Page 75 of Saint

“Everything.” I reach down and drive two fingers inside her. “You’re dripping just imagining what I’m going to do to you. Lustful when you should fear me. Your perfect little cunt begs for my pain.”

I shove in deeper, and her eyes roll back.

“Look at me, Violet.”

Her gaze snaps to mine at the command.

Leaning in, I lick her parted mouth. Loving how her breath races while she fights for air. How her flesh speckles with goosebumps. How her chest heaves with every hard-fought inhale.

She’s completely at my mercy. This stunning, innocent little creature placed her life in my hands and asked me to show her the ways of men who do unspeakable things. Men who laid the bricks around us. Who stained this ground with blood.

Her eyes beg me to slice her open. To make it hurt. To make her suffer until she sees the truth as clearly as I do.

“From sin, we were born. And through sin, we are revealed,” I whisper against her lips. “You wanted me to show you?”

I pull back and loosen my grip enough for her to move her head with her single nod.

“Very well.” I release her.

Her hands fly to her throat as she chokes in a breath. But I don’t give her long to adjust—because she asked for this.

“Kneel.”

24

The Seventh Cut

Violet

Slowly, I drop tomy knees in front of Saint.

The tile is cold and unforgiving. And it hurts worse where I cut my knee when I fell in the forest. But I’ve already stripped naked, and I’ve allowed him to lock me in here, so there’s no use pretending I don’t want this.

Just like I can’t deny that the first time I ever got excited was watching a masked man hunt a girl in the movie theater. Saint might be forcing me to face these realities I’ve buried, but he isn’t the one who planted them there. He shines light on secrets I’ve been running from.

Truths I submit to at this moment.

The single bulb that lights the room is shielded by Saint towering over me. His dark expression nearly glimmers with amusement at my obedience.

“Very good, kitten.” He reaches out, grazing my jaw with his thumb. “Someone is curious.”

I am. I want answers—to his fraternity and to him. I want to test my limits and see if I’m strong enough to come out the other side of this.

“What does my being naked have to do with Sigma Sin?”

“Everything.” Stepping back, he reaches for the hem of his T-shirt and strips it off, revealing the hard cut of his chest to me.

He’s solid muscle, and my gaze roams the deep grooves that lead down to his jeans.

The one time I tried to take his shirt off him, he stopped me, and now I know why. On his pec, beneath one collarbone, are seven claw marks. Six are healed scars, but the seventh cut is fresh, red, and angry. The ripped skin is still healing, and from the look of it, it must have happened in the last week.

“I told you this room is a place for judgment.” Saint tosses his T-shirt to the side. “And to properly judge someone, you need truth. Vulnerability.”

Saint circles me, grazing my jaw as he passes, walking behind me and running his fingers through my hair.

“Do you feel vulnerable right now, Violet?”

I nod, biting my tongue when I have so many questions. I’ve managed to get him here, and if I want him to open up, I need to be willing to listen.

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