Page 56 of Saint

Saint drags his handdown my chin, along my throat, pausing at the top of my dress to rip it down the front. The thin material shreds, exposing my breasts. He leans in and sucks a nipple into his mouth, biting it, teasing me with his tongue, and running it in circles.

“You’re sick.” I moan as his tongue circles my nipple again.

Lifting, he looks down at me beneath him. “What did you expect, kitten? You didn’t come here thinking you could call me out and I’d play nice. You’re smarter than that.”

“I didn’t come here for this.” At least, that’s what I tell myself.

I came here for proof. I came here to destroy Saint once and for all.

“Why are you like this?” I clench my hands into fists, facing off with him.

“Is that really what you’re trying to figure out, Violet?” His fingers trail up and down between my breasts.

“Yes.”

“I don’t think it is.” He feathers his fingers over me, tickling my skin as he trails up to a nipple and tugs on it. “What bothers you is that you want me like this.”

He leans in and licks my pebbled nipple, slowly brushing his lips across my chest to the other.

“You want to figure me out so you can rationalize what’s broken inside me. So you can absolve yourself of your guilt.” He bites the flesh of my breast until I scream and then kisses the spot he just bit. “You’re scared—but not of me. You’re scared of yourself. Because if I really am a psychopath with no regrets and no morals, there’s no way for you to reason with the reality that you like mejust like this.”

Saint reaches down and shoves a finger inside me.

“There’s always a reason.” I tip my head back on a moan as he works his fingers in and out, and when I try to struggle away, he grips me tighter.

“Is that what you were looking for in those books at the library? An explanation? Or were you looking for a solution? A cure?” He works my core, even if his face is completely passive. “You won’t find one. Like I said, there are no gods here. No good. Nothing that can be fixed. And no one who can be saved.”

“Liam said—”

Saint shoves another finger in and grabs my pussy so hard it cuts me off. “Don’t say his name when I’m inside you, Violet. This is between you and me.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why me?”

He pauses, biting the inside of his cheek and narrowing his eyes as he examines me. “Because you look beautiful when you break.”

Pulling his hand away, he works his pants, and his fingers are replaced by the head of his cock, putting pressure on my entrance.

“Are you going to cry for me, Violet?” He leans in and traces his lips along my jaw. “Are you going to scream?”

“No.” I shake my head.

He rubs his cock over me, stroking himself through my wetness. “I think you will.”

“Don’t do this.” I tip my head back and close my eyes.

“No?” He presses his hips forward, and the pressure alone is almost enough to make me black out. “Look at me, Violet.”

Opening my eyes, I dare to face him. To look into his eyes. Into a man I know nothing about except the terrible things he’s done. A man incapable of emotion or love. Someone who feeds on my fear. Who wants my tears so he can satisfy the rush he gets from hurting me.

“Why did you come here tonight?” Saint rubs himself over me again, and I bite back the moan that betrays my morals.

His dark maple eyes seep like sap leaking from a tree as I stare into them. Warmth and sweetness when the cold forest is an empty place that offers no comfort.

These dark depths I hate myself for seeking out, but I can’t help it.

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