Page 26 of The Fall of Sin (The Sins of Saint 2)

“What better way to show you who’s in control than placing your life in my hands?” With his one arm wrapped around me, he positioned himself between my legs. “A wife should trust her husband.”

“A husband shouldn’t risk the life of his wife,” I countered.

“You need to trust me, Mila.” He reached down between us, and the tip of his cock nudged at my entrance, igniting renewed desire that slowly smothered the fear of sitting on a ledge, one wrong move away from plummeting into the ocean. “Can you do that?” Sapphire eyes bored into mine, the darkness of his carnal hunger casting shadows across his every feature.

He brought his lips up to mine, slightly parted, ready to consume me with a greed fueled by a lust strong enough to suffocate every rational act, every logical thought. Nothing about this moment, about us, had ever been rational or logical. It was reckless, foolish, and coated in madness. But I had never felt so alive as I did in that moment.

Fear subsided as he eased his cock inside me, filling my body to the brim and chasing away all my inhibitions.

I leaned my forehead against his and let out a shaky breath at the same time he exhaled. One hand slithered up my spine, fingers grabbing the back of my neck as he wrapped his other around my waist. “How does it feel, Mila? To know I could let go at any time, yet not care because all you want, all your body wants right now, right at this very moment, is the pleasure only I can give you?”

“You’re crazy,” I muttered breathlessly, his cock slipping out of me and back in.

“Am I?” Abruptly, he slammed his lips against mine and kissed me as if he was the one sitting on the edge of the barrier, as if he would be the one falling to his death if he didn’t taste me. Ravage me. Devour me.

His tongue swept through my mouth like a hurricane—his taste blended with mine to form our own brand of heroin. A drug only we could get high on. Intoxicated and drunk with desire, I clawed at his scalp while kissing him back with equal vigor. The summer breeze grew stronger, a wind that sliced around us, as if it could feel the energy that surged from my body to his. Waves of electricity that crackled so loudly, it drowned out the sound of caution. All I heard was the thump of my wildly beating heart, and the filthy melody that played from our lips.

Saint inched back, his cock still buried to the hilt inside me. “You say I’m crazy, yet you’re the one sitting on a ledge craving my cock more than you crave your next breath.”

“A carnal sin I’ll probably pay for dearly by going to hell.”

“The devil needs to take you from me first.” His hips flexed, and he plunged hard into me, my ass shifting farther off the edge. But I didn’t care. The white crested waves below us were long forgotten. The only thing that mattered was this high we were on. The ecstasy. This feeling of invincibility while our bodies merged together as one.

It was crazy. I was crazy, but by God, I trusted him. In that moment of rapture, I trusted him with my life. A blind trust that made me bold, confident, brave…irrational.

I let go of him and dropped my arms to my sides, wrapping my fingers around the ledge. A whimper slipped from my lips when he thrust between my legs and tightened his grip behind my neck. He reached up with his other arm, and his fingers tore at my dress, pulling the fabric down to expose my breast, the salty air dancing across my naked skin.

“Jesus, Mila,” he muttered as I leaned back, arching my body and craning my neck. The only thing that kept me from falling was the unsteady grip I had on the ledge and his strong arm snaked up my back.

“You wanted me to trust you,” I breathed. “This is me trusting you.”

I clenched my thighs, squeezing him tight between my legs. A guttural moan ripped from his throat, and he bent down, taking my hardened nipple in his mouth, tugging, sucking, lapping, devouring. He kept a steady rhythm, rolling his hips with every thrust. If he lost control, if he gave in to the frenzy that threatened to consume him, he would lose his grip and I’d tip over. But he was right, I cared more about the pleasure I knew he could give me than the breath that could be my last.

His tongue teased the tip of my nipple before it slipped from between his lips. His rhythmic thrust never faltered, my arousal making it easy for his cock to move in and out of me. My body had grown accustomed to him, adjusted to him as if it had finally found the one it belonged to.

I wanted to lean back more, suddenly addicted to the thrill and how the adrenaline heightened my senses, intensifying every sensation that possessed me. But Saint growled and cursed before grabbing my arm and pulling me up, both arms coiled tightly around my waist.

With my body flush against his, I wrapped my arms around his neck, his warm, labored breaths kissing the sensitive skin of my neck. “You are poison, Mila.”

“Yet I’m the one slowly dying.”

He grabbed my hair and yanked my head back, his teeth grazing against my throat. “I will hunt for you even in death.”

His thrusts became stronger, harder, deeper. My whimpers turned to moans, creating a sonnet of chaos together with the sound of waves below us.

Saint reached between us, and I cried out the second he touched my clit, pressing down hard, giving me the last push I needed to reach the crescendo I had craved ever since I walked up those goddamn stairs.

My body erupted, every muscle pulled taut as the orgasm he fucked into me threatened to tear me apart. His fingers bit into my sides, and he buried his face in my neck, cursing as he came, pouring his climax inside me.

After one final thrust, he yanked me from the ledge, and we both collapsed, spent, our breaths loud and rapid. My heart was beating like a drum, an echo of exhaustion and adrenaline blended together in a rapture I had never experienced before.

I was still trying to catch my breath when his arms took me captive and pulled me close, chest to chest so our hearts beat as one. With his back against the barrier, Saint settled me on his lap and cradled me in his arms. The moment was powerful enough to stop time, the moment Marcello Saint Russo showed me more affection than he ever had before. His arms didn’t bind. It didn’t apprehend or arrest. Even though he held me tight, it wasn’t because of his physical strength. It was desperation. As if he tried to cocoon me, trying to stop me from slipping from his grasp. For a second, I wasn’t sure whether I was just high from fucking on the edge—literally—and if this was really happening. Was it possible the stone-cold walls that constantly surrounded Saint had begun to crumble? Brick by brick. Piece by piece?

We didn’t speak. We didn’t move. We sat there for what seemed like hours yet felt like seconds. Time seized. Circumstances vanished. And all that remained was us. Two people under a blanket of stars where the world around us no longer existed.

Saint eased his hand up and down my arm then glanced at his Rolex. “It’s twelve-o-two a.m. New day. New question.”

“I’m not sure I want to ask you anything right now.”

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