Bane (Sinners of Saint #4)(101)

“I actually think that I’m done with creepers for this lifetime, if you don’t mind. Can I get the cocky bastard version instead?”

Roman pretended to sift through an imaginary catalog in front of him, plucked a nonexistent page from it, and handed it to me. “Well, whaddaya know? It’s the only version of me that’s still in stock.”

He pulled me into a kiss that made oxygen seem overrated. Our tongues lashed at each other, swirling together, at war over who was more in lust with the other. He jerked me into him, and I straddled his narrow thighs in seconds, fumbling with the buttons of his cargo pants while he unzipped my hoodie and pulled down the collar of my shirt, bringing one of my nipples into his mouth and biting it. He sucked his way up to my neck so hungrily I was sure he was going to leave purple marks all over me. His cock sprang free, and it was scorching hot in my hand as he pushed my jeans off and tugged my underwear to the side. I gave his PA a quick tug before I sank down onto his dick and closed my eyes, shuddering from the ripples of pleasure moving through me. He flipped us over, and suddenly, I was beneath him, writhing. I pulled his jeans down and scraped his lower back. We were moving in sync, like we always did. Like the waves he liked to ride. Knowing where to peak, where to soar, and where to break. “Where have you been?” he asked, sinking into me, his weight on me. I should have been frightened to get caught. Especially with a reputation like mine. Like ours. But with Bane, I felt fearless.

The outliers. The rejects. We’re free.

“Gail’s,” I answered. “Pam’s. Mrs. B’s. Just…around.”

“No, Snowflake. Where have you been before? When I was lost. When I was a monster. When nothing made sense. Where have you been all my life?”

I pulled back to look at him. Some of his pain had melted away, but most of it was there, in his eyes, waiting for me to tell him that I didn’t care that his family had stolen mine. That I wasn’t too broken to love him how he so obviously and heartbreakingly deserved to be loved. “Iris” by the Goo Goo Dolls started drifting from the radio like a lullaby, and it was perfect, and we were perfect. Even though life was far, far from perfect.

“I was right here. Waiting for you.” I pressed my palm against his heart, smiling.



My Whole Life Has Been Pledged to This Meeting with You



Bane. Roman. My sort-of stepbrother.

A con, a liar, and a thief. He was there for me at the end, when no one else was.

He was there for me when I needed him, and when I didn’t.

And he was there for me, even though I constantly pushed him away.

He thrust into me in long, punishing strokes, and I arched my back, forgetting where we were, who we were surrounded by. His ass was bare and visible for everyone outside to see, but all I felt was pleasure and triumph as he snaked one hand between us, pushing two fingers into me, making me feel so full I could hardly breathe. Our sweat cemented us together, and his cock was so hard and thick inside me, I felt him everywhere. He kept sucking, biting, and nibbling at my skin. My breasts were exposed and pushed out of my bra, bouncing against his steel chest, the collar of my shirt stretched and ruined, and again, I found myself craving to be taken mercilessly but willingly. He circled his cock inside me, teasing every nerve-end, then hoisted one of my legs over his shoulder for better access, plunging into me harder than before.

I gasped his name over and over again. Then two knocks rattled the window above my head.

“Go the fuck away,” Roman snarled, his face still buried in my chest, covering and licking me.

“Holy shit, dude, they’re legit fucking!” I saw two guys I used to go to school with laughing and pushing each other excitedly.

“Go away!” It was my turn to yell. But my heart wasn’t in it. I was so focused on the intense pleasure, on my pussy dripping and the wetness pooling between us, on the orgasm I was reaching just as they started hooting loudly.

“Shit, it’s Jesse Parker!”

“Carter, dickhead, not Parker.”

“Whatever, man. Orgy Girl strikes again. Call Emery. Now.”

“What?”

One of them punched the other in the shoulder. “Now!”

“Finish for me, baby, so we can get out of here. It’s fucking Losertown. No wonder you moved out,” Bane hissed, biting my shoulder. Just as he said that, I fell apart in his arms, feeling wave after wave of electricity slamming into my body. After I came, Bane raised himself on his forearms, picked me up, put me in the passenger seat, and revved up his engine. His dick was still hard, a pearl of white pre-cum welling along his cock ring. He didn’t come. He rolled his window down.

“Hi.” He smiled casually at the two guys.

“H…hi?” one of them said, confused. The other one was in the process of releasing a slow, recognizing shit when Bane sent his fist to both their faces in rapid succession, and the crack of their noses breaking filled the air.

Bane backed out of his parking space. The guys were standing at the curb, crouching down and screaming, holding their noses. I was zipping my hoodie up and covering as much as I could of myself when Bane stuck his head out from my window again, tucking his cock back into his pants.

“Warn Emery not to ask his daddy to bail him out. Because if I hear he’s out and about tonight, I won’t show him the same mercy my girlfriend did.”