Chapter 11
Saint
Hanging up the phone, I toss it across the desk in my office, releasing a sigh and running a hand through my hair, crushing the cigarette out with the other.
Indie taps her nails across my desk, her ass perched on the opposite edge as she stares down at me with impatient eyes. “Well?”
“Most had left, one was in the process, and the other didn’t want to leave her family behind. He’s working on it.”
I watch her shoulders relax, but her brow is still dipped. “I suppose that’s better than none of them leaving.”
My fingers work against the keys of the keyboard, emailing Dawson to confirm the transfer for the one that’s staggering.
Indie and Regina have given all the money they had tied up in an account held aside in case shit went south. I added another million from my own blood money to make sure they heeded her warning, and allowed the last to take her family with her.
“Did he say anything about how they reacted?” she asks, biting her nail as she watches me.
I shake my head. “Never mentioned any issues. Regina went out to talk alone.”
She drops her hands in her lap. “I’ll ask her when we get back.”
My jaw flexes. Tomorrow night, we’ll be leaving to begin the journey across the state to her sister’s house. It’s the viper’s den, but if anything goes south?
I’ll turn it into the devil’s playpen.
My gaze travels along her, dressed in my sweatpants and hoodie. Her hands wring in her lap, then relax, then clench again. She’ll never admit it, but the thought of tomorrow is eating her from the inside out.
“Come here, darling.” I hold out my hand to beckon her with my fingers.
She walks over to me and settles in my lap, straddling my thighs. Her fingers toy with the strap of my vest, quiet eyes zoned in when she speaks. “Did you tell your dad about what Jenna said?”
“I did.”
Malcolm hasn’t stepped foot in the states for almost seven years; he’s mostly been overseas.
Working between countries where he has connections, gathering our most brutal and loyal of our employees.
Ultio isn’t filled with homicidal maniacs, but they’re definitely the kind of people you’d sleep better knowing they were for and not against you.
The veterans he’s gathered here were through the help of a friend.
“What did he say?” she asks, peeking up at me through her thick lashes.
“Now that we’ve got Jenna to safety, he’s coming to the Pit with more men. He’ll arrive the day after we get back from your sister’s.”
My dad’s managed to secure a decent amount to add to Ultio.
It’s not a full-scale army, but enough to cushion us for what lies ahead.
Mixing between the legit and criminal side of things.
The men he’s flying in are usually based in his London company, tying up loose ends before they head over here to assist the Pit, whilst the rest of us travel to Harriston.
“Is he going to stay long?” she asks, flickering her eyes up at me.
I groan, “Unfortunately.”
I tell her about our inconvenient call yesterday, right about when I was about to fuck her near that entrance way. And to piss me off even more, the first thing he barked was to make sure his room here was ready.
He’s fully up to speed on where we are, and as much as his demands piss me off, him going back to our home isn’t wise.
The Omnia have no idea right now who my dad and I really are, what invisible thread ties us to them. We’re not stupid enough to ignore that now they have my name and face, they’ll dig.
They’ll trace our home first, then link me to my father and his legitimate company. Before we know it, they’ll realise I’m not some rogue punk looking to bring down the corruption in his hometown.
They’ll know the parts he played to get me where I am, and if they dig deeper, all the hidden strings will rise to the surface, connecting us all in ways they wouldn’t have ever imagined.
“What’s wrong with that? It’s your dad,” she asks, no longer distracting herself with my vest, her soft skin brushing the side of my neck as she wraps her hands behind it.
“Nothing. Just when he’s here, he takes up all my time.”
Malcolm Blackwood will assert his control the minute he gets through the doors, likely commenting on how I run the place. It’s nothing like how he does his side, going like clockwork and formalities. But it works for us.
My dad’s not an asshole; he’s just old fashioned.
Indie’s voice drops, and my cock unintentionally stirs to life in my pants the minute it feels the friction matching the subtle movements of her hips. “Is he here for good?”
I bark a laugh, gripping her by the waist. “Can you not ask about my dad whilst grinding up on my dick?”
I tug her further up my lap, a mischievous smile tangling with the growing tension in the room. “Excuse me, I sat on your lap and you instantly hardened. Maybe learn a little control, boss.”
My gaze drops to her lips, resting there before passively gliding to those fox-like eyes. “I have no more control when it comes to you, Indie. You’ve ruined every ounce of self-restraint I learned over the years.”
Those hips crafted for sin pick up movement, rolling back and forth as she stares down at me, watching my every move. “Yeah?”
“Mhm.”
Frustration—along with the restraint against my zipper getting unbearable—gets the better of me.
I guide her off me to stand, hooking my finger in the waistband to yank the grey material and black panties down her legs, and tug her back in her original position.
Our lips meet in the middle, slow and unholy kisses mixing with the stroke of our tongues. Eager little fingers finding their way between us, the sound of metal clicks as she frees me, lifting her hips as I shove my cargos further down my thighs.
I glide my hand between the apex of her thighs, finding that slick, addictive heat. “Always wet for me, aren’t you, Indie darling?”
“Can you blame me?” she whispers, wisps of her dark brown locks flowing over her shoulder as she takes the hoodie off, blessing me with the sight of her.
My mouth latches onto the peak of her nipple, biting and teasing as I give each of them attention, her hips grinding in my hold as the warmth of her hand wraps around my length, slowly pumping me.
When she arches, she guides my throbbing head to her entrance, letting me inside with ease until she’s strangling me with her walls.
“Fuck, that’s it, baby,” I hiss through clenched teeth, her thighs trembling as she balances on the balls of her feet, panting fans of hot, rapid breaths against my cheek.
“Sit all the way down, Indie. You can take it,” I murmur, a guttural moan bursting from me when she does, mixing with her whimpers of my name. “Good girl.”
Her eyes flutter open as she adjusts to me, bones melting beneath my grip. My darling little monster loves to be praised. The desire that takes over her form is undeniable, and I take a mental note to use it whenever she doesn’t fucking listen to me.
I’m jerked forward, shaken from my wicked thoughts as she curls her fist around my bulletproof vest. Her firm demand has my cock twitching inside of her. “Take it off.”
A smirk plays on my lips; I’ve always seen myself as a dominant man, but fuck. I’d let this woman bark demands at me all day, just to fuck her into submission all night long.
I reach round to tug the Velcro of my vest, followed by my thermal.
She moans in appreciation, palms roaming along my core to my trap muscles, kneading her paws like a feline as she waves her hips. Desperation gets the better of me, and I fuck upwards into her, studying her as she gets lost in her own pleasure; it makes it worth it.
My inked hand stands stark against her flesh, my deviousness radiated on the outside, whilst hers is concealed from within.
It travels up her sternum, gripping her neck as she arches backwards, straining her neck and showing me her pulse roaring, its wild beats thudding against the tips of my fingers.
“Fuck. Saint,” she gasps, the grinding of her hips picking up as I lean back in the chair, watching her bring herself to orgasm. The image of her burns into my retinas, sealing itself into my neocortex, counting myself lucky this goddess is mine.
I’ll think about every one of her performances until the day I die.
My grip tightens around her neck, finding that pressure point as she gasps, my thumb rolling lazy circles against her clit. “You like that, baby?”
Her strangled confirmation bleeds through the room, each of her moans forcing me closer to the edge, and my grip constricts a fraction more. “You like it when I hold your life in my hands, don’t you? Wondering if I’ll let go at the right moment, right when you’re about to explode around my cock.”
The moment the whites of her eyes show dominance, I let go, bucking my hips into her as she comes, her pussy clamping around my dick to the point I hiss a breath.
I fixate on her as she comes undone, eventually settling from her high as her vision refocuses, head tipping forward as she gazes at me through hooded eyes.
My hands snake up her waist, tilting her forward until my mouth ghosts the shell of her ear, whispering a threat I’ll make good on. “My turn.”
I drive my hips upwards again, the slap of skin filling the room as I fuck her tight pussy, showing no mercy and letting the wound-up coil of tension in me unleash as I give her everything I’ve got.
Her screams could be heard through the ages, and I’ve no doubt my name is echoing down the halls like a tortured prayer.
She slaps her hands to my shoulders, meeting each of my thrusts as her eyes glitter with unshed tears in the light. She bounces around in my lap, my jaw slackening as I feel my balls tightening. Those perfect tits bouncing in my face pull me into a trance. “Fuck, Saint. I’m going to—”
“Hold it.”
Her eyes widen. I know she can’t. She never has been able to. It’s a wicked game I liked to play with her.
She screws her face up as she tries to fight the inevitable. The way I’m hitting that spot and stroking her clit has sweat glistening over her skin, I know she’s close. My eyes cast down to watch where we meet.
“No, I’m gonna—”
“Keep it in for me, baby. I’ll tell you when to let go.”
Her breathing becomes ragged. “I can’t, I really—”
I miss what she says, too hypnotised as her slickness coats every inch of me, and I strum my thumb against her sensitive clit, causing her movements to falter.
“I wish you could see what I do, how fucking perfect you are. This tight pussy taking me so well. Those curves. You are otherworldly at the end of my cock, beautiful.”
Picking up the pace, her nails scrape along my shoulders, and my palms dig to the point her skin bleaches beneath the pressure.
Her cries turn into desperate whimpers, an unintelligible please liquifying between them.
“Such a good girl, Indie. Look at how fucking well you’re taking it.”
“Saint!” she cries, the pitch in her voice sky high as her legs tremble like an earthquake, her claws sinking into my flesh as a rush of wetness soaks between us, and the fucking sight of it sends the heat roaring down my spine.
I come inside her with an intensity I’ve never felt, a hoarse grunt leaving me as I drop my hips back into the seat.
Sweat trickles down my forehead, and I pant as I fight to gather the lost oxygen in my lungs. Indie drops her head to my shoulder, nuzzled into the crook of my neck.
“Why are you hiding?” I ask, rubbing my hand along the dip of her spine.
“I haven’t done that before,” she whispers, and the corners of my lips curl at the sides.
“I aim to make you do it again.”
“No!” she protests, but I can feel her smile against my neck.
“Why? That was hot as fuck.”
My heart pounds in my chest that there’s still firsts with each other. Still learning the other’s new ways. Every new moment with her, whether sexual or not, since she stormed back into my life has felt like the first time.
I’ll never give up any of them.
It’s been both a blessing, and a curse.
She pushes against me to sit, hair a wild mess as she shakes her head. I drag a hand through my hair. “Pass me the packet.”
An arched brow cocks as she looks at me, folding her arms under her chest, forcing her tits up higher, a hint of raspiness lingering in her voice. “All this time on earth, and you’ve yet to learn the word please.”
A deep laugh rumbles in my chest when she leans away from my stare, and I yank the cigarette and lighter out as I place it against my lips.
“Haven’t you learned it’s not in my vocabulary?” I puff the smoke to the side, watching her intently. She’s all wild hair and flushed cheeks, the most sublime creature to ever grace the earth.
“Seems to only make an appearance when you’re desperate.” She holds her hand out, and I give her the smoke, the sight of it forcing me back in time.
Back to when I first felt that addictive heat bestow an addiction on me I’d never get away from. It travelled through my body, welding an unbreakable connection to her soul. “Desperation leads to sin, Indie darling.”
She regards me with a devious look.
“Doesn’t the devil thrive in that?” She hikes her brow up, and fuck do I want to yank her on the end of my cock again, just to wipe that look off her face.
“He does, and I’m about to show you just how unholy it can get.”