Page 72 of Tainted Saints

The restraint we show is fucking admirable given how long we’ve been without her, but she needs care right now. The fucking can come later.

“Are you hungry, Duchess?” I ask, drawing her attention back to me, and fuck if it’s not like having the sun shine down on your face after a long, cold winter.

“Yes, always if you’re offering to make me something,” she answers, tucked under Blaine’s arm as he finally gets his turn with her.

“You guys sit down, I’ll make us some food,” I tell them, my mind already on what I can make her to feed her back up. From what I’ve seen and what Blaine tells us, her mother barely lets her eat when she’s at home.

I start making some pizza, having made up a batch of dough this morning before we left, and I can feel her eyes on me as I spin it out into the right shape. Moments later there’s a warmth at my back as her slender arms wrap me in a hug from behind, her intoxicating scent of spring woods easing my soul in a way that nothing before ever has.

“What do you like on your pizza, Duchess?” I ask her, spreading some homemade sauce on the first base.

“Just cheese and tomato please, with some basil?” she replies, and I smile at how simple her tastes are. She gets enjoyment from the basics of life, which is something not many people can say. Often they are too concerned with making shit complicated, unable to see the beauty right in front of them.

“One margarita coming up,” I joke, leaning back into her hold as I place the rest of the ingredients onto the pizza and then get to making one each for the guys and myself.

Placing them in the pizza oven that I saved up for and installed last year, I twist and grab her before she can go back to sitting with the others.

“Have you been practising for tomorrow night?” I ask as I gaze down at her. God, she’s so beautiful it almost hurts to look at her sometimes.

“A little,” she confesses, biting her lower lip that has a small growl leaving my throat. I tug it out with my thumb, soothing over the small wound.

“Only I’m allowed to bite this lip,” I tell her, and the way her pupils dilate lets me know exactly how much my orders turn her on. Fuck, she really is perfect for me, for us.

“Yes, sir,” she answers, keeping those beautiful green eyes on me. I love how she makes me feel like I hung the moon for her, and I would. Or burn down the world, whichever she desired. Either way, it would happen.

“Good girl,” I praise, watching the shiver that takes over her body. God, the effect I have on her is intoxicating in and of itself.

The smell of cooked pizza starts to waft around us, so I let her go, taking them out of the oven and knowing that they’re cooked to perfection. I have a sixth sense about cooking, or so Mama says, always have. And I love to feed others, watching them enjoy my food is one of life’s greatest pleasures.

“God that smells so fucking good,” she groans, hovering by me as I cut hers into slices. Something in me preens at her praise, at the way that I can feed her like no other, take care of her in the way I know how.

“Glad you approve, beautiful,” I tell her, plating up hers first with a side salad and then taking it over to the table even though she keeps trying to snatch it out of my hands.

“I can carry my own food, you know,” she huffs but sits down anyway, and then looks down with a small smile when I arch a brow at her. Brat.

After we’ve eaten, she sits back, patting her still very flat stomach—I make a note to myself to feed her at least five more times before she leaves tomorrow—then she sits up with a jerk.

“What about family dinner?” she gasps, looking up at the clock and seeing that it’s close to the time that we’d need to leave.

“We can skip tonight, sugar,” Forest says, and Blaine and I readily agree. It would be a first, but I’m sure they’ll cope.

“Not a chance!” she scolds, and I can’t even hide my smile at how damn adorable she is when she tells us off. “It’s family dinner, we have to go.”

“Okay, Duchess. As you wish.” I chuckle, grabbing her half-full plate and taking it over to the counter with mine. “Let’s go eat again.”

ChapterThirty-One

“He’s a Tramp” by Peggy Lee

ASPEN

We spendthe rest of the evening with the Tainted Saints crew, and I once again marvel at how much of a family they are. Sure, they’re not related by blood, but sometimes chosen family is the strongest kind, an unbreakable bond that stands firm against all kinds of storms.

We get back late, and my body is exhausted even if my mind wants to stay awake and enjoy my guys. It’s like my body knows we can rest easy here, that we are finally safe and protected from all the monsters that plague my life back at the Ambassador’s residence.

“Sleep,mi tesoro.” Blaine chuckles when I yawn for what feels like the twentieth time.

“But—”

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