No Saint

by Ria Wilde

“You’re a little feral,” I tell her, keeping my fingers from her teeth, “But I’m sure you can be tamed.”

She really was a little lioness. Beautiful. Deadly.

There was no choice in the matter. No other alternative, and Amelia Doyle was no longer going to be anyone else’s problem but mine.

“Bruise her with that hand,” Gabriel growls, “And you’ll lose it.”

“Take her to her room,” he orders, dropping his hand, “and I meant what I said, mark a single inch of her and you’ll lose a hand.”

Fuck, my name on her tongue…

“From now, leonessa, you are mine. No one looks at you. Touches you. Even speaks to you without my permission. Mine. Are we clear?”

“You will walk down the aisle and you’ll wear a pretty dress, and you will become my wife.”

“You’ll be the pretty wife of the don, a good girl who’s going to show me respect.”

“That’s a good girl, pick something pretty.” “I’ll be sure to pick the ugliest one there.”

And she would listen when I told her I don’t want other men seeing what is mine. It didn’t matter who or why, her, her body, everything, it was mine and I do not fucking share.

“You think they wouldn’t tell me when my wife was ill?”

He smirks, “You think you can get passed my men?” He glances around. I steel my spine knowing he was right, there was no chance, “But should you manage it, be sure to know I’ll chase, there will be no escaping me, no place you could hide where I wouldn’t find you.”

“Wife,” he greets. “Amelia,” I correct. His mouth notches up at the side, “Care to join me for dinner?” I place a hand on my hip, “Do I have a choice?” His mouth now widens into a full smile and damn, he had fucking dimples too. “Absolutely not.”

“Ah, my wife, the kind of feelings you stir may be considered a sin but trust me, my thoughts on you are so far from hell I may as well be in heaven.”

“While my wife is speaking you will remain quiet.”

“It is respect, Amelia. You are my wife, and they will treat you as they would treat me.”

Once beyond the doors I don’t waste a second. My fists go to Asher’s collar, pulling so tight the neckline of his shirt presses into his windpipe, cutting off air, “You disrespect me!” I growl, tone low so Amelia won’t hear, “You disrespect her.”

“No,” I kiss him, “You’ll sleep with me.” “Giving orders, wife?” He teases with a smirk. “I am.”

“You’re fucking mine,” I growl into her mouth, “Mine.”

It wasn’t the claiming I expected it to be, after being without her I wanted to fuck her hard, fast, I wanted to mark her with me, smear it into her skin, make her feel me for days but this, this was slow and it was euphoric. It was a claiming in a different way.

“Mondo mia?” he says, pressing a kiss to my spine, “It means ‘my world’.”

“Miss Doyle?” “It’s Mrs Saint now,” I correct, noticing the smirk on Gabriel’s face as he sits opposite me pretending not to listen.

I swallow at the praise, liking how it sounds on his lips when he calls me a good girl. I’d never explored kinks before but with him, I’d explore several. My core tightens at the idea, thighs aching. He turns his face, pressing his lips to my temple, “You know,” he murmurs, “You blush so pretty when I call you a good girl. My wife likes a little bit of praise huh?”

Reaching forward, I hook my hand behind her knee and lift, resting the toe of her stiletto against the edge of my chair. My hands smooth up her calf.

“You will stay safe for me, Amelia,” I tell her, “You will come home to me.” “Yes.” “Always?” “Always,” she promises.

“It is loaded. You aim, you fire.” “And if I miss?” She gasps out. “You won’t miss, leonessa. You do all to come home to me.” “Yes.” She admits. “That’s my girl.”

I felt beautiful, no more than that, I couldn’t explain the elation in my chest or how, with Gabriel’s hand in mine, his lethal body beside me, I felt like a damn queen. Even with the scars visible,

“Yes sir,” I joke, accepting my wine and grinning around the rim as he grumbles in my ear. “My pretty wife,” he growls. “You won’t be joking later when I have you screaming on my cock.”

“I love you.” Something rumbles inside his chest as his arms tighten, “And you own my heart, amore mia, I am in love with you.”

“I’m going to kill him too,” he tells me, voice almost calm, “Just like I did his brother.”

Well there we go.

But then Atlas raises his gun, forcing Asher’s brows down at his brother in confusion. There’s no warning, no hesitation as a shot echoes in the small space and blood splatters across my face. A warm, wet spray that lands on my lips and cheeks.

Atlas moves quick, shielding my body as he moves my dress down, covering me. “I’m going to untie you,” he whispers with a shake in his voice.

“Now tell me,” I whisper, “Would you like to be my whore tonight, or my wife?”