Page 76 of Sinner

I was trembling by the time I returned to the seat, still lightheaded from the entire experience. I’d lived a nightmare that I’d partially created with the admittance of my own dark needs. No, I hadn’t asked to be attacked, but darkness begat darkness. Wasn’t that something Shanna had told me? Or maybe our father. I wasn’t certain.

What was I, naïve as hell or just blinded by my insane and sick need to indulge in the darkest of sins? I didn’t recognize myself any longer. Not at all.

The ugly truth was I was disgusted with the woman sitting in the seat. Because of my foray into something I had no business entering into, I’d almost gotten myself hurt or killed.

Yet both times Xander had saved me.

He’d come to my rescue even though he’d hunted me as if I was his… prey. I wasn’t certain how to feel about it. Was I attracted to the man? More than I should be.

Did I want what I was thinking to be true? If I had to be brutally honest with myself, yes. There was no decent explanation for the way I felt and I wasn’t certain whether I was ready to confront him.

One thing stuck clearly in my mind. We both had something to hide.

It had been inevitable a powerful man like Xander would learn my true identity. Maybe he’d gotten my fingerprints off the headset. I wouldn’t put something like that past him. He hadn’t excelled in business the way he had without discovering everything he could about the people working for him and those opposing him.

I’d been so fucking naïve, emblazoned by my dad’s hatred.

Thoughts about Dorn and the horrible things he’d said to me rumbled through the back of my mind. My fury was intense enough I’d wanted the man to suffer.

I leaned back in the comfortable chair, glancing around at what I could see of the room. It was extremely gothic with red walls and sconces, and detailed and highly erotic art that suited his personality. While I might not know much about him, what little I’d witnessed screamed of his dominating personality.

The room and paintings reflected that perfectly. When he’d been carrying me through the house, I’d caught a glimpse of what was probably the dining room. It was filled with pieces of exerciseequipment. No wonder he had the body of a god instead of a man. There was no television in this room or the kitchen. That wasn’t surprising. I doubted he enjoyed movies or ridiculous television series.

I had the shirt in my hand and in an involuntary move, I pulled it under my nose, inhaling his aftershave. Xander was one of the few men who selected different fragrances. I wondered if he did so given his mood. He was certainly dark and formidable. So much of me wanted to berate him. I thought of a dozen or more of the hateful phrases I’d wanted to use over the years if allowed the opportunity to get in his face.

None of them seemed to fit now.

I’d lost all sense of perspective the moment he’d picked me up into his arms. I wasn’t usually the kind of woman to swoon over any man, but seeing him in his tuxedo had allowed me to feel a moment of pure lust before I’d shut it down.

Stephanie had gone on and on about how good looking he was while also reminding me to be very careful of all three men. They’d certainly seemed like kings, ruling over a kingdom that had made them into superstars.

I closed my eyes, envisioning the dreams and fantasies I’d had about the masked man. All while thinking of Xander. I laughed bitterly, the sound hollow. Admitting the truth was more painful than I could ever have imagined.

But I hungered for him.

His rough touch.

His heated kisses.

The way he made me feel so alive, as if there was nothing I couldn’t do.

Every single rush of fear pushed my adrenaline higher, creating the most incredible endorphins.

His lips on my skin.

And on my pussy, his tongue buried deep inside.

Oh, my God. I longed to feel his cock buried deep inside, bringing me more rapture than I’d believed existed.

Moaning, I dropped my head into my hands. My sinner, my saint.

My nemesis.

He returned only a few minutes later, striding into the room with items in his hands including a true icepack. I allowed myself a full look at his carved chest, the six-pack abs more like an eight-pack. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on the man. I sucked in my breath, still uncertain of my feelings at this point. While he had a powerful draw, I was still frightened about my reaction to him.

I was also shocked at his level of tenderness. He crouched down as he’d done before, gently removing the shirt from my hand.

“Your shirt might be ruined,” I told him.

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