All Chapters of NO SAINTS HERE (Lustful chapters): Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Lyra’s povMy name is Lyra, and I have been in love with my best friend’s father for longer than I’m willing to admit—even to myself.The island appeared like a secret as the boat cut through the water, white cliffs rising from the sea, palm trees swaying as if they were in on something I wasn’t supposed to know. Soma laughed beside me, barefoot and glowing, already home in a place I was only borrowing.Her family owned the island.That alone should’ve made this summer feel unreal. But it wasn’t the mansion, or the ocean stretching endlessly in every direction, or the kind of wealth that didn’t need to announce itself that made my chest tighten.It was him. Julian Vale. Her father.I hadn’t seen him in two years—not since he’d hugged me goodbye at the airport, warm and steady and entirely unaware of what his presence did to me. Back then, I told myself it was a harmless crush. Something I’d grow out of.I hadn’t.“He’s not supposed to be here tonight,” Soma said casually as staff prep

Julian’s povI wake to laughter.Soft, barely there—like she’s trying not to let it escape. Lyra is sitting up against the headboard, hair a mess, sunlight painting her skin gold as she scrolls through her phone.“What’s funny?” I ask, my voice still rough with sleep.She glances at me, lips curving. “Your island has terrible reception,” she says. “I’ve sent the same message three times. If my best friend replies, she’ll think I’m drunk.”I smirk. “You were drunk.”She rolls her eyes, then leans down, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek—too casual for what it does to me. “You’re impossible,” she murmurs, already slipping out of bed.That’s how it’s going to be today.Soft touches. Pretending that we were nothing.She disappears into the bathroom, calling over her shoulder, “I’m sneaking back to my room before anyone notices I’m missing. Yacht party, remember?”I remember.By the time we meet again, it’s daylight and distance. She’s in a white sundress now, laughing freely with her frien

The car door shuts with a quiet, final click, and suddenly it feels like there’s no turning back. “Where are we going?” I ask, fingers curling into the hem of my coat. “I thought Aren lived at the mansion with us.” Rowan laughs, easy and careless, like we’re heading out for something harmless. He starts the engine, humming along to the music playing softly through the speakers. “Not tonight,” he says. “We’re meeting him somewhere else.” The road stretches ahead of us, smooth at first—then narrower. Trees begin to crowd in, branches reaching over the path like they’re watching. The farther we drive, the quieter it gets. No lights. No houses. Just the woods swallowing us whole. My stomach tightens. “Rowan…” I shift in my seat. “Why are we in the forest?” He glances at me, one hand steady on the wheel, a small smile tugging at his mouth. Not reassuring. Knowing. “Relax, Nyx.” The car slows, then turns onto a gravel path. The crunch beneath the tires sounds too loud in the sile

Luca’s POVJobs like this are supposed to be loud.Dock lights. Engines growling. Men talking too much because they’re armed and think that makes them immortal. That’s how it always goes when someone wants me dead—noise first, then blood.Tonight is wrong because it’s quiet.We took the yacht out after midnight, just long enough to show our faces, just long enough for word to spread that Luca Quil was stupid enough to stand on open water with only a handful of men. A performance. That’s all it was ever meant to be.By the time we dock again, my crew is relaxed. Laughing. Cigarettes lit. They think the danger passed when the engines shut off.That’s when I know it hasn’t.I don’t announce that I’m heading below deck. I never do. If something’s waiting for me, I want it calm. I want it careless.The yacht greets me like it always does—polished wood, muted lights, the soft creak of water against the hull. Familiar. Almost comforting. I’ve slept on worse floors than this. I’ve bled in qui

For minutes, I focus on her pussy, doing what I know best. She is chaos—pulling at her cuffed hands, twirling and trembling under my hold. Her loud moans of pleasure echo through my once-quiet room.“Cum for me…” I groan against her as I plunge a finger inside her. She’s so full, screaming loudly when I twist, hitting her G-spot. Within seconds, her liquids spurt out in waves.She screams, “Ohhh God, oh God… hmmm!”“That’s it… ohh, let it rain… mmm,” I murmur as I dive back in, sucking up her juices. Making a pussy squirt is normal for me, and this little lamb is no exception.My face and hair are soaked from her wetness—the perfect proof. When I move back up to meet her gaze, her eyes are shut, lips parted as harsh breaths escape them.She is perfect this way—vulnerable and feeble, thanks to my tongue.“Do you plan to kill me this way?” she whispers, lips lifting in a half-smile.I chuckle. “Death by orgasm,” I say, kissing her again because her lips are soft, and I love sucking on t