Merciless Saints (St. Monarch's Academy 1)

Another frustrated groan escapes my lips, and then my mind loses the battle, and my body takes over.

Lifting my head, I press a kiss to Damien’s jaw. “Please.” My teeth scrape over his jaw. “Please.” I move down his throat and then sink my teeth into the skin over his pulse. I suck hard before lifting my eyes to his. “Please, Damien.”

He looks possessed, and I’m ready to beg some more, but before the words can form on my tongue, Damien positions himself at my entrance. He’s big, though, and I try to relax my muscles as he rocks against my opening. The moment his head breaks through, he slams into me so hard it shifts my body up the bed.

I can only gasp from the sharp pain, which I didn’t expect.

Damien’s eyes rake over my face, looking like the demon I feared when I first met him. But now, the fearsome expression makes me want him more.

I want all of him.

It was my intention to make him obsessed with me, but I fear that’s no longer the case.

Damien pulls out and lowering his head, his mouth claims mine in a possessive kiss as he drives back inside me. His hold on my wrists tightens until it becomes bruising as his other hand grips my hip.

He pulls out one more time, and then he begins to move like a destructive force. His hard length filling me completely and mercilessly. His body possesses mine. His mouth ravishes my lips. His touch bites into my skin.

Damien claims the debt I owe him.

As he takes my body, my heart, and my soul, there’s nothing I can do to stop him.

I begin to whimper into his mouth as his thrusts grow rougher, hitting me so deep. Each time he fills me, pleasure strikes like a lightning bolt.

His body owns mine, and when he growls, “Come, Princess,” it listens. I explode beneath him, into an unrecognizable mess only he can put back together.

A cry tears from me as the intense orgasm seizes me, my body convulsing beneath Damien’s. His eyes are locked on mine as he takes in the sight of me coming apart because of him.

As the intense pleasure strips me bare, Damien’s features tighten, a possessive expression permanently carved into his face.

“Mine,” he growls, and then he finds his own release, his body jerking as he fills me.

Pleasure washes over Damien’s face, and never has he looked more brutal and more beautiful.

A merciless Russian God, and I belong to him.

“Yours,” I manage to gasp, and it has Damien losing his mind all over again.

DAMIEN

I slowly thrust inside Winter, riding the last ripples of pleasure. Being only with whores before Winter, I’ve never orgasmed more than once. But with Winter, I’m still semi-hard even after three orgasms. My desire for her is unrelenting and inexhaustible. I’ll never be able to get enough of her.

As my body stills against Winter’s and we stare at each other, one realization stands out above all others – she’s mine. The Blood Princess belongs to me and only me.

When she finally submitted, it shifted something inside me. Not only did I claim her, but it feels as if she claimed me as well.

My eyes search hers, and when I see the warmth blossoming in her emerald irises, my lips curve up.

“My little fighter,” I murmur, with no intention of getting up.

Winter tugs at my hold on her wrists, and I let go. She brings her hands down, and cupping my jaw, she lifts her head and presses a tender kiss to my mouth. Resting her head back on the bed, her eyes drift over my face as her fingertips brush over my jaw.

A vulnerable expression flits over her features, and it has me asking, “What’s that look for?”

She shakes her head, her fingertips moving down to my neck.

“Tell me,” I demand.

She resists for a couple of seconds longer, then she whispers, “I’ve lost everyone that matters to me.”

I rest my forearms on either side of her head, and with my eyes locked with hers, I say, “You have me.”

She searches my face for the truth in my words, then she murmurs, “Don’t die.”

The corner of my mouth lifts. “I won’t.”

With our soft words, our bodies still joined, and our eyes locked, the dynamics between us gradually begin to evolve into something more profound.

This time when our mouths meet, it’s not out of desire or my wanting to claim her. The kiss is tender, filled with unspoken promises as we dedicate ourselves to each other.

By the time our lips part, Winter owns more than just my loyalty.

I pull out, and it draws a gasp from her.

“Don’t worry, I’m not done with you yet,” I murmur.

It earns me a chuckle from Winter. Sitting up, she says, “First, I need food.”

I pull her off the bed as I get up, and when I open the closet and Winter sees my clothes, she asks, “You moved in?”