Page 60 of Property of Saint

Moments later when I lean back to watch my cock disappearing into her pussy, then catching and holding her eyes with mine, watching her face flush as her orgasm’s approaching, I realise what makes this so different with her. We’re not having sex. We’re making love.

Her pussy convulses around my dick taking me over with her. Both sated, I roll to one side, pulling her to me, then wince as her plastered leg knocks against mine.

“You okay?” we both ask together. Then in unison, answer, “Fine.” Chuckling, I gently ease her closer. “You know, when you get that cast off, there are so many other ways I’ll be able to make you mine.”

“Mm-hm?”

“Oh yeah, up against the wall, in the shower…”

“You’re tempting me with a real good time.”

She yawns as she snuggles against me. Me, Saint. The fuck ‘em and run guy. The man who never wanted to be tied down. I’ve seen brothers in the other Kings chapters falling, and always thought they were mad. But it now seems I’m the insane one. The bitch I’m prepared to lay down my life, who I’d forsake all others, for, is the one person I may not be able to keep by my side.

As she dozes, relaxed, my mind keeps racing. There must be some way I can keep her alive.

The next morning, she wakes at a decent hour, while I haven’t really slept. She puts a waterproof sleeve over her cast, and I help her in the shower. It’s a routine we’ve fallen into and one I’m cherishing now, though before her I was a selfish bastard, thinking of myself and never giving aid to anyone else, unless it was a brother.

I can’t keep my hands off her, and she reciprocates. Unable to sink to her knees, she guides me back to the bed, pushes me down, and places her lips around my cock. I’ve had so many bunnies and hangarounds suck my dick before, but no one has ever been able to do it like her.

Love. The reason comes into my head. She wants to please me because of the emotion she feels, and not like she has to excel because she’s chasing a patch. When I give her the chance to pull back, she draws me closer, and I empty myself into her throat, knowing her moans of delight are real, and she’s enjoying my taste as much as I relish hers.

Of course, I reciprocate, though so many times with club bunnies I’ve simply kicked them out after I’ve got my rocks off, but seeing her muscles trembling, feeling her tense, her juices rushing into my mouth is becoming something I live for. Then my cock is ready for round two, followed by three, before exhausted we finally just hold each other tight.

I can’t get enough of her.

If I were to lose her…

I can’t. I just can’t.

Sunlight streams through the gap at the side of the blind. I begin the morning exactly the same way as I ended the night, unable to believe how each time we come together it just seems to get better.

As if we both realise our alone time is over, we shower, dress, me helping her get her jeans pulled up over her cast. Her shoulder doesn’t seem to be bothering her so much now, but I’m mindful she shouldn’t put any stress on it.

Then, with a knowing look to each other, understanding this is yet another day on the countdown, I pass her the crutch and let her make her own way down the stairs, noticing how she’s becoming more agile.

The party had continued after we went up to my room. Paint is lying on a couch with a naked Star unconscious on top of him. Winchester is snoring on a chair, Heaven lying in his lap. Knight appears through the main door, his hand brushing back his hair. I watch him as he surveys the room, then his eyes come to meet mine. His face tightens, and he gives me a chin lift, then starts tidying up, reminding me how much it sucks to be a prospect, seeing the aftermath of a party, while having been unable to partake. Bunnies are off limits to prospects.

To help him out, I cross the room, kicking Winchester’s leg to wake him, and tipping the couch so Star falls off, bringing Paint back to the world with a grunt.

“What the fuck?” Paint stands up and takes a fighting stance, but betrays himself as he wobbles, holds on to the arm of the upturned couch, and places a hand to his clearly aching head. “Er, ‘morning, VP.” He offers a tentative grin. Then to the whore I’d just dislodged, he gives just one instruction, “Get lost, Star.”

Winchester is rousing Heaven with a slap to her ass, then points her toward the door.

“Jeez,” Pippa says softly beside me. “You guys are real gentlemen.” She softens her accusation by chuckling quietly.

I feel a moment’s guilt as before I met her, either brother could have been me. “Wait until they find their one.” I capture her eyes with mine. “Like I have.” She swallows, then blushes. “Yeah,” I tell her. “You’ve ruined me for all others now.”

Holding the hand not gripping her crutch, I guide her into the kitchen. “Wanna test the theory about the way to men’s hearts?”

At my raised brow, she laughs. “You make the pancakes, I’m on eggs and bacon.”

As we work, I switch on the television, turning it to a local news channel. Both of us pause, kitchen utensils held in midair,when we hear her name mentioned, our attention caught by the newscaster. I turn up the volume.

“Three men from Sierra Vista, Arizona, have been arrested and charged with the homicide of Secret Service Agent Phillipa Owens after an SUV was found with dents and scratches, and paintwork matching the car she was driving when she was driven off the road. Both men are known to have been avid supporters of Preston Adams. Bail has been denied.”

I watch her as she stares at the screen. I can’t read what’s going through her mind until she turns and gives me a wide grin. “It wasn’t actually murder, as I didn’t die, but if it hadn’t been for you, Saint, they would have killed me.”

“You burning the car would have given you the chance to get away, even if I hadn’t been there.” I’m not quite sure why I’m advocating for them.

---