Page 136 of Desecrated Saints
“Did your girlfriend tell you about the rooftop last week?”
“Seven,” she warns.
“What?” I act all innocent.
Hudson’s still slamming into her, his grip bruising her scarred hips. Determined to win this fucked up game of ours, I sit back, stark bollock naked and not embarrassed in the slightest.
“I told her that if she wanted to jump, she could go ahead.”
That causes his movements to still, right on the verge of finishing. Eight gasps in pain and frustration, her nails drawing blood from my thighs. He’s left her hanging on the edge while his face darkens with anger.
“What?” Hudson utters.
I watch them, far too pleased with myself.
“Ignore him,” Eight insists.
“What the hell is he talking about, Brooke?!”
She’s ripped from my lap and flipped over by his rough hands. Eight’s head lands in my naked lap. Settling between her spread, vulnerable legs, Hudson is free to stare directly into her wide eyes.
“Go ahead,” I encourage with a grin. “Tell your boyfriend how you wanted to give up. Tell him that I took you to the edge of a rooftop, and you actually considered jumping off.”
“I did not!”
“Stop lying, Eight.”
She glowers up at me. “Shut the fuck up, Seven. Last warning.”
Her gaze is wrenched back to Hudson by his grip on her chin. There’s real anger there, burning in slow, destructive embers. I’m quite pleased with my handiwork. He’s even hotter while enraged. Hell, they both are.
“Are we doing this shit again?” Hudson hisses at her. “I’ve dragged you off a fucking roof once. I won’t do it again. We’ve spent enough of our lives worrying about your death.”
“I was never going to jump.” Eight bites her lip, but it sounds like the truth. “I just… it’s the unknown. I’ve never feared it before. Now, I have something to lose. I’m terrified of not knowing the future.”
Bringing their foreheads together, Hudson’s hands move to her exposed throat. Their noses are touching as he inhales every breath she takes. I spot the moment oxygen ceases to enter her lungs. Eight’s hands curl into fists as she fights to remain calm, despite being choked.
“My future has meant nothing to me since the day we met,” Hudson growls in her face. “I didn’t give a damn about anything but you. We belong together, in this world and the next. Where you go, I go.”
Eight begins to claw at his crushing hands. Human instinct is a tough nut to crack. To punish her further, Hudson pushes back inside her slick cunt. Her back arches again at the lack of warning. He sets a bruising pace, gliding into her like she’s his property—his to hurt and break into pathetic pieces.
“You think death will part us?”
Eight can’t answer, her nails tearing his hands to shreds.
“There’s no way out of this, blackbird. The Devil wouldn’t dare challenge my claim on your soul. Hell will spit you out and back into my arms, where you fucking belong.”
I can feel her muscles beginning to tense where our bare skin is touching. She’s on the verge of falling apart, even if every instinct is screaming at her to escape and find air to breathe. Hudson won’t give it to her without payment. Her complete submission to his will is the price of her release.
“You wanna come, little whore?” he teases her. “Then let’s get this straight, once and for all. If we’re a motherfucking family, that means we live and die together. No easy exits. No shortcuts.”
Her eyelids begin to flutter as her hands tremble. She’s going to pass out if he’s not careful. At the absolute last second, Hudson releases his hands from Eight’s neck. Her next breath sounds excruciating, like breathing underwater. Her skin is already tarnished, turning a nasty shade of purple.
“Come,” he demands with a final pump.
The sound that escapes her lips is caught between relief and agony. Hudson’s head slumps against her breasts, every taut muscle in his back moving with his rapid breathing. Neither seems able to move as they ride out the waves of their climaxes.
We don’t say anything for a long time. Our bodies are wrapped up in each other, spreadeagled across the boxing ring. Eight is staring up at the ceiling, rubbing her sore neck and wincing at the pain. I note that Hudson doesn’t bother apologising, nor does she demand he does so.
