Page 91 of Sinful Desires
Scarlett Stella Harper Lazzio.
The one woman I was never meant to touch, but would tear the world apart to keep.
Three years ago, when I had been drowning in my own darkness, she saved my life without even knowing it. She was the one sinking in a fountain. I was the one already lost in the ocean of my own ruin.
I had told myself to forget her. Tried to hate her. Tried to stay away. But I was already hers. Every brutal second. Every filthy thought. Every last inch of my rotting soul.
I loved her in a way no one should be loved—violently, obsessively, without a way out. Three years of silence had done nothing. Now I had broken the one fucking promise I’d made thirteen years ago. I was never supposed to let anyone thatclose again.
I realized it hadn’t healed anything. It’d only made everything worse. I was at her mercy completely. I would do anything to keep her.
Anything.
Even if it meant destroying myself in the process.
Even if it meant dying just to make sure she stayed mine.
Because the truth was, I already had. The part of me that could survive without her was long gone.
Her tongue dragged up my neck, slow and teasing, while my hands dug into her ass, pulling her tighter against me. She moaned into my skin.
“Well, you just fucked me so well, Théo,” she whispered, voice raw and breathless, “I almost wish I’d filmed it. Send them the whole thing. Let them see exactly how much I loved it.” She licked my lips, and a low groan left my throat.
I should’ve pulled away. But I wanted her to be mine. And I didn’t care how much of myself I had to burn to get it.
“I can’t believe you haven’t had sex in thirteen years.”
“I can’t fucking believe I just did.”
I had taken a vow of celibacy thirteen years ago.No sex, no closeness. I didn’t fucking deserve it.
Then she had come in and ruined everything.
I should care, but I didn’t. I was living the one fantasy I never let come to life, and it was a thousand times dirtier and better than I’d ever fucking imagined.
She hummed, low and dangerous, and dragged her finger along the edge of the ink carved into my skin.
À la vie, à la mort.
“What happened to you, soldier?”
“Life.”
“Why did you join the military?” she breathed out with a frown.
“Out of guilt.”
She tilted her head. Her lips were swollen from my mouth, her eyes still glassy with lust and something else, something raw. I grabbed the back of her neck, pulled her in, and kissed her again.
She leaned back, fingers splayed across the front of my vest. “Why?”
I stared at her face, at that fire-red hair tangled around her shoulders, at the ice blue of her eyes.
She’d once said I looked like an angel, but she was the one who had fallen. Dropped straight from the clouds. So beautiful it felt cruel. So radiant it hurt to breathe.
Sometimes I thought God had made her just to fuck with me. Built her perfectly, dropped her in front of me, and watched me lose my mind over something I could never have without bleeding for it.
I shook my head, like that could drive the madness out. But it didn’t.
