Page 12 of The Fall of Sin (The Sins of Saint 2)

Her body squeezed my cock with her inner walls, the heat of her core and slickness of her desire wrapping around my dick like a vise. My thighs slapped against her ass, and I grabbed her right arm, pulling it down in front of her. I forced her fingers to find her clit before placing my palm back on her hips, holding her steady so I could fuck her the way I wanted to. Own her. Mark her. Claim her.

Neither of us spoke a single word. The open space around us sang with the resonating sounds of my groans and her cries, mixed with our heavy and heady panting breaths.

Mila craned her neck, wild curls hanging down her back, and I could feel her cunt throb around my dick as she came, her pleasure ricocheting in her cries as she climaxed so fucking hard her inner walls clamped down on me, and I could no longer hold on to the last shred of control I had. It slipped out of my grasp, and my balls tightened as my orgasm tore up my spine, down my chest, and slammed against my cock. A groan ripped from my throat, a low rumble of dominion as I pulsed every last drop of my cum inside her.

Adrenaline swooshed inside my veins, my fingers biting into her hips, and my mind was nothing but a frenzy as pleasure exploded, forcing its way to every corner of my body.

Mila glanced over her shoulder, her cheek flushed and lips plump. “Liar.”

4

Mila

This wasn’tthe way it was supposed to go. The entire way in the car, all I thought about was how I wanted to get away from him. How much I hated him for being willing to kill my brother in order to get me back so he could continue this war with his dad. Never in my life had I come across one human being who was so selfish, so vengeful that he didn’t care who he hurt in the process. Yet, when he had me pinned against the tree, the lies in his words a complete contradiction to the truth in his eyes, I succumbed. For the first time since this mess started, Saint had challenged me, and not the other way around. He dared me to see through the deception of his tongue, and to hear the dishonesty in his voice. And I did. The shades of blue in his eyes reflected that which he couldn’t say. He knew it. He wanted me to see it without him having to let his guard down, without him having to expose his weakness. Me.

While Saint towered over me, his body pressed against my back as he leaned with his hands above my shoulders against the tree, I felt the warmth of his breath against my neck. His heat penetrated my bones, his presence swathing me, and that was the moment I felt it. The comfort. The solace. Something I’d never felt before. If I was an impulsive person, someone who acted on a whim without caring about consequences, I’d let myself fall. I would let go of the uncertainty, the distrust, and throw caution to the wind while spontaneously falling head over heels for this man. But that wasn’t me. I wasn’t the reckless type. The girl who would leave everything to chance in order to experience a flaming passion that had the power to drown an entire lifetime of heartache and pain, no matter how temporary. But that wasn’t me, which was why I couldn’t let my guard down—especially when my heart was on the line and I still harbored slivers of doubt.

Saint brought his lips to my ear and traced his tongue along the curve, causing me to shiver. “Don’t. Ever. Run from me again.”

This time, there was no trickery or falsehoods hidden behind his words fortified by an unspoken threat. And he didn’t need to say anything else to make me understand how serious he was. I heard it loud and clear and glanced at him over my shoulder. “Don’t ever again make me feel like I’m nothing but a whore to you.” I turned around to face him, my skirt still bunched up around my waist. “I am your wife, and a Russo wife deserves the respect of her husband.”

He slanted a dark brow. “Respect is earned, not demanded.”

“And neither is marriage, yet you demanded that.”

The edge of his mouth curved slightly, a subtle hint of amusement. “If I keep you,” he traced a gentle finger down my jaw, “will you continue to fight me?”

I leaned my head to the side, deeper into his touch. “With every breath.”

Seconds slipped into moments as we stood there staring at each other as if the world around us no longer existed. I didn’t know what it was, but something shifted between us. The barrier that kept us apart was slowly starting to crumble, and I wasn’t sure whether it thrilled me or scared me. What would we find once the barrier was destroyed and nothing but dust?

Without moving away, he pulled his tie from around his neck and reached down between my legs. A breath slipped from my lips when I felt the soft silk against my sex. His eyes never left mine as he cleaned me with his tie, wiping away the remnants of our climaxes. His touch was pushing me toward that damn edge once again, but before I could completely succumb to it, he pulled away and tucked the tainted tie into his pants pocket. My body shivered when his knuckles grazed against my naked thigh as he pulled my skirt over my hips and bent to pick up my tattered panties from the ground, stuffing them with the tie in his pocket. “At the risk of ruining your underwear in the future, I’m inclined to request that you no longer wear them.”

I pursed my lips and watched as he zipped his pants and fastened his belt. “I don’t think you’re in position to request anything at the moment.”

“And why is that?”

“You wanted to kill my brother, so consider a denied request a light sentence.”

With a smirk, I turned and walked back to the car, not looking back to see whether he was following.

The Maserati parked on the side of the road complimented its owner perfectly. It was like whoever designed this goddamn car had Saint in mind when he did it. Seductive styling, dominant luxuries, and a thick Italian accent that screamed from every curve. Was there no end to this man’s wealth? To his power?

As I reached the car, Saint grabbed my wrist and flung me around, pulling me flush against his chest. I gasped, and he claimed my mouth with one hard and heady, desperately forceful kiss. His fingers pressed into my cheeks as he puckered my lips more, holding me in place so I couldn’t pull away. The fierce laps of his tongue against mine, the way his mouth all but devoured my own as he searched for my taste, it made my legs weak and my heart strong. There was nothing tender about his kiss. It wasn’t loving, or caring, or an act to show affection. It was an act of hard passion to show ownership. To take and to mark, to make sure I knew who I belonged to.

Him.

He tore his lips from mine, his tongue lapping up what was left of our kiss. “I’m not done with you yet,segreto.”

“What do you mean?”

He sucked air through his teeth. “You ran from me. You think I’m going to let that go unpunished?”

Chills wracked through me at the memory of my last punishment. I could still feel the burn of leather on my flesh just thinking about it. “I’m not playing one of your sexual games, Saint.”

“Who says I’m playing?”

I stepped back, my lips tender from his fierce kiss. “If I asked you not to hurt me—”

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