Home > The Sainthood (The Sainthood - Boys of Lowell High #1-3)(42)

The Sainthood (The Sainthood - Boys of Lowell High #1-3)(42)
Author: Siobhan Davis

Bending his arms at the elbows, he tucks them under his head, grinning at me like I’m no threat.

It infuriates me, and I rip a hole in his boxers, exposing some skin and curls of wiry hair.

“If you want to see my cock, princess, you only have to ask.”

“Mock me again and I’ll slice your dick off.”

I expect him to wince and attempt to protect his manhood, but he smiles instead. A smug smile that indicates he’s not concerned, because he clearly underestimates how mad I am, he thinks I won’t attack, or he’s just not like normal guys who would cower in this scenario. “No, you won’t. You love it too much.”

I bark out a laugh, pressing myself down over him, loving that I’m soiling him with my dirty, mud-spattered skin, and holding my blade against his face. “Delusional much, Saintly?”

“You’re not the only one who feels it, princess,” he says, running the tips of his fingers up my arm. “And I’m tired of fighting.”

“Then maybe, you shouldn’t have kidnapped me in the middle of the night and dumped me in an open grave in the fucking woods!”

He cups my face, uncaring I have a blade flattened against his cheek. “It was a test, princess, and you passed with flying colors.” His blue eyes burn with the usual intensity, and when his tongue darts out, I catch a glimpse of metal in his mouth. The tongue piercing is new.

“Explain.” I sit up, pulling my knife back, unable to think clearly when I’m that close to his face. Bile swims up my throat, and my stomach is tied into knots. It takes colossal willpower to ignore the feel of his growing erection under my ass, but I do because his words have thrown me.

“Theo has been championing your cause,” he says, sitting up with me on his lap. He leans his back against the headboard, and I slide lower on his body.

“I never asked him to.”

“Neither did we, but he’s right.” He grips my face. “We don’t have to be enemies.”

I smell a rat, and I’m not buying the bullshit he’s peddling for a minute, but I’ll play along. “What are we then?” I inquire, leaning into his face.

“We could be allies.”

“Who says I need an ally?” I ask, working hard to keep my tone neutral as he moves his hand to the nape of my neck and his gaze drops to my lips.

“War is coming to Lowell, princess, and you don’t want to find yourself on the wrong side.”

I lean in closer until there’s barely any gap between our mouths. Our noses brush, and he snakes his arms around my back, pulling me in close, uncaring that I’m dirty and messing up his bed. “What if I’m Switzerland,” I whisper over his mouth. “And I don’t want to choose a side.”

He rubs the skin at the back of my neck, and all the tiny hairs lift. “You don’t get to sit this one out. You’re going to be a Lennox, and Lennoxes always side with the winning team.”

I break free of the bubble he’s coaxed me into, tipping his beautiful face back and placing my knife against his Adam’s apple. “Let’s get one thing straight, Saintly. I’m a Westbrook, and I will never be a Lennox. Not while there’s blood still flowing through my veins.”

I’m glad for the reminder, and the anger he dialed down with his seductive charm flares to life again.

In a move he didn’t predict, I lean back, cutting both sides of his boxers, tossing the torn strands away and leaving him fully exposed to me. I press the tip of my knife into his dark-blond pubes, enjoying the flash of fear glimmering in his eyes. “Your cock really is quite magnificent,” I purr, using my free hand to stroke his shaft. Slowly, I move my knife down lower, and his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “I’d hate for my hand to slip and cut it.” I let the full extent of my venom show on my face as I press down on the knife, meeting flesh, and I’m sure I’ve drawn blood. I let go of his cock, eyeing it like I might just cut it off.

Saint holds himself deathly still. He’s scared to death I’ll lob off his precious dick. A fit of giggles bubbles inside me, but I smother my laughter, biting down hard on the inside of my cheek to maintain a cold exterior.

This is fucking priceless and the best payback.

“I researched eunuchs after watching Game of Thrones,” I admit, swirling the tip of my knife through his pubes while I watch him try not to flinch. “Did you know there are many leaders throughout history who were eunuchs?” I quirk a brow.

“And your point is?” he says, trying to act blasé and failing miserably.

I move my knife even lower, placing the blade against one side of his cock. I swear he stops breathing. “Just that you’d be in good company if I did, you know, decide to castrate you for pulling that little stunt.” The grin I give him is downright wicked, and the potent fear on his face is something he can no longer hide.

“You weren’t in any real danger,” he blurts. “I made that shit up about the wolves, all right? You’ve proven yourself resourceful, and we knew you’d make it out.”

“And if I hadn’t?” I ask, pulling a handful of his pubic hair and cutting it off in one swift move.

He lets out a roar, his hand automatically moving down his body to protect his cock. “What the fuck?”

I slap his hand away. “You really don’t want to test me right now, Saintly.” I smirk as the next words leave my mouth. “You deserve to be punished. We can do this the hard way, or you can make it easy on yourself.”

“What are you going to do?” he croaks, his eyes wide with terror.

“Don’t worry,” I say, patting the crown of his cock. “I won’t slice your dick off. This time,” I add, grinning. “Provided you lie back and keep nice and still while I give you a little trim.”

He blinks repeatedly, staring at me like I’ve gone mad. Perhaps, I have because I’m enjoying this far too much. I move the knife closer to his dick again. “So, what’s it to be?”

“You know I’ll make you fucking pay for this.”

“Oh, I’ve no doubt you’d like to try, but you’ll give me this.” I drill him with a deadly look. “You owe me this.” I hold his gaze without hesitation.

“You’re actually fucking serious?”

I nod, already seeing the resignation on his face.

“You breathe a word to the others, and I’ll make you suffer,” he cautions, and I know I’ve got him right where I want him.

“It can be our little secret,” I purr, and the smile that spreads across my mouth is so wide it threatens to split my face. “Now, keep still, and I’ll try my best not to draw blood.” I grab his pubes, lower my knife, and begin slicing.

 

 

CHAPTER 20

 


AFTER MY LITTLE grooming session with Saint, I saunter back to my room, whistling under my breath, in a much better mood now. I shower and then toss some clothes over my TV, deliberately blocking the camera so they can’t see what I’m doing. Using dad’s drill, I fit one of the padlocks to the inside of my door and secure it before packing a bag for the weekend. I dress in workout gear and message Diesel on the burner cell before climbing out of my window. It’s still early, and Mom usually doesn’t surface before eleven a.m. on the weekends, so she won’t know I’m gone for hours.

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