gun holster.
When I’m at the front door, I stuff my feet into boots, throw on a sherpa jacket and cover my damp hair with a baseball cap, taking a deep breath before stepping out into the icy wind, welcoming the brisk chill.
The sharp sting hits me as I head to the yard and make my way to the main house.
I reposition my cap and keep walking, eyes fixed on the stretch of fields beyond and the kitchen light glowing in the distance.
The deal’s close, and the pressure we’ve put on Alasdair has hit a nerve. Maybe we don’t need Keira here to finish it.
It would be cleaner without her. Less chance of us getting caught by Crowley. I could let her go and find another way.
I stop at the fence, boots planted, staring out at the land that I’ve protected all my life.
Would she leave Black Heath for good if I let her walk?
My fists flex at my sides. Then I turn toward the house and push the mess I’ve made aside.
The only conversation I need to have right now is how to destroy the men who hurt my sister. After that…I’ll figure out how to make Keira mine for good.
I don’t bother to take off my jacket when I enter the kitchen. This won’t take long, and the woman in my bed needs breakfast.
Rafe leans back in his chair at the table, cigarette burning between his fingers, eyes locking on me as I join them.
Dane’s at the counter pouring coffee, and Sera sits next to Ma with a full mug in front of her, staring at nothing.
Ma holds the head of the table like always, smoking while she watches her family come together.
I drop into the empty chair, take the coffee Dane slides my way, and drink it black.
“Did you sleep much, Sera?” I ask.
“Like a baby,” she says, her tone flat.
Rafe flicks ash into the tray. “How do we deal with this? I want every fucker who did that to her six-feet under.”
“They won’t get away with it,” Dane adds, moving to the chair beside me. “We need to teach them a lesson.”
I nod once. “No one comes for us without consequences.”
“How many were there?” Rafe asks. “Fionn Harrington and who else?”
“Do ya have names?” I try to catch her eye, but she doesn’t entertain it.
Silence stretches for a beat. I take a slow sip of coffee, studying my sister’s bruised face and split lip.
“Sera?” I say. “How many guys?”
She shakes her head and sighs. “Forget about it, Saint.”
Rafe exhales smoke, his forehead creasing. “Why the fuck would we do that? Have ya looked at yourself this morning?”
Sera still doesn’t move. For a second, it looks like she hasn’t even heard. Then she reaches for her mug, calm as stone.
“The two men who touched me are dead,” she says before taking a sip. “Leave Fionn Harrington to me.”
“Who the fuck killed them?” Dane’s brows pull together. “What the hell is going on, Sera? We found ya in an empty barn. There was no one else there. Not even, Fionn.”
She takes another sip and doesn’t lift her eyes from the fruit bowl in the center of the table.
“It means what I said.”
Dane straightens. “Sera—”
“We’re done with it.” She sets her mug on the table. “We need to focus on the land and what Saint plans to do with Keira Harrington.”
I sit back, flicking the lighter, staring at the flame.
“How long is the Harrington girl staying in your bed, son?” Ma’s voice slips into the silence from my left.
Sending her back at this stage costs more than it solves.
Keeping her complicates everything.
“Whatever I do with her is my business,” I say. “You’d do well to remember that.”
“What the fuck is wrong with ya?” Rafe glares at me.
No one speaks.
I flick the lighter again and watch the flame catch as Keira’s face floods my mind. The memory of kissing her sits somewhere it shouldn’t.
I close the lighter, drop it and look up just as Ma stubs out her cigarette and leans over the table.
“Well, I won’t let another Harrington whore take from me,” she hisses. “Once this is over, get rid of her, or I’ll make sure she’s removed, and it won’t be pleasant.”
I straighten, her warning getting on my last fucking nerve.
“I’d advise ya not to get in my way, Ma. My loyalty’s with the people around this table, and if I put Keira next to me, I won’t ask for anyone’s permission.”
As soon as I finish, my phone buzzes in my jacket pocket. I fish it out, check the early morning time and the unknown number.
“Who’s this?” I answer.
“Am I speaking to Ciarán Tallon?” a woman asks.
“Depends who’s askin’.”
“Christina Montclair, calling on behalf of Mr. Harrington’s legal team. Mr. Harrington has signed the contract your solicitor sent over. It’s being returned via courier this morning.”
“He signed?”
“He did. We’ll be collecting Miss Harrington in one hour.”
As I drop the phone from my ear, Rafe shoves his chair back to stand. “He fucking signed, didn’t he?”
“He did.”
I drag a hand over my scruff and exhale a long breath. Dane heads to the cupboard and pulls out a bottle of whiskey.
“That deserves a drink.” He unscrews the cap while I sit there, the smile still on my face not reaching anywhere else.
Harrington finally signed the land over to me.
Only thing is: this isn’t the end.
Because the land’s not enough anymore.