Page 147 of Hostile Saint

My lips descended to hers…

As if walls inside her mind and heart were crumbling, making room for me and our new reality, her mouth opened. Like striking a match, passion exploded between us.

Sensations that we had shared so many times, bloomed, bringing our bodies and desires back to life. Familiar touches sang to me that I was finding my way back home. Home. It was with Lacey. No matter what walls we lived within, we would always be home, if together.

No name changes nor address changes would ever take that from us again.

Lips wanting her, all of her, I found myself kissing her neck, desperate for all the tastes her flawless skin offered to me.

As if willing to give me anything I wanted, her thighs opened, letting my hips sink toward the precious softness I had been without for so long; I wasn’t sure how I survived it.

I groaned, “Babe,” fighting the incredible urge to move my hips and feel her clothed core against my erection before overtaking her delicious mouth again.

I jolted when I realized my hips and dick had joined forces and moved on their own, rubbing against Lacey’s sweetness. They didn’t care what had ever happened to this part of her body. They refused to allow memories of the brothers to taint her beautiful soul. They knew Lacey was only mine.

Lacey’s hands reaching for my ass and tugging told me I wasn’t pushing her too much.

So, I surrendered to my body’s needs. As my hips surged, everything else faded.

Like they had before, two souls blended, with no one else present.

Old Tate and Lace were shutting out the world and all their problems, and were once again lost in each other.

As my hand cupped her breast, her own hips lifted, giving me more access to where I wanted most. As a thank you to her offering, my thumb caressed her pert nipple.

She moaned, spurring my hips to push harder, begging for entry into the softness I needed to house me. Cover me. Pull on me…

Just the thought of what might be coming had my shoulders growing, possessively, daring anyone to approach the gift underneath me. No one was taking her from me again.

I wanted inside my wife. No interruptions permitted.

I was almost regretting leaving my weapons with Dagger and Vice.

Especially as her hands slid under my cut, my t-shirt, touching my scarred skin with no surprised reaction. I stared at her as she caressed me. Her hands were the best touch I had ever felt. Don’t stop. Feel me.

She did. She felt me, inside and out.

Palms against my back, her hips lifted again. She whispered, “Please, don’t say no.”

Denying her was the last thing I wanted, but I suddenly worried. “I could never say no, but—” Are you hurt? Is it okay for you to have sex? She didn’t even know she had been violently raped. Would my body cause hers more damage?

Hungry thighs rubbing on the sides of mine, and my hips were telling me to proceed. Her words even more. “Tate, take these off.”

If you feel pain, please tell—

I suddenly thought of my own injuries and how fast I healed.

I stared into hazel eyes, realizing we were the same.

Unexpectedly, being slightly modified now kicked ass.

I practically leaped out of the bed and started ripping off my clothes. I didn’t even care that my cut was on the floor. Getting between her beautiful thighs was all I gave a damn about.

Lacey seemed to find my rushed stripping funny, because she giggled.

So ready to reclaim intimacy with my Pretty Girl, I hurriedly got back in bed. Sitting on my feet between her legs, I teased, “You find my torture funny?”

“Torture?” Smiling, she looked like a goddess on her back.