Page 101 of SINS & Temptation

Her father’s death changed me forever. It killed all the parts of me that mattered.

And I can’t let that happen to my Bella. Not now. Not ever.

“I killed your father,” I wrench out.

There’s a long pause before her hands cradle my cheeks, her kisses so soft there might actually be poison in her lipstick.

Which, of all the ways I can think to die, would be perfect. Other than Option A, of her slowly fucking me to death, of course.

“You didn’t kill Da,” she whispers against my mouth. “He sacrificed himself. To save you.”

At this point, she’s teary, and I am, too. A drunken flood of emotions slams into me with such force, I know what I have to do.

Finally, I say the one thing that I know will drive her away from me. For good.

“I don’t want you here, Kennedy. Because I don’t want you.”

Chapter Forty-Two

KENNEDY

He said it with his own two lips. “I don’t want you.”

It was so, God, I don’t know . . . cute. Heroic.

But the thing is, I know exactly what Enzo is doing. His carefully constructed plans are all so crystal clear.

So, I let him say it.

Just before I undo his pants and tear off the rest of his clothes.

His golden eyes stare up at me, beautiful and blank. “I said I don’t want you.”

“I heard you,” I whisper against his chest, my lips trace down the line of his abs, savoring every ripple until I reach that tantalizing patch of happy trail.

With deliberate slowness, I take a long lick of his gorgeous dick.

He hisses, words strangled in his throat. “Goddamn it, Bella, I don’t want to hurt you.”

But that’s when his actions betray him. He grips both sides of my head, and with raw need, thrusts his cock deep into my throat.

Enzo is right. I know him better than anyone. Even better than himself. And this—all of this—is him.

Unhinged and out of control, he’s like this only with me. Every moan, our melody. Every touch, a match strike on kerosene, white-hot and potent.

He needs me, and I need him just like this. The villain, fucking my mouth, forcing himself deeper, telling me what a filthy, dirty girl I am.

He tears my clothes to shreds, rips off my panties, climbs on top of me and shoves himself deep—thrusting, thrusting, thrusting—until my legs are forced wide and I’m taking him to the hilt. I know I’ll never get enough.

I crave every part of Enzo. The chaos. The fire. The rage. And every inch of him that threatens to tear me apart.

Because Enzo Ares D’Angelo is my husband, and while he may have claimed me, make no mistake—from his beautiful heart to his goddamned gorgeous dick—I’ve claimed every piece of him right back.

The god of war is mine. And no one and nothing will take him from me. Not his manipulative uncle, not four thugs in a cage. Not even himself.

Because I’m a Mullvain.

A Mullvain saved him once—my Da. And a Mullvain is about to save him again.

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