Page 101 of Desecrated Saints
“Sev…”
“You know it’s true. I am the least deserving person of redemption.”
“I thought the same.” Hudson finds a small smile.
I nod in agreement. “You convinced every single one of us otherwise. You’ve hurt people, Brooke. Just like the rest of us. But I’m willing to bet my life that you’ve saved just as many.”
The smile I’ve been waiting for blossoms on her lips. She looks too fucking beautiful like that, all shy and furtive, unsure of how to handle being praised for something.
“So the question, love, isn’t how we can love someone like you. It’s how could we not?”
Brushing her short locks, I meet those silvery, gunmetal eyes that always hold so much pain. Everything rests on her answer.
“I love you,” Brooklyn murmurs after a beat. “For longer than I’ve admitted to.”
Her declaration punches me in the chest. I feel like I’ve waited my whole life to hear those words.
“Me too, love. I’m done letting fear rule my life.” I look between the other two. “We face this together. Nobody in this family grieves alone.”
Squirming on my lap, Brooklyn attempts to exit the car. I grab her hips, holding her in place. I should let her go, but I’m fucking selfish. Her scent is a mouth-watering, enchanting fog that drapes over me. She’s the siren calling my corrupted soul towards eternal damnation.
“Kade,” she breathes.
My hand slides further up her dress, a finger hooking under the elastic of her panties. I meet Hudson’s eyes over her shoulder while slowly dragging them down. He’s staring at her with lust. The windows are so heavily tinted, nobody can see what we’re doing from the outside.
Brooklyn lifts from my lap, allowing me to remove her panties. She gasps a little as I toss them over to Seven, embarrassment colouring her cheeks. I love the timid but sensual angel within her that comes out when we fuck.
Hesitating for a second, Seven brings her panties to his nose and inhales deeply. “I can smell your arousal,” he tells her with a crooked smile. “Do you like people watching you?”
Undoing my belt and attacking the fly of my trousers, Brooklyn falters at his question. We all know she has a kink for group activities. I think about what we did in Blackwood’s swimming pool at least once a day.
“You don’t have to watch us,” she grinds out.
Sitting back, Seven stares. “I’m curious.”
Opposite us, Hudson begins to touch himself. “Me too.”
Taking my cock in hand, Brooklyn begins to pump it up and down. I take the opportunity to imprison her in a passionate kiss, exploring every inch of her body that’s exposed by the tight dress. She should dress in borrowed hand-me-downs more often if they look like this.
Finding her clit, she’s wet and dripping already. I play with her, despite the inappropriateness of our surroundings—in the middle of the street, opposite a church. People walk past our blacked-out car every so often, glancing at the windows without seeing inside. It’s fucking hot to know we’re breaking the rules.
“Take it, love,” I whisper to her. “I want to fill you up.”
With a moan, she lowers herself down on my length. At this angle, I’m pushing so deep inside of her, I almost finish before we get started. It’s a snug fit, with warmth wrapping around my dick in a welcome embrace. I don’t give a damn if what we’re doing is wrong.
She’s the only thing worth living for on this planet.
Without her, we have nothing.
Beginning to move in a slow, coaxing grind, Brooklyn takes her time. She’s letting me thrust deep inside of her, with two steadying hands placed on my shoulders. Our lips find each other again. I can taste the heartache on her tongue. We shouldn’t fucking be here, mourning another loss.
“We have to stop,” she moans.
Lifting my hips, I meet her movements. “Not a damn chance, love. You don’t get to decide that. We own every inch of your soul. I decide when and where I want to fuck you.”
“But, Seven—”
She freezes when I grab her throat, forcing her to look at him. Seven’s watching our performance and stroking his cock, a delicious darkness swirling in his eyes. He doesn’t look uncomfortable in the slightest.
