No longer gentle

No longer gentle


Saint ran the bath and dropped heavenly scented bath salts into the water. Silently, I sat on the chair he'd brought in, demanding I sit while he handled running the water. Every once in a while, he would peer up at me, smiling as if he knew something I didn't. I was content just to watch, and the fact that he'd stripped down to only jeans didn't hurt the view.

"You could have told me, Brat."

"Told you what? That my father wanted to breed me? Or that he beat me and enjoyed cutting the flesh from my body in small patches to ensure maximum agony was reached during his 'sessions' as he preferred to call them. You'd have tried to save me because you loved me. You'd have died, and I would have stopped fighting to live if you no longer existed in my world."

"We could have run, Brat. You didn't have to suffer in silence," he returned, sitting on the edge of the tub to stare at me.

"My father would have murdered the children, including Chaos, who neither of us knew existed at the time. We both suffered, but we survived him. The monsters that fought so hard to destroy us are dead and buried. You and I are still here. We won. I wish you'd have known so that when I stood in front of the pack and said I didn't love you, you'd have known what I meant was I would never stop loving you, Saint. I loved you enough to let you go live without me, even though you would have done so hating me. The thing is, you'd have to live to think I hated you."

"I thought you'd realized I was beneath you. That summer with you, it was the best time of my entire life. That time I spent with you, sneaking around and kissing you when no one else was watching us? That kept me fighting to live, Brat. The thought of coming back here, and stealing you, and showing you that you were mine. That is what kept me fighting and alive."

"I loved you, Saint. Making you think otherwise broke me, too. I would rather be set on fire again than ever see the look of betrayal and pain in your eyes on that day. My father was the only person who had ever kept his promises to me, and when he did, people died or suf-fered. No one ever saw the monster staring out from his eyes. He would have killed you, and I'd have been forced to watch it happen."

Saint nodded, knowing it was the truth. My father had his people here, mixed in among the pack. It was also why I hadn't killed him. I had to know who supported my father and would be against the hos-tile takeover 1 had been planning. Saint spun toward the faucet, turn-ing it off.

"Strip, Brat," he demanded, smirking as I stood.

"You're bossy, asshole," I muttered.

He grinned, placing his hands on the tub to lean back. His cyan blue stare slid to my hands as I pulled my shirt off over my head. Ner-vousness rushed through me the moment his gaze dropped to the per-fectly rounded baby bump. My breasts were larger, and my hips had spread, creating a mass of awkward curves. Reaching for the band of my jeans, he smiled at finding them unbuttoned.

"You are absolutely beautiful with my babe growing within you, Brat," he reassured, sensing the uneasiness I felt. "I imagined you like this, us together, and you carrying our child. I never thought it would happen, not even after I'd escaped. You haunted me more than any ghost ever could." He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing at his words. Standing, he watched me slowly walk to him.

"You haunted me too, Saint. I dreamed that you were out there somewhere with someone else. I dreamed that you had a family, and you were happy without me. I wanted that for you, even though it was a nightmare that I dreamed."

He laughed, watching me. "What the hell were the gods thinking putting something as precious as you, with something as rough and abrasive as me?"

"They thought our broken edges might just fit together," I said, allowing the tears to trail down my cheeks. I didn't hide the emotions I'd been trained to conceal since before I could remember. His hands cupped my face, wiping away the tears.

"I think they knew that we would end up together when it was time," he whispered, leaning over to brush his mouth against mine. His kiss was gentle and seeking. I opened to him, allowing him to claim my lips. He wrapped his arms around my lower back, lifting me as he moved us toward the counter.

He stepped back, sliding his eyes over my body slowly with hunger burning in his lucid blue depths. He flicked his thumb against the but-ton of his jeans, letting them drop to the floor, then stepped out of them, shifting closer to settle between my thighs.

ly. "If you don't want this, you better stop me now," he growled huski-

"Don't stop," 1 whispered, pulling him closer to feel him against me. "You have no idea how freaking horny I've been without anyone to soothe the ache," I admitted, watching his eyes dancing with laugh-ter.

"You didn't handle that ache?" he asked. "I got off thinking about you playing with your pretty pink pussy," he chuckled.

"I'm going to need you to hurry up," I grunted, rocking my hips to indicate he needed to get his dick buried in my warmth. Waiting to forgive him be damned, I needed this release. "I need you, Saint."

He entered me fast and hard, stealing a shocked cry from my lips. My body moved against his, wrapping my legs around his waist as he held me. Saint released a husky growl, and he walked us from the bathroom, through the apartment, and into a massive bedroom deco-rated in calming shades of blue and white. Placing me on the bed, he never left my body as he found the perfect beat with his. We made music as my body began to sing for him. A gasp escaped my lips, and I pleaded for him to do whatever he needed.

"Fucking hell, you're on fire," he growled.

"Harder," I demanded, uncaring that my voice came out strangled with need. Saint captured my hands, threading his fingers through mine while he loomed over me. His eyes held me prisoner, watching as they widened against the way he moved. "Fuck, that feels so good. Just like that, please," I moaned, breathless from the storm he was building inside of me.

Saint held the tempo, slowly rocking against my body while man-aging to ignore the baby bump that I'd feared would make sex awk-ward. He pretended it wasn't there and instead held my gaze as I came undone for him. I lifted my legs, placing my feet flat against the bed to meet his thrusts, whimpering his name as I fell over the cliff. He didn't stop, not even when the pleasure slowly faded.

He withdrew after a few moments, turning me over to adjust me on my hands and knees before he settled behind me. Saint wasn't gen-tle when he entered me from behind. His hands gripped my hips, and he moved in and out of me, anger filling the room with each hurried thrust that slammed against me. His hand lifted from my hip, landing hard against my ass cheek, causing a strangled gasp of surprise to es-cape my throat. It landed again and again before he rubbed the sore cheek.