Page 39 of The Fall of Sin (The Sins of Saint 2)

He leveled me with a pointed stare, and there was nothing playful in the depths of his eyes. His features were stone, his irises dark and heavy—a drastic change from mere minutes ago.

“Is this another stunt of yours, like the one where you watched me take a shower?”

He crossed his arms and slanted a brow. “You are a lot of things, Mila, but obedient is not one of them.”

“Are you only realizing this now?” I challenged, determined to not show weakness. But my belly was filled with equal parts fear and anticipation. Saint had shown me alesscruel side to him the last few weeks, but that didn’t mean I was no longer afraid of him. I knew the darkness that lurked within him. I’d been on the receiving end of that darkness more than once. Just thinking about it tied my insides with barbed wire, twisting and tightening.

As he took a step toward me, I instinctively inched back. The emotions I felt the day he forced me to take a shower were creeping back in. It was suffocating the desire that bloomed within me, little by little.

“Are you afraid of me, Mila?”

“If I remember correctly, I’m the one supposed to ask the question.”

His lips curved at the edge. “Answer my question, and I’ll grant you two.”

“Two questions?” The prospects intrigued me.

He nodded. “Two questions.”

This time, I took a tiny step forward, the cold from the floor seeping through my bare feet. “Fine. Yes, you do scare me even though you’ve been less cruel to me lately.”

His eyebrows dipped. “Cruel? Oh, Mila. I’ve never been cruel to you.”

“Excuse me?”

He inched forward. “If I were cruel, you’d be wearing rags instead of designer labels. You’d get stale bread to eat, and not Italian cuisine.” I swallowed hard as I watched him come closer and closer. “If I were cruel, you’ll be tied and gagged in my motherfucking basement. Your body would be aching from incessant fucking. Your thighs would burn from being spread-eagled for long periods of time while you have no choice but to take my cock over and over again.” He tilted his head and narrowed eyes framed with dark eyebrows. “If I were cruel, Mila, there would be nothing left of you. Just an empty shell that existed solely because I allowed it.”

The low tenor in his voice penetrated my spine with fear, and I had to shift from one leg to the other to stop myself from falling from weakened knees. After everything I’d been through with this man, I believed every word he had just spoken. The hidden warning in his words was that I had lost sight of who he really was—that I hadn’t seen the worst of him yet. The silent strength I had harbored vanished, replaced with uncertainty yet again. “Okay. So, according to you, you’ve been what? Lenient? Tolerant?”

“Dominant,” he replied with a smug look on his face.

“I won’t argue that.”

“Then do what I say. Take off your clothes.”

My skin turned to heated flesh as if he had already touched it. My lips parted as if he were mere moments away from kissing them. There were at least seven feet between us, but my increasingly rapid breaths and clenching thighs were as if he had his body pressed against mine.

“Will you be joining me?” It was hard to not stutter, his intimidating presence filling every empty space around me.

“If that little shower scenario is any indication, you will know that I will not be joining you. But I will be spectating.”

“Why? Why just stand in the shadows as an onlooker?”

He studied me from under dark lashes, eyes radiant in the sharp lighting. “As a man with plenty of valuable assets, I like to sit back and admire those possessions I’ve worked so hard to come by.”

“I’m not your possession, Saint.”

The smug look on his face suggested he expected my reaction. “Of course you are.”

“I’m not.”

“Then what are you? My captive?”

If it were a few weeks ago, I wouldn’t have hesitated to say yes. To say I was indeed his captive. But lately, it felt less and less like the truth.

“Tell me, Mila. What are you?”

I didn’t like how he was forcing me into a corner, shifting our conversation into a direction I wasn’t ready to go. “I don’t know.” It was an honest answer.

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