65. Saint
Chapter sixty-five
Saint
A s the limo glides through the city streets, the ambient glow of the night reflecting off the tinted windows, I hold Princess close, her warmth nestled against my chest. Her head rests on my shoulder, her fingers tracing lazy circles on my chest, the afterglow of our intimacy still lingering between us.
I steal a glance at Dre and Chess, but they’re still caught up in themselves.
My gaze returns to Princess, and a soft smile tugs at the corners of my lips. At that moment, with her in my arms, I realize how desperately I want to hold her like this for the rest of my life. The thought of making her my wife… it does things to me. Things I never thought I’d feel, things I never thought I deserved.
The subtle rise and fall of her chest against mine, the rhythmic beating of her heart beneath my fingertips—these are the notes of a melody I yearn to play for a lifetime.
I press a gentle kiss to the crown of her head, feeling her soft exhale against my neck. The city lights flicker outside, but in the confines of the limo, time seems to stand still.
The words are on the tip of my tongue, but I don’t think she’s ready to hear them yet.
I love you, Princess.
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Dre
The house comes into view I hastily tuck myself back into my pants, the fabric feeling rough against sensitized skin. Chess grins at me, all teeth and wicked promises, as I reel him in by the collar of his shirt for a messy kiss that tastes a little like me. It's heated and imperfect, and I fucking love it.
I gave Saint the car ride to keep my snowflake to himself. But, I’m not about to let him steal a whole night with her. I want a fucking taste.
Saint's arms are wrapped around Snowflake, her body molded to his chest, her golden hair spilling across his dark suit. His fingers dance along the curve of her spine, sketching patterns onto her skin that she seems to feel deep in her soul. Their shared contentment, so rare and fragile, sends an unfamiliar warmth through me, stirring something in my chest that feels dangerously like love.
But, that’s impossible.
"Come on," Saint murmurs, his voice low and intimate as he gently disentangles himself from Snowflake. He scoops her up with ease, her slight frame fitting naturally into his hold. I follow behind them, Chess at my side, our steps synchronized with the rhythm of this strange, new dance we're learning.
Climbing the grand staircase, Saint pauses at the top, his gaze scanning the row of doors. There's a moment of indecision before he moves toward the one we'd agreed would be Snowflake's sanctuary. He doesn't enter right away, though. Instead, he turns, holding her close and meeting our eyes.
"You guys should...," he starts, and for a second I think he's going to tell us he wants her to himself. My gut twists at the thought. I’ll fight him tooth and fucking nail. I’m not giving her up tonight. I agreed to the marriage. I get it, I understand. He can offer her a freedom that Chess and I just can’t. But she is ours. "It may be our night, but she's not just mine."
"Never thought she was," I say, stepping closer, the magnetic pull towards Snowflake undeniable. Chess nods beside me, his hazel eyes dark with anticipation. We cross the threshold together. This is about her, about us, about taking shattered pieces and building something no one else can touch.
"Are you good, Addy?" Chess asks, his voice soft, always the charmer with a storm beneath his smile.
She nods, green eyes bright and trusting. And damn if that trust isn't the heaviest thing I've ever wanted to protect.
"I am," she whispers, and we believe her.
Saint's hands are steady on her hips, grounding her as he places her feet back on the floor. His touch is soft, speaking of something deeper than lust. Fuck we are so far gone for this girl. The air is charged with an energy that buzzes just beneath my skin.
"Let's get you comfortable," Chess murmurs, his fingers brushing against the zipper of her dress. She nods, watching as I step back, those beautiful green eyes never leaving mine. We undress her slowly, reverently.
She’s a thing of beauty. I want to defile her, claim and possess. But I also want to worship her, cherish and protect her.
She stands before us, vulnerable yet strong, a goddess in human form. Snowflake is not just a prize to be won; she is our equal. Saint's fingers work the tiny hooks at her back while Chess slides the straps of the dress down her arms. Snowflake shivers under our touch, a delicate tremor that speaks volumes to the vulnerability she allows us to witness.
The fabric pools at her feet, leaving her exposed in black, lacy panties. I squeeze my cock, desperate for her in a way I’ve never been for anyone else.
My gaze darkens, and I sinks to my knees behind her. Her breath hitches as my lips press against her flesh, right at the curve of her ass, and then my teeth—sharp and unexpected—sink into her skin. A surprised yelp escapes her, followed by a giggle. The sensation is sharp, thrilling.
"Can you take more, Snowflake?" My voice is rough, filled with a hunger that sends shivers down her spine. I've been holding back all night, and I'm done. I need her. I need her so fucking bad it makes me ache.
I meet her gaze. "I'm not ready to go to sleep yet," she says with a smirk, a challenge glinting in her eye.
"Good," I whisper, standing up. "Because neither am I."
The hunger in my eyes is unmistakable as I tower above her. My voice is a command, dark and laced with desire. "Show me that pretty pussy."
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Chess
The air is charged, thick with the scent of our arousal. My heart is pounding in my chest, my palms slick with sweat as I gaze at her, every curve and angle of her body. It's as if she's been made for us, and I'm not just talking about her beauty.
She looks at me, her eyes telling me that she's scared but wants this. I meet her gaze, my own filled with equal parts fear and desire.
With a shaky breath, I reach out, my fingertips brushing against the edge of her panties. Each of us is waiting for the other to make the first move, the tension in the room palpable.
Dre stares up at her waiting for an answer, action. And, suddenly a revelation hits me like a freight train—I'm in love with her.
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Addy
I meet Dre’s eyes and nod, granting him the silent permission he’s been waiting for. He's poised behind me like a shadow given form, the cool edge of his presence sending shivers up my spine. His growl is low and feral, vibrating against my skin just before his teeth sink into the soft flesh of my ass. It's a delicious kind of pain that makes my heart quicken.
"More," I whisper, barely audible over the thrumming in my ears.
Dre doesn't need to be told twice. His fingers find the elastic of my panties, and with an artful slowness, he peels them away from my body. The lace drags across my skin, igniting every nerve ending it touches. The sensation is maddening, leaving a trail of heat in its wake as the fabric slides down my legs, pooling around my ankles.
"Spread for us, Addy," Chess coaxes, his voice a velvet purr.
I can almost feel the weight of his dark gaze, heavy with desire and something deeper, something that speaks to the shadows we both harbor within ourselves.
I obey, bending forward until my hands meet the cool hardwood floor, my hair cascading down in a blonde wave. Everything feels heightened in this moment, the air charged with electricity.
Dre’s teeth meet my skin again, biting down as he cracks his hand across my other cheek. I move onto the bed, reclining back against the plush comforter, and part my legs wide. It's an offering, a silent plea that's met with predatory hunger.
They circle around like predators, each groan vibrating through the room, mirroring the throbbing pulse between my thighs. Their eyes devour every inch of my exposed flesh, and their hands—strong, eager—adjust the bulges growing behind their zippers. It's an unspoken worship, and it makes me feel powerful, wanted, desired. And in this room, with these boys, I am the one who commands the darkness.
"Princess?" Saint's voice cuts through the haze of arousal, grounding me. "Do you want to stop?"
The concern in his dark eyes is clear, a stark contrast to the intensity I've come to associate with him. But no, I don't want to stop—not when I'm so close to touching the stars.
I shake my head, my breath hitching in my throat. "No," I whisper.
"Good," he says, his voice dropping an octave. “You set the pace here, Princess. ZYou set the boundaries. You say 'stop', we stop. No questions asked."
Dre's ice blue eyes meet mine from behind Saint, and Chess's hazel ones catch the light as they both nod their agreement, their expressions serious yet filled with unspoken promises.
My nod is firm. I can trust them. I must.
"Say it, Princess," he urges, and there's a note of something more—a plea for my consent that tugs at my heartstrings.
"I know," I assure them, my voice stronger now as I find my footing in this power dynamic. "I want this. I want all of you."
It's as if my affirmation is a signal, shattering any remaining hesitation. Clothes start to shed, fabric whispering against skin as Saint, Dre, and Chess reveal themselves to me. My heart races, each thud echoing loudly in my chest as they stand before me, raw and unguarded.
They converge on me, a tapestry of skin and muscle. Hands roam over my body, fingers tracing the curves and contours as if committing every detail to memory. Lips follow, pressing against my flesh in a symphony of sensation that drowns out everything else. Their praises cascade down upon me, intermingled with dirty confessions of longing and need.
"So fucking beautiful." I hear Dre's voice, low and rough with desire.
As we move together, lost in this dance, I realize that with them, I am not broken or battered—I am beautiful, fierce, and free.
And theirs.
"God, Addy," Chess murmurs against the crook of my neck, his breath hot on my skin. "You have no idea what you do to us."
"Everything we've been thinking about..." Dre trails off, his voice a growl that vibrates through me, sending shivers down my spine.
Saint's hands grip my hips, his thumbs circling slowly. "We're going to worship every inch of you," he vows, and I can hear the truth in his words, a sacred oath spoken in the language of touch.
Lost in the sensation, I surrender to their ministrations, my mind clouded with the intoxicating blend of power and desire. They are everywhere, all at once, and I am the center of their universe.
Heat sears through me, a rising tide of yearning as their hands and mouths worship the canvas of my body. Saint's lips trail fiery paths down my abdomen, his tongue drawing circles that ignite sparks beneath my skin. Dre's fingers dance along my inner thigh, teasing, promising more. Chess's mouth finds mine, his kiss a heady blend of sweet and sinful that makes me dizzy with want.
"Fuck," I gasp, feeling myself teeter on the brink of something monumental. My breaths come in short, ragged gasps, each one a silent plea for more—more touch, more sensation, more of them. “Please don’t stop.”
"Never," Chess vows against my lips, his voice laced with the same hunger that claws at my insides.
"Can't stop," Dre murmurs, his breath hot against the sensitive skin where leg meets hip. "Need you too much."
Saint's gaze locks onto mine, depths of midnight blue swirling with emotion. "You're so beautiful like this, Addy. Open and undone." His words are a caress as tangible as his touch, stroking the raw edges of my desire.
"More," is all I manage to utter, a desperate whisper that seems to echo around us.