Page 21 of Dirty Little Saint

He glides his hand up my neck, leaving tiny sparks in its trail. “The feeling is mutual, Firecracker. It’s a sickness. But my craving, my obsession, my need for you is stronger.”

His heated breath puffs out like smoke in the cold air between us right before his lips graze mine. “Eternity is our curse and our salvation. Over and over again until the ground opens up and swallows us whole, we will ruin each other. Because any other fate would be worse than death. Because no other fate exists.”

Fuck.

He’s right. I know this in the core of my being.

I clench my fists in frustration and open my mouth to scream, but I’m cut off by his kiss.

We both gasp as we release quivering breaths inside each other’s lungs. His tongue dances around mine, sending sparks of electricity over every inch of me. My sigils flare and burn as our ache collides.

He tips my head, arching me back as he probes deeper, kissing me harder, desperately. Violently.

I moan. I cry. I drink his saliva down like holy water.

A gust of wind circles our limbs, and I can hear the ravens cry on the fringes. As the link between us grows, our unforgiving hearts beat faster, sending another crushing blow to the nature we fight against.

Riot pulls back, but only to leave a trail of kisses up my aching jaw. “You’re my violence,” he whispers in my ear. He scrapes his teeth across my lobe, nipping and sucking like a starved animal. “Mors tua, vita mea.”

Your death, my life.

I understand more than ever now.

And I know that another piece of me did die last night. Just as each of his brutal kisses brings another hidden part of me to life.

He slides his hands down to my waist and pulls me hard against him. “Let me worship you here for all of nature to witness.”

I let out another whimper, my heart racing. When I meet his gaze, an unspoken question is answered. I can’t fight it or deny it any longer. I don’t want to escape him.

He swoops me up and lays me on the ground. I gaze up as he takes his shirt off, mesmerized by how his sigils glow like the blue neon in his eyes. The light swirls and pulsates, weaving in and out of his corded muscles. I follow the glowing path of his blood as it pumps ferociously through each vein.

This man is the absolute definition of haunting beauty.

He pauses, and I’m confused for a second. Until I realize what he wants. My consent. For the first time since I ever laid eyes on Riot Graves, he’s asking for permission to touch me.

In response, I unbutton my pants and slide them off along with my panties.

His arms tremble as he kneels down between my legs. “You are my goddess. And this is my sacrament.”

A tiny shiver snakes across my belly as he circles my clit with his thumb.

“And you’re my penance. You’ve damned my soul, Riot.”

He licks his lips. “Shhh, let me feast now.”

I arch back, grinding my hips into the ground as he drags the tip of his tongue up my slit. “Oh. Fuuck,” I whine.

He plants soft kisses on my pussy, his lips hot as he savors me. Every gentle flick of his tongue tickles my core. Fuck. The agony sends me to the edge, and I almost cum. No. It’s too soon. I want to relish every second. To draw it out. I tangle my fingers in his black strands, take a deep breath, and unclench.

He hums as he pushes his tongue in deeper. I roll my hips and rub my pussy against his face, moaning like a cat in heat.

“Mmm.” He digs his fingers into my ass and pulls me tighter to him.

“Riot… fuck. I need… you.” I’m coming unhinged; sick and starving for his brutality.

He slides out and runs the length of his tongue up my slit. “I know.” He sucks on my nub before nipping it with his sharp teeth. I buck as it sends a spasm straight to my core.

“Oh, no,” I cry out—not in protest but in disbelief. This man knows how to push every one of my buttons. He knows what makes me come undone. Every. Single. Time.

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