Page 46 of Saint

“And your family?”

“I never had a family. The woman who gave birth to me dropped me off on the orphanage steps during a blizzard on Valentine’s Day. I almost froze to death.”

Sympathy flooded her azure eyes. But he didn’t want or need it.

“Don’t look at me like that, Mia,” he growled.

“Like what?” she asked, all innocence.

“Like you care. Because when it comes down to it, nobody really cares. At least not for anybody except themselves. People are selfish and out for their own best interests. If you believe anything else, you’re naive. Nothing but a stupid, little rich girl.”

Chapter Fifteen

Mia knew exactly what he was doing. Nik had confided more than he’d wanted and now he was lashing out. Even though he was trying to push her away, Mia refused to let him.

“I may be naive, but I’m far from stupid, Nik.”

“I don’t know. Letting me fuck you probably wasn’t your best decision,” he said dryly.

“I disagree,” she stated, lazily rolling onto her back with a soft sigh and letting her hand slide beneath the sheet. She could tell he was watching her like a hawk and she smothered a smile. “Why would I regret such amazing orgasms?”

“Are you touching yourself?” he ground out.

She turned her head and gave him a slow, sultry blink. “Maybe.”

Well, that did it. He closed the distance between them and slammed his mouth against hers, slipping his tongue between her lips and kissing the holy bejesus out of her. Meanwhile, his hand slid beneath the blanket and found its way between her legs, brushing hers away.

“Whenever you’re ready for another orgasm, you tell me and I’ll take care of it. Understand?” He pinched her clit and she gasped. Yet her traitorous legs dropped open as if he just pressed the button on a remote control.

Outside, the wind had picked up and the roof shook above them as he simultaneously fucked her with his eyes and fingers. As callous as he tried to convince her he was, she knew he wasn’t going to involve his cock again. Not yet, anyway. He knew she’d be sore and, yes, he could be a bastard, but he wouldn’t intentionally hurt her. She believed that with every fiber of her being.

Mia had trouble focusing as he stroked her into a frenzy then plunged a finger into her wet heat. He obviously had no intention of leaving her unsatisfied, and he made sure to be slow and gentle and thorough. In minutes, her world shattered all over again as she rode his hand to a glorious finish.

“Goddamn, you’re so fucking beautiful when you come.” Their eyes locked and he pulled his hand up and sucked his glistening fingers clean. It was sexy and dirty, and she loved it.

Nik rolled onto his back and Mia turned onto her side to face him. She slowly moved closer, as though approaching a wild animal that might bolt if she made too sudden of a move. Nik might be able to fuck like a prized stallion, but he was wild, and intimacy was as foreign to him as a saddle on an unbroken horse. She laid her palm on his chest and her chin on the back of her hand.

“You chose your name, didn’t you? Nik Valentine.” The significance of his last name and call sign didn’t escape her. He’d been abandoned on February fourteenth, St. Valentine’s Day.

His chest rose with a deep inhale and he gave her a slight, nearly imperceptible nod. “You said it sounded made up. Guess it is. All my names, I gave myself.”

He’d gotten snarky and told her not everyone had been given a billionaire’s last name, and now she understood why.The hurt that resulted from being unwanted by your own blood ran deep and left painful scars that no one else could see.

“I might have a billionaire’s last name, but I’ve never had a family,” she said softly. “I spent my life being ignored, and the little girl in me always hoped one day he would reach out, ask for forgiveness and want a relationship. Silly, I know. Maybe you’re right and I am stupid.”

“You’re not stupid, Mia. I shouldn’t have said that.” He trailed his fingers up and down her back. “I’m sorry.”

She gave him the faintest wisp of a smile. “Guess neither of us grew up with an overabundance of love and family.”

“No.” Something shifted in his demeanor and he began tracing small circles on her hip. “It’s how I got tangled up with the Bratva. They looked awfully good to a street rat like me, and when they opened their arms in welcome, when no one else did, I embraced them back.”

“What about the orphanage?” she asked.

He snorted. “I ran away when I was seven.”

“It was that bad?”

“They were cruel…sadistic. They loved doling out punishments and I was a bad kid. Always getting into trouble and mouthing off. Beatings were pretty much a daily occurrence.”

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