Sancte Diaboli: Part Two (The Elite King's Club 7)

I turn over to face him, though the lights are out and I can’t see. “I don’t understand why there was such a panic to get me to safety.”

My heart skips a beat when I feel the cushion of his thumb against my bottom lip.

“Because they’re smart.” He pauses and my stomach rolls. “Way fucking smarter than I am.”

My breathing halts as my blood turns to lava.

“You done being jealous?”

The sensual way the words leave his mouth has a direct line to my core. All this time I have been here, I’ve felt a void inside my chest. I thought that void was from betrayal, but I was wrong. That emptiness was from not having Brantley here with me. Close. Not knowing where he was or what he had done, or why he had done it.

“I am,” I whisper, and right as my lips part, his thumb dips inside my mouth.

“Come here.”

“I—”

He flicks the blanket off my body, grabs me by the hips and rolls me on top of him.

I press on his chest to keep myself upright as his hands glide up beneath his shirt. I lean down until my nose touches his. “I missed you.”

Silence. Nothing but silence. I push off him to sit back up, but he leans forward and catches my mouth with his. My tongue slips between his lips greedily as he directs me over and down his girth. Every stroke has my heart rate pulsing until sweat beads at my temples. He pulls out slowly, sucking my tongue farther into his mouth as I guide my hips down over his thick length. He hooks his thumbs into my panties and tears them off, flicking them to the other side of the room.

“I’m angry,” he growls, biting on my jaw.

“Well, same,” I say, guiding my hips over him as I slide down his length.

He hisses, and the sound is so animalistic I almost pass out. “Fuck.”

I place my hand on the front of his throat as I ride him slowly, allowing him to slide out just enough before slamming back down onto him so hard his balls hit my ass. He squeezes my hip bones, directing me over him faster. I have control for all of five seconds before he flips me onto my back and drives into me. He leans down and flicks his tongue over my collarbone. I moan softly as he leaves a trail of pain down the edge, the tip of his canines biting into my flesh. My back arches off the bed, my core convulsing as he grinds into me with forceful strokes.

“Don’t ever touch another man again, Saint.” He squeezes my wrist with his hand, forcing it above my head. He shoves it farther into the mattress. “Answer me.”

My eyes flutter closed. “I won’t.” He slips out of me and I groan in frustration, until he trails bite marks down my sternum, past my belly, and across my inner thigh.

Positioning my leg over his shoulder, his tongue flicks over me and ignites a fire so hot I don’t think I’ll be able to last long. My hands are buried in his hair, tugging every time he sucks my clit into his mouth. My muscles tense all at once before releasing, my legs jerking as I come down. He licks his way back up my body and slowly drives back inside of me. His pace is slower this time, but still the same depth. His lips come to mine and he kisses me gently, his tongue overlapping mine. Our bodies slap together as sweat drips off his forehead and falls onto mine. He brings his hand up to rest his thumb on the cushion of my lip, and I sweep my tongue over it. His eyes darken as he picks up the pace, falling back into our deep tangle of kisses. Kissing Brantley is like kissing the angel of death. He takes my breath the same way. My legs wrap around his back, my arm hooking around his neck.

“I—” I choke on my words when my orgasm obliterates all sense to talk. My eyes roll so far to the back of my head that white dots flicker like strobe lights. He collapses on me after finishing but doesn’t move. Neither of us moves, our breathing heavy and in sync. Slowly, he peels his sticky body off mine and rolls to the side, onto his back.

“I fucking lost my shit seeing you touch him.”

“I know,” I whisper gently, turning over to face him while dragging the sheet with me. “But it wasn’t what you’re thinking.”

“Yeah?” he snaps bitterly. “Well, it sure as fuck looked like it.”

“Brantley, you’re being ridiculous.”

“No.” His head tilts sideways to face me. I can’t see him because it’s dark, but I can see the edges of his jaw and the slight glistening of his skin. “I’m not. I’ve watched Bishop and Nate go through having to tolerate their girl having a side-piece. I’m not playing that game. You get Bishop and that’s it.”