Page 45 of Desecrated Saints
“I don’t care what you want. I’ll kill them and take you for myself,” he warns.
“Then we’re going to have a problem, aren’t we?”
“Even better.”
Closing the gap between us, the lightest brush of lips has me combusting from sexual tension. It’s all I need to grab hold of Seven’s shoulders and crush my mouth against his, stealing the kiss I’ve long dreamed of. His tongue seeks access that I quickly grant.
We dissolve into a frenzy. He’s devouring me like we could be dragged apart at any moment. I can taste the coffee he’s developed an obsession with on his tongue. When his hand sneaks beneath my shirt to stroke the underside of my braless breasts, I gasp against his lips.
“Brooke? You good back there?” Phoenix calls.
I break the kiss. “Yeah… all good!”
Retreating footsteps slow my panicked heartbeat. I sigh with relief, looking up to find Seven glaring at me. He quickly grabs my wrist so tight, I yelp. He’s grinding the bones together. The softness in him has dissipated, replaced with animalistic rage.
“Are you ashamed of me?”
"No, of course not.”
“You think I won’t break the necks of your men if that’s what it takes to have you? I’ll kill them, Eight. One by one. You can watch as I choke the life from their broken corpses. Will you still yearn for me then?”
Before Seven can react, I slam my fist into his face. He topples off the bench, spitting blood from his split lip. Advancing without mercy, I straddle his body and punch him again. The sight of his blood spreading across the floor has my entire body humming with satisfaction.
“You don’t have to kill your way through life, Sev! There are people who care about you. I care about you. But nobody threatens the lives of those I love, not even you.”
“You kissed me,” he accuses.
“You kissed me first!”
Dipping a finger in his warm, slick blood, I draw it across my lips until I’m coated in his vitality. Claimed. Tainted. Owned. His blood sinks beneath my skin and ties our souls together with an unbreakable bond forged in the darkest depths of Augustus’s basement.
Seven watches with wide eyes. I resist licking my lips, leaning in to press them against his. Grabbing handfuls of his untameable hair, I tug until he hisses with pain. His hand wraps around my throat, caressing my vein, ready and ripe for the taking.
“Do it,” I command. “I dare you.”
“If I kill you, I will never know what your pussy tastes like.”
He releases his grip on my throat and shoves me aside. I roll and manage to find my feet, preparing for a blow that never comes. Seven stares at me like I’m a puzzle he can’t fathom, confusion marked across his expression. He wipes his lips before fleeing the room like his life depends on it.
“Sev, wait!”
He ignores me and disappears back under the plastic sheet. I’m left alone, gaping at the blood-stained place where he laid, wondering how the fuck I’m going to convince four men that barely manage to share, to add a fifth.
That, or Seven kills them.
Blackwood was fucking simpler than this.
CHAPTER 10
BROOKLYN
LOST - OLLIE
The sand is soft beneath my feet, grains of cheap amusement for the child version of me sitting several metres away. With white-blonde hair scraped up into pigtails, my dad scoops her up before spinning her around in a circle.
“Brooooke! The best princess in the realm.”
“Daddy, stop!” she screams.