Page 65 of The Rise of Saint (The Sins of Saint 1)

“Surely there has to be a less revealing swimsuit among the other fifteen Elena charged to my credit card.”

I laughed. “Are you serious right now?”

“Is there anything in that statement that makes you think otherwise?”

“Yeah. The fact that you think you’re entitled to have an opinion over what I wear.”

“You are my wife.”

“Yet you’ve been ignoring me like I’m nothing.”

He didn’t look at me and kept staring out in front of him as if he didn’t even hear me.

“You know what? Screw this.” I got to my feet, about to walk away, when he reached out, grabbed my arm, and pulled me down on his lap, air rushing from my lungs with a huff.

His body was cold and wet, yet flames surged and raged through my core the second I looked into his eyes.

He bit his lip and stared at me like I had angered him. Like he was on the verge of losing control. Our gazes remained locked for what seemed like a small eternity, and I was aware of every breath he took—his chest rising and falling, the vein in his neck pulsing to the rhythm of his heart.

“Why do you insist on challenging me, Mila?”

“Why do you insist treating me like I’m not good enough for you?”

“Is that what you think?”

“What else am I supposed to think?”

“You’re supposed to think nothing.” He bit out his words, and my heart hiccupped.

I expected more cruel words to follow, but then the grip he had around my arm loosened, and his gaze fell to my naked shoulder. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, the sight reminding me of what he tasted like—a thousand sins dipped into a single fantasy.

He dragged a finger up my arm, and a shudder wracked through me, my veins heated with desire coated with adrenaline. “You’re supposed to fear me, not challenge me.” His finger circled over the swell of my breast. “Your body is supposed to reject my touch, not welcome it.”

“What makes you think my body welcomes your touch?”

His dark brows arched. “Another challenge?”

“Maybe.”

He leaned his head to the side and traced his finger down across my nipple. Slow. Sensual. Seductive. It pebbled beneath his touch, and a part of me wanted to pull away, be angry at the fact that he had ignored me for days. But my body wouldn’t let me, loving and needing his touch too much.

He drew a lazy circle around my nipple before moving down. “You walk around dressed to tease me, wearing something as flimsy as this bikini, fabric I can easily tear off so I can have my way with you. Have I not hurt you enough?” He let his finger linger on the naked flesh around my navel. “Have I not proven to you that I’m not a good man?”

My breathing became labored, and I clenched my thighs when I felt his cock harden against my hip. Anticipation flared, a throbbing need between my legs desperate to be filled. It no longer felt as if days had passed. My body was as high as it was the day he fucked me against the goddamn wall.

I shifted so his hard length pressed perfectly against my ass and watched as his eyes turned from man to hunter. Animal to predator. “Have I not proven to you that I’m stronger than you thought the day you took me?”

“Strong, yet so naïve.”

Abruptly, he forced his hand between my legs, cupping me hard, his expression fiercely primal. “I can smell your arousal, Mila. It clings to you, and it’s fucking tempting me. That is why I need to be careful with you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“There is so much you don’t understand,segreto.”

His hand pressed harder against my heat, as if to show ownership, my slit already slick and primed to take him. I clenched my thighs with his hand between my legs, panting breaths lapping from my lips.

“So much you don’t know.”

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