No Saint (Blood Legion MC Book 3)

by Rie Warren

  He swung me up in his arms and strode back toward the bar.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To my room. Where do you think?” Prowling with animal-like grace, he didn’t let me go until we were locked inside his bedroom.

  Raucous noise filtered up from the bar, and my heart thundered in my ears.

  I was so worked up for him, my nipples pebbled tight as I rubbed against his broad chest, sliding down his hard body.

  My feet on the floor, we wasted no time attacking one another’s clothes. Every chance we got, we lunged for greedy wet kisses, tongues plundering hungrily.

  Saint ripped off my panties while I threw off my bra. I whimpered loudly, pulling frantically at his zipper. He shoved his jeans off, then we were both gloriously naked, and he tackled me to the bed.

  Mouths connected in a fierce kiss, our hands clawed and our bodies writhed.

  God, he was just so big. I ran my hands over a multitude of muscles, moaning when he rolled me on top of him.

  My legs split over him, and his cock slid along my slippery channel.

  A heated gleam made his eyes glassy and almost black, and he held my hair back from my face. I leaned over to kiss him hotly, tongues lashing all over. Then he flipped me to my back again. Hovering above me, Saint’s gaze bore into mine, and he lowered his head to lathe my stingingly aroused areolae.

  I arched my back, tangling my fingers through his hair, and he mouthed even more of my breasts, biting and taking little nips as if to take pieces of me into him.

  Breath labored from my chest, and I moaned loudly.

  He yanked one of my legs high and slithered down my body, biting and kissing and nosing along the way.

  My pussy engorged and open to him, he didn’t tease. He placed his mouth against me and made a tight seal with his tongue lapping all over my swollen pink hotness. I jerked, rocking against his face and those . . . . oh those whiskers. Bristles that tickled and made my body hum.

  Neck craning back, I wept with the quick stabs of his tongue into my soaked entrance.

  I came all over his face, and still he lapped at me. My clit vibrated, feeling as big as a glossy pearl when he pursed his sexy lips around it.

  I grasped him by two handfuls of hair and tried to get him higher.

  I wanted to get him in me.

  Kneeling up, leaving me panting and praying for more, he wrapped a hand around the straining column of his cock.

  That thick girth glistened with precum the fat head kept leaking. His balls looked heavy, his rod ready to fuck, the Prince Albert piercing a spectacularly sexy adornment.

  I swallowed, drawing my legs up and open to invite him inside me.

  His gaze locked on my needy pussy, and his voice came out low and gruff when he muttered, “Fuck. I wanted it to be slower.”

  Sheer weeks of desperation made any restraint impossible.

  “I don’t care. Just fuck me, Saint.”

  His hand polished his thick pole. “I don’t wanna use a goddamn condom.”

  “Then don’t.” Half sitting up, I yanked him to me.

  I pulled him into my kiss as I settled on my back with him directly over me.

  Breaking apart with a groan, his eyes gleamed with an even hotter flash of desire.

  “You sure?” he asked.

  “I got on the pill for you. Do it. Fuck me.”

  When he strengthened his grip on his shaft and angled the big cockhead down, his piercing rolled over my clit, and I shuddered.

  “Jesus.” He grunted, sheathing himself impossibly deep, stretching me impossibly wide. “You feel so good like this.”

  I yelled out at the first intrusion, my pussy rippling in waves around him.

  He didn’t stop to ask me if I was okay.

  He simply grinded that masterful cock into me before slipping back through my clutching tissue.

  With another power-thrust, he forced my body to take him completely, and I moaned because it was so . . . damn . . . good.

  I undulated beneath him, my aroused nipples catching on the hairs on his chest.

  The soles of my feet ran along the powerful backs of his thighs, and I reached low to feel the flexing muscles of his glutes.

  The sheer length and breadth of his cock never ceased to astound me. Stun me. Arouse me.

  I craved him like a drug, a hot fantasy come to life.

  He drilled into me over and over, each thrust tunneling into me and toppling me over.

  I clung to him tightly, but when he powered up to both fists to swing his groin faster with heavy thuds of his body blasting into mine, I cried out in ecstasy.

  He was right there, swearing and plunging wildly. He jutted into me, rooting cock-deep, and then he jetted into me.

  Ohhh. He was so beautiful, body straining as muscles stood out all over. His cum was so hot, thick pulses streaming right inside of me.

  My nails dug into his back, and he roared as his lips pulled back from his teeth in a snarl so sexual, I spun out again to milk that throbbing rod so deep inside of me.

  Saint groaned, flexing a few more times. I was so full of everything that was him, my entire body shivered then went completely lax.

  He collapsed on top of me before sliding off to the side.

  His hand fell heavily to my waist. “The no condom thing is fucking awesome.”

  I snuffled a laugh, turning my head to see his lips parted in a smug smile.

  “You’re not the one with a load of cum trickling out of you.”

  “Can’t say I’m sorry about that.” He squeezed my waist before pulling me on top of him. “You liked it though, so I don’t think you want an apology.”

  I traced one of the tats on his shoulder, whispering near his ear, “You made me come so hard, Saint. I can still feel you inside me.”

  Groaning, he slit his eyes at me. “That’s just the way to make sure you get banged again tonight, babe.”

  “And who says romance is dead?”

  He chuckled. “Funny girl.” Letting out a deep relaxed sigh, he jostled me. “Can you stay the night?”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “What about Caleb?”

  I silenced him with my lips pressed softly against his. “Momma Joan’s home. Caleb knows where I am. He was on my case about getting back together with you anyway.”

  “Was he now?” Saint’s lips quirked into a grin. “Smart kid. I knew I liked him for a reason.”

  “Mm hmm. Are we sleeping now?”

  “With you all naked in my bed, and my cum leaking out of you?” He gave me one hell of a wicked smirk before drawing my hand down to his thickening erection. “What do you think?”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  SAINT

  AFTER A NIGHT OF hot loving, Honoré was exactly where she was supposed to be—still fast asleep in my bed. Guessed I’d worn her out.

  Nice. Just the way I liked it.

  ’Course, it would be even better waking up next to her at her house. To have that whole family thing going on.

  She loves me. Hot damn.

  Holy hot damn.

  But none of that mattered if I couldn’t figure out some way to get Ripper untangled from our lives.

  Seemed pretty fucking impossible considering she had a kid with the jack-hole.

  I climbed out of bed and covered Honoré with a light blanket. After pulling on some clothes, I left her with a gentle kiss on her cheek.

  She snuffed and sleepily swatted me away, which was just too damn adorable.

  Adorable.

  Yup. I was well and truly in love and pretty fucking happy about it too.

  Downstairs, I headed into the kitchen. Sol—who seemed to never sleep—had cooked up some eggs and bacon and made the coffee.

  He gave me one of those big toothy grins, showcasing all the dentures. “Be happy to fix up some vittles for your lady when she gets up.”

  I tucked in, thanking him.

  Angel showed up, helping himself to a giant plat
ter of chow, immediately followed by Revenge who hit me with a fist bump.

  “All good with Honoré now?” he asked.

  I snorted. “Like you nosy bastards don’t already know. Saw you with your faces plastered to the windows out to the courtyard last night.”

  Revenge broke into a grin and polished his knuckles on his chest. “I’d like to take some credit for her comin’ around.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Told her you were being a fucking sad-sack without her.” He laughed, Angel joining in.

  Well, he wasn’t wrong. And if he’d said something to sway Honoré my way, I probably owed him some thanks.

  Not that I’d ever tell the gloating fucker that.

  I glanced at Angel who was busy shoveling food into his mouth. “Doesn’t Mercy feed you at home?”

  “I don’t chain her to the stove or anything.” He took a sip of the scalding coffee. Then he got a weird secretive look on his face. “’Sides, she was feeling a little off yesterday morning.”

  “Speaking of the missus, what does she carry?” I took my empty plate to the sink and rinsed it off before pouring another mug of java.

  “Her blade,” he said in a duh tone.

  “I meant for a gun.”

  He slid a sly grin my way. “Shiiit. Shotgun. Just like me.”

  I couldn’t picture Honoré lugging around a shotgun. Wasn’t really a subtle choice, unless she kept it stuffed in her guitar case.

  “What about a lady piece?”

  Revenge hooted and grabbed his crotch. “I gots a piece for the ladies right ch’ere.”

  “I’m talkin’ about if she has to defend herself against Ripper.”

  “Still can’t get over the fact your enemy is her ex.” Angel looked about as unhappy about that detail as I was.

  “Get used to it. And after last time, I really need her to be able to defend herself if . . .” I shook my head.

  I didn’t wanna consider what the worst-case scenario might be with Ripper involved.

  A pall of seriousness settled over the kitchen, and both men threw out a slew of pistol suggestions.

  Sol was no help. He still carried some antique from the antebellum era.

  In the end, I decided the easiest thing to do would be to lend her one of mine. It wouldn’t be totally legit, but priority number one was her safety.

  The law could bite me.

  ****

  By the time I went upstairs to deliver her some breakfast, she’d roused and even showered.

  Bummer. I’d missed sexy shower times with her. Still needed to cross that one off my sex-with-Honoré bucket list.

  After she’d packed some food away while we sat at the little table on the wrought iron balcony, I took her back inside.

  She glanced at the bed we’d torn up last night. “You’re not thinking about getting me back in the sack, are you? Because I do love you, but I think you broke my pussy last night.”

  “What?” Pulling her into a hug, I ran my hands down to squeeze her ripe backside. “I was gentle.”

  “The hell you were.” Her light blue eyes twinkled.

  “You weren’t complaining.”

  “I definitely wasn’t,” she purred. “But I can still feel you all over me.”

  “That ain’t a bad thing.” Not a bad thing at all, if you asked me.

  Her hands roamed up over my chest to lock behind my neck. “It’s not a bad thing, Saint. But I should get home to Caleb soon.”

  “I’ll come with.”

  “Don’t you have a tattoo parlor to run or something?”

  “It’s Sunday.”

  “And you don’t open on Sundays?” Her whispery little kiss to my jaw fed the beast in my jeans, and I got even harder after all the sex talk.

  “Maybe not this Sunday.” I squeezed her ass hard then swooped down to kiss her wet and fast before drawing back. “Anyway, I wanted to give you something.”

  “I just told you—”

  “Not my dick, baby. At least not until later.” Winking at her, I drifted over to my closet and pulled down my gun case.

  Unlocking it, I settled on the Glock for her. Pocketing a box of bullets, I turned back to her.

  “Uhh. Should I be worried?” Her eyes widened on the gun.

  “I think you should have a weapon.”

  “Is this more of you being romantic?” Her lips twitched.

  “I’m being serious, Honoré. I’m not comfortable with you going around unprotected.”

  “I don’t want to carry a gun. You’re crazy. Not to mention it’s illegal because I don’t have a license.”

  “Even better. If anything happens”—I felt ice cold at the thought—“it’s my gun. I take the blame.”

  She backed away from me, her hands raised. “I wouldn’t know the first thing about how to use it.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll show you the ropes.” I shoved the Glock into my waistband and eased her hand into mine.

  “Now?”

  “No time like the present. C’mon.”

  She balked a little more then finally agreed.

  By the time we got down to the courtyard, Angel had already set up the bottles and recruited Mercy to help.

  Revenge was there too, either for the free entertainment or because he was really invested in Honoré’s safety. Probably both.

  Honoré glanced at the liquor bottles perched in front of the back wall. “This is your gun range?”

  “Yeah. Why?” I shrugged.

  “What if I shoot someone by accident?”

  “Not gonna happen. Look, Mercy’s here to help. She’ll demonstrate exactly what to do.” I figured Honoré might be more comfortable with a woman showing her instead of me mansplaining shit.

  “She can’t show me!” Honoré protested.

  “Why not? ’Cause she’s a girl or something? That’s stupid. She’s one of the best shooters I’ve ever seen.” I frowned at Honoré then looked at Mercy.

  Mercy had that same weird expression on her face that Angel had worn earlier.

  “Oh yeah. I’d like to see some girl-on-girl action.” Revenge cut in.

  “We’re talking about guns, man. Not anything else.” I reminded the horndog.

  “Still hot.”

  “Because she’s pregnant!” Honoré yelled, pointing right at Mercy.

  I blinked widely. “What?”

  “What’d you say?” Revenge stood at attention just like me.

  “I snuck downstairs earlier when I woke up and you were gone.” Honoré dropped her voice. “She was turning green in the hallway. Then I saw her rushing to the bathroom. Morning sickness. Just a hunch.”

  Angel hooked an arm around Mercy’s waist, and she patted her still-flat belly.

  With a tinge of laughter in her tone, she said, “Well, you would know, being a mom and all.”

  Honoré chuckled. “Damn, you’re calling me out like that?”

  Mercy giggled too, and Angel merely grinned.

  “Ah told Angel we should wait.” Mercy knocked her elbow against his ribs.

  “Really?” Honoré asked.

  “Not.” Gazing with one hundred percent pure shining love at her hubby, Mercy smiled. “Would you say no to him?”

  Honoré cleared her throat a little before saying, “Nope.”

  I rocked back on my heels and scowled. “I’m standing right here, you know. While you talk about another dude.”

  In unison, both women said, “Yep.”

  Revenge thought that was real fucking hilarious.

  Me? Not so much.

  Then Honoré drew me down to her. She brushed a soft kiss against my lips and left with a lingering swipe of her tongue.

  “No need to be jealous, baby.”

  Ungh. That kiss and the sound of her sultry voice always goddamn got to me.

  Ego soothed, I marched up to Angel to slap him on the back. “You sly dog.”

  After another round of questions concerning the due date and whether they were fin
ding out the gender and all the baby biz we were getting used to after Grace and Slade and Haven, it was time to teach Honoré the ins and outs of shooting.

  A patient teacher, Mercy carefully stepped her through gun safety before moving on to anything else. She kept things light whereas I probably would’ve drawn a stick figure of Ripper to use for target practice.

  Eventually, Honoré handled the Glock herself. And she didn’t look half as shaky as I expected. Mercy positioned Honoré in front of her and guided her on how to home in on the target.

  With Mercy directing the shot, Honoré hit the first bottle clean through the middle.

  She flinched at the recoil but then jumped up and down. “We hit it!”

  “You hit it.” Mercy stepped back from her. “Now get the next one.”

  Pretty face creased in concentration, Honoré raised the Glock. She squinted down the barrel and pulled the trigger.

  When the bottle smashed into shattered pieces, I let out a loud whistle. Revenge hollered. Angel nodded and clapped.

  “That’s not so hard,” Honoré said, making sure to press the safety back on before turning to face me.

  “Told ya.”

  “I can do it.”

  “’Course you can. You can do anything.” I leaned back against the picnic table, pleased with her progress.

  “Can I shoot another?”

  Notching my head toward the remaining targets, I said, “Go ahead then.”

  She missed the third and cursed herself mightily, but then blasted away the last two with no problems whatsoever.

  I couldn’t have been prouder or more relieved.

  Not to mention a little turned on.

  Revenge was right about one thing, watching my woman handle a piece with confidence was damn hot.

  Maybe giving Honoré a gun wasn’t exactly a romantic gesture, but I didn’t trust Ripper one little bit. Not when he practically pounded down her door in the middle of the night and flung vile insults about his own people.

  As far as I was concerned, loving her meant keeping her, Caleb, and MJ safe. And keeping them safe was now my life’s mission.

  Besides, I had another gun, cocked and loaded, for Honoré to play with later.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  HONORÉ

  BLISS. THE DAYS AFTERWARD were completely blissful and peaceful in a way I’d never experienced. Peaceful, except when Saint and I found enough time and adequate privacy to get down and dirty.