Sancte Diaboli: Part One (The Elite Kings Club Book 6)

by Amo Jones

  I groan. “Saint…” There have been numerous times that I’ve thought about having her exactly like this. In front of me. At my fucking mercy. But the truth of the matter is, I don’t deserve her. What I need, she will never be able to give me.

  “Brantley?” She tugs me lower, and I abide, the tip of my nose touching hers. “Kiss me.”

  My jaw tenses. Fuck it. I wrap my fingers around the back of her neck, my other arm around her tiny waist. I could snap her with a simple flick of my wrist. Having something so fucking delicate in the palm of my tactless hands sends a rush of power sizzling through me. Tsk, tsk. This is why I’m bad for her. My lips brush hers.

  “Once I put my mouth on you, you’re fucked.” Her smell is intoxicating. A potent concoction of sweet and illicit, the kind of smell you want on the tip of your tongue. The kind of smell you can taste.

  “It doesn’t matter to me.” The curve of her soft lips brushes mine.

  That does it. She goes to pull away, but it’s too late, my mouth is on hers. She pauses for a moment before her soft lips start kissing me back. I pull her toward me until I’m back on the bed, and she lands on my lap while spreading her knees wide to straddle me. Her mouth never releases from mine, her tongue curling around mine every few seconds like she’s done this numerous times before. I know she hasn’t. I fucking know she hasn’t. I pull back, leaning on the mattress with one elbow, my eyes on hers. Flicking my tongue over my lips, I soak in every bit of what she’s left behind. She sits here on my lap, open to me. Without a word.

  “You don’t want this…” I murmur, as much as it fucking pains me to say it. My cock is rock hard, and I tilt my hips up, rubbing it against the center of her thighs.

  Her eyes close, rolling to the back of her head. Jesus fucking fuck. My hand flies up before I can stop it, clutched around her throat. Her eyes slowly open, latching on to mine like a trap. She doesn’t jump. There’s no flash of panic on her face. She’s completely still, locked in the trance we’ve started. A trance that could end us both. We could do this, have this, but for what? I can’t offer her anything more than what she already gets from me, and just sayin’ that’s already a fucking lot.

  “You don’t want this,” I repeat, my hand secure around her throat. It looks good there. The veins pulse beneath my flesh, her jugular throbbing against my palm.

  “How can you be so sure?” she asks, and then I see red when she tugs her bottom lip between her teeth and sinks them into it.

  Tensing my grip around her throat, I pull her down on top of me, my hands cupping her ass when her mouth is back on mine. I know I have to take this carefully, and I don’t do fucking careful, but it’s Saint.

  Fuck.

  With the battle rumbling deep inside of me, I do nothing to push her away. My hands find her curves, her ass, her thighs. Dipping beneath her shorts, I squeeze her ass cheeks roughly, biting on her lower lip while grinding my dick up into her. She rubs herself over me and I know what she needs. Why she came in here. She didn’t mean to kiss me, or wrap her sinful legs around my waist while whispering sweet fucking nothings directly into my mouth.

  She needed release.

  I deepen the kiss, her fingers at my neck, in my hair, down my already damp chest. She rolls her hips over me with control, but I squeeze her hips and take it back, directing her over my girth with slow, pressured strokes.

  “Fuck.” I need to bite down on something to stop myself from focusing on the way my piercings feel grazing over her pussy. She drops her mouth onto mine again, feeding me her sexy little moans, and I eat them up like I’ve been fasting and she’s the feast I’ve always wanted. Which she is.

  “Brantley…”

  My grip tenses, and out of complete fucking impulse, I bite down on her lip, dragging it into my mouth until the first drop of blood spills over the tip of my tongue. Her moans deepen in my mouth, and I don’t even have time to fucking realize I hurt her. I don’t care, and more importantly, she doesn’t seem to either…

  I have two options right here, right now.

  I could let her dry hump me into a fucking bad mood and take out my aggression in the gym, or I could give her exactly what she and I both want: me buried inside of her so fucking deep that she’d feel the indentation of my cock every time she fucking breathes for the next few weeks.

  I go with the latter. My hands come back to her ass as I lift us both off the bed, spin around, and throw her down on her back while undoing the button on my jeans.

  “Do you have a condom?” she asks, her hair wild, cheeks flushed, and lips swollen from all the kisses I just stole.

  “What’d you just say?” I bite out harshly, the words leaving her lips like a bucket of ice-cold water.

  “Don’t we have to use a condom?” she whispers again, not catching my obvious switch in mood.

  My fingers hover over the band of my jeans, but I release, allowing my arms to drop to either side of my body. “You already assumed that I’d fuck you?” I snarl angrily, my lip curled. Now in hindsight, I know I’m being irrational, but I don’t give a fuck. It bothers me that the word condom left her mouth. It fucking bothers me that all it took was for me to kiss her and she’d open her legs for me, even though that’s what I wanted. I had every plan to tear her in half and take what I know I want.

  “Wh—what?” She flinches around the words, her shoulders falling and her eyes welling with unshed tears. Fuck. “I thought…”

  “Get out,” I say, shaking my head. She doesn’t hesitate, crawling off my bed and making her way to the door. I fall down onto the mattress, my hand in my hair and my thoughts running fucking rampant. I feel feral. Like a caged fucking beast being taunted with something, anything, maybe even the one thing it has always wanted but could never have.

  “Brantley,” she says gently, and I feel that anger simmer as guilt begins to wash in.

  Flexing my neck to the side, I stand to my feet and take the steps needed to reach her. She cowers the closer I get, the confusion evident, sprawled out over her features. I don’t blame her. I’m being inconsistent. The battle I’m fighting is rearing its ugly head and trying to expose itself.

  She opens the door softly, but I bring my hand up and slam it closed. She turns, resting her back against it while tucking her hands behind herself.

  “I thought you said get out…” she murmurs, and even as the words leave her and penetrate the distance between us, I wave them off.

  “Yeah?” I bring my other hand up to the other side of her head. “I also said that once I put my mouth on you, that you’re fucked.” I keep my eyes on her. I want to test the boundaries I think she has and see how far she will go. “Remove your shorts.”

  With her iceberg eyes on mine, she hooks her thumbs beneath the waistband of her shorts, pushing them down. I crack, tilting my head downward to watch as the silk gathers around her feet in a pool of innocence. Innocence lost is a sin gained.

  My lips curve in a smirk as I slowly trail my eyes up her body, past her breasts and back to her eyes. I push one hand off the door and bring my fingers beneath her chin. She’s not like the others. She will never, ever be like anything or anyone I would have touched—ever. Which makes the touching all the more illicit. “Show me what you do when you’re alone.”

  “What?” Her cheeks glow with a bite of pink, but I know she knows what I’m asking.

  My breathing is shallow, my chest rising and falling as she slowly brings her hand around to her front. I push off of the door, taking two steps away from her. “Take off your shirt, too.”

  Before her fingers find her middle, she wraps them around the hem of her shirt and pulls it over her head, her hair cascading down her back slowly, as she leans back against my door.

  I bite down on my cheek to stop from groaning out loud, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. I fist the sheets in my hand as her chest swells and deflates with each breath she takes. “What do you want me to do?”

  I take a beat. One. Two. Three. Fucking pull
your shit together, Brantley. Spreading my legs wide, I lean my head against the side of one of the pillars to my bed. “I think you know what I want you to do.”

  She leans against the door lazily, unaffected by my presence, as if she’s been naked around me hundreds of times. She exudes confidence, and I inhale every fucking bit of it. Her body is crafted from a goddess, shaped with a scalpel and kissed by angels. Nothing but the glint of her million-dollar diamond necklace touches her skin, and I have to fight with every-fucking-thing inside of me to not move across the room and suck on every bit of her exposed skin.

  Her fingers move to her front. I’m not at all surprised that she shaves. There’s not one speck of a flaw on her body, so clean. Too clean. I need to rub my filth over her and fuck her until she bleeds.

  I groan at the thought, my eyes rolling back as I sit up slightly to adjust my raging fucking cock from splitting open the seams to my jeans. I pull them down a little, to hang just above where my pelvic dips, before going back to distracting myself. Squeezing the sheets just might save her life.

  A whimper leaves her mouth as her back arches off the door. Her fingers are over her pussy, her thumb rubbing slow little circles over her clit as her other fingers pinch her nipples.

  “Fuck this.”

  I push off the bed and move back to the front of her, and when she opens her eyes, I’m slightly surprised by the burning fire that exposes itself. Not in a way that is desperate, but more controlled. Like a purring cat, knowing she’s going to get her stroke. I grab the same hand she’s rubbing herself with and bring it to my lips. Dragging it between my teeth, I lick her taste off her fingers and bite down on the tip of her index finger.

  “I’m not going to fuck you, Dea, but you’re sure as fuck going to wish I would.” I pick her up from the backs of her thighs and spin her around, laying her on her back on the floor. I wanted to throw her down, but again, I have to control my outbursts. She lies spread on my floor, both hands cupping her breasts while her knees are stuck together. I rest my hands on them and spread her wide, slowly lowering myself down onto her body.

  “Wait!” Her hands fly to my chest and I have to fight back my snarl.

  “What?”

  She chews on her lip nervously. “I—uh—I’m on birth control, but I’ve got my period right now, and if you’re about to do what I think you’re about—”

  I chuckle, running my index finger over her tiny little slit. “You did not just fucking bait me.” I rub her clit slowly until her back is lifting off the floor in a high arch.

  “Faster,” she whispers.

  “Shut up,” I mock before stopping and continuing down toward her entry. “Trust me?”

  “What? I—” She pauses. “Yes. Shit.”

  I grin up at her, wrapping my finger around the string that’s hanging out, and tug on it. Tossing it to the side, I make my way up her body, whacking her hand away from one breast and sucking her nipple into my mouth.

  “Oh my—” She’s cut off when my other hand comes to her mouth, silencing her as my tongue twists around her nub in fast strokes. She tilts her hips up to grind against me and I lose it, pressing my cock into her as her other leg wraps around my waist.

  Moving to the other side, I release her mouth and repeat my ministrations on her other breast. She’s grinding herself over my cock and it throbs, liquid spilling from my tip every time she rolls over my piercings. Fuck this. I need this over with or I’m going to hurt her, fuck her and then probably not regret it. Trailing my tongue down her sternum, I pass her belly button and hit where her middle meets her thighs. Spreading her legs wide, I push down on her upper thighs as I lick up the inside of one, reaching that connection again. I look up at her as she leans up on her elbows, her brows pulled in as she watches intently, her belly rising and falling and her abs tensing. I sink my teeth into the smooth skin and watch as her head tilts back, the organs beneath the flesh of her neck stretching. Fuck. My mouth waters as I lick and suck up the small blood droplets from my bite, before slowly moving to her center.

  “Brantley, are you sure this—” Her words are cut off when my tongue hits her clit.

  I circle it slowly at first, before covering her with my mouth. I suck on her clit while pressing my tongue against her roughly and she falls to the floor with a smack. I chuckle around the strokes, my cock so close to exploding I’m not so fucking sure this was a good idea. Heat rushes throughout my blood, my balls tightening with every passing second. I press my hand on her pelvis, leaning down and dipping my tongue inside her entrance. She’s so fucking tight. Her walls tense around my intrusion as the strong bite of metal hits the tip of my tongue. I groan against her pussy, pushing farther against her until her leg is over my shoulder with one hand gripped around her thigh. I don’t realize how hard I’m squeezing her until I release her leg, and my fingers pulse from the freed pressure. That’s gonna bruise. Fucking good. She pants and turns and twists in my grip as I continue to suck and lick every ounce she gives me. Sweat slides down her thighs as I latch back onto her clit, gripping her and turning onto my back, her knees landing on either side of my head. Her hair splays down over her shoulders as she looks down at me between her thighs.

  “Brantley…” she whispers, her hands in my hair.

  “Shut up and ride my face until you come.”

  She bites down on her lip to stifle her smile, but then starts rocking forward and backward over my mouth. Her head tilts back and my hand trails up her spine, finding the ends and wrapping her hair around my fist. I tug on it roughly until her head cranks farther back and she has to lean on my thigh to keep herself up while her hips speed up in rhythm.

  “I’m—I’m—”

  I cover her clit and suck on it as she convuyeahlses, her body spasming around me. Once she’s back down to the land of the living, she slowly crawls off me and I run my tongue over my lips, savoring every bit of her. Sweet, but with a sharp bite of metallic. Exactly how I wanted her.

  I remain on my back for seconds after, mentally talking myself out of the bad mood I know I’m going to be in. I need to fuck something. When I pull back up on my elbows and stand to my feet, my swollen cock throbbing in the palm of my hand through my jeans, I fall back onto my bed. “Out, Saint.”

  “What? I can, you know—”

  I look up to find her staring at my dick. It doesn’t fucking help.

  “Just get out.”

  I was wrong, I was going to regret it, but not for the reasons I thought I would. She doesn’t reply, and the sound of my door clicking shut triggers the rest of the nightmares that I have that night.

  Click.

  Saint

  I half contemplated leaving the dogs home today. I needed space and time. Time to figure out what went wrong last night. Shame curtains my vision as I take a left onto the trail in the woods. “C’MON” by Amy Shark and Travis Barker plays loudly in my ears, the sound of her vocals almost enough to make me forget about everything last night. But just as I forget, I taste him. My blood and his mouth. I feel his hands on my body, so rough and dominating, his mouth in other places… but the poisonous aftertaste of the words he said after leave the strongest tang. “Just get out,” and then the look that came with it. My heart stung so bad I almost thought the pain was physical. I’d never experienced that emotion before. The wound was in my heart, but the pain bled down to my gut and spun it around and around like a washing machine.

  My feet gain speed, sweat pelting off me as the early morning sun slowly reveals itself behind the curtain of clouds. Bright orange hues inflame the dark sky as another day arrives. I’m passing the graveyard and entering the property through the back when I finally stop, tearing out my earbuds and leaning over, my hands on my knees. The truth is, I went into that room for one thing and one thing only. And it was all because of that damn dream. I didn’t like it.

  He wore nothing but a dark hoodie and a scarf around his face. Either that or I couldn’t see. I reached for his face, but nothing tou
ched my fingers.

  Weird.

  I knew I was dreaming. I almost always knew when I was dreaming while I was having them. His body was over the top of mine, heavy. So heavy that he pushed mine into the mattress. My stomach churned. Something wasn’t right.

  He reached between my legs, his fingers grazing over my most private area, and just when I thought he was going to push away, his fingers dove inside of me forcefully. I screamed so loud fire burned out of my chest, but that didn’t stop him. I throbbed below. It stung. It hurt. He did something with his fingers before I felt my skin tear and liquid seep over my upper thighs. He tore my virginity from my body like it was his to take.

  I woke after that. My pulse was racing so fast I thought I might actually die. Harder than what it is now after running for two hours straight. After waking, I checked under the blankets, cupping myself and wincing while the feel and sound of that tear vibrated through my ears. Tears spread down my cheeks, and I didn’t know why. I needed something—anything to take away the memory the dream left on my skin. I hated that it was the last thing I felt. Then I heard Brantley yell, and it was my name that came out.

  Now I wish I didn’t go in there. I should have gone back to sleep, or at the very least tried. I went to him without knowing, for comfort, and I left with more pain in my heart than I could cope with.

  I unlatch the dogs from their leads so they can go to their water fountain, gazing up at the gym that’s on the top floor. I find Brantley instantly, his back turned to me. He’s leaning on the glass, his phone to his ear.

  Had I always felt this way about him? I’m starting to think maybe yes. It didn’t matter, though, because he made it abundantly clear last night that he did not think that about me. Or maybe he just wasn’t attracted to me like that, which was why he pushed me away.