Page 43 of The Fall of Sin (The Sins of Saint 2)

Our eyes remained pinned on one another, mine determined to intimidate, hers demanding an answer. Truth was, I didn’t have an answer to her question. There was no rhyme or reason for my actions when it came to her. One moment I was floored by this woman, feeling things I’d never felt before. But then I’d think back to the day she ran from me, the sense of helplessness I felt while I waited for James to track her. She had become my one and only weakness, and I had no idea how to deal with it, besides being an asshole. Being cruel. It made me do things that put the power and control back in my hands.

“You promised no lies, Saint. The truth.”

I shifted upright in my seat. “You want the truth?”

“Yes.”

“Fine. The truth is I’m not mindfucking you, Mila. You’re mindfucking yourself. I’m still the same man who killed your friend. The same man who forced you to marry him. And the same man responsible for all your tears.” I stood, the words of my misplaced anger burning the tip of my tongue. “You are the one who has been trying to find redeemable qualities in me. Fuck knows why. Maybe because you’re getting a taste of the good life I have to offer, and you think if I become your fucking dream man, you’ll be able to have it beyond our six-month agreement.” I slammed my hands down on the table, and Mila yelped as the cutlery clattered. “Here’s the thing, Mila. I don’t have any redeemable qualities. I will never be an affectionate husband who showers his wife with love and rainbows, and all that other romantic fucking bullshit.” I leaned over the table, wanting her to see the fire of hell burn in my irises. “You will never be anything more to me than you are right now—”

“A signature?” she interrupted. “Nothing but a means to get what you want? I remember you saying those exact words to me once before, yet everything that’s happened since then suggests otherwise.”

I scoffed. “Do not fool yourself.”

“No!” She shot up. “You can stand there and spit out all the hurtful words at me that you want, but you and I both know I’m not the one fooling myself here. You are.”

There it was. The motherfucker of all challenges. The one that threatened to rob me of the control I was hellbent on keeping. I had come too far and too close to ruining my father’s life like he had ruined mine.

I bit my lip, desperate to get a grip on the rage that threatened to dictate what I would do next.

Mila didn’t break eye contact and didn’t show any sign that she would back the fuck down. Instead, she stepped away from her seat, straightening her naked body which had been partially hidden beneath the table until now. Confidence painted her every curve as she sashayed toward me, moving like a siren. A seductress with a flushed pink blush on her cheeks and the shimmering of emeralds in her eyes.

“Last night, I saw a different side to you.” Her voice was melodic, her words calculated. “You spent the night holding me in your arms under the stars.”

“Don’t romanticize it.”

“I’m not.” She stilled before me, so close I could still smell her lingering arousal. “I’m just saying it as it is. Something you seem to have a problem doing.”

A snarl erupted from my lips as I grabbed her throat, squeezing it between my fingers and lifting her face as I leaned mine down. “Do not play this game with me, Mila. You will lose, and you will break.”

“I don’t care.” She reached between us, and I suppressed a moan when her hand brushed against my crotch, her fingers boldly unbuttoning my pants. “Break me. Use me. Mindfuck me.”

She slipped her hand inside my pants, fingertips brushing against the head of my dick as she boldly wrapped her hand around my girth. The powerful surge of desire caused me to tighten my hold on her throat with a snarl.

She sucked in a breath. “Do whatever you want to do to me, Saint. I don’t fucking care.” Her lips glistened with a temptation that aggravated my thirst for her taste. “But do not pretend you feel nothing. Do not pretend I’m just like every other pussy you’ve fucked. That you’re not addicted to how it feels to be inside me.” She reached deeper, stroked down my shaft until her fingers cupped my balls and gripped it tight. A violent urge to ram my cock into her needy little cunt slammed against my spine. “Because I’m addicted to it, Saint. Addicted to the feeling of having you inside me, stretching me, filling me to a point where I’m sure you’re going to break me in half.”

Lightning crashed the second I captured her mouth with mine. Our lips locked, fused together as our tongues sparred for control, desperate to taste what it craved so fucking much.

Each other.

I swallowed her moans and squeezed my hand tighter around her neck, feeling her pulse against my fingertips. The harder I gripped her throat, the fiercer she pumped my cock in her palm.

With my free hand, I tugged the linen tablecloth, plates of food, glasses, and cutlery clattering to the ground. I grabbed her waist and lifted her feet off the ground. As her back hit the table, her legs opened for me, and I pressed my body hard on top of hers. She struggled to keep a hold on my dick as I flexed hard and forcefully against her. I was all animalistic urges and cruel intentions as my body’s urge to fuck took over.

I let go of her throat and palmed her tit—kneading, tugging…taking. Her back arched as she reached down, forcing her hand deeper into my pants to play with my balls, a simple touch that sent me into a frenzy of lust that threatened to let me blow my load in my motherfucking pants like a teenager.

I flexed my hips, wanting nothing more than to devour her and sink balls deep inside her cunt while feeling her body writhe beneath mine.

Our lips grazed and knotted, our moans turning into a filthy melody of depraved desires and lust that had us both brazenly racing to the edge as fast as possible. I thought I had lost all control…until I felt her teeth against my lip, and she bit down, instantly drawing blood which I tasted on my tongue a second later.

I stilled and stared down at the drop of my blood that stained her bottom lip. The thought of what my blood tasted like on her tongue was all the beast needed to break out of its cage. To finally be set free and tear the last sliver of innocence she had left from her body.

She pulled her hand from my pants and stretched both her arms up over her head. A sign of complete submission. Permission for me to do what I wanted.

I touched her bottom lip with my thumb, dragging the drop of blood over the edge of her mouth. “One lesson my father taught me, the only one I took to heart…never tame your demons, but always keep them on a leash.”

With one sweep, I picked her up, her legs wrapped around me as I carried her down the hall. Desperate fingers weaved through the hair at the back of my head as she held on to me, her tongue lapping down the curve of my ear. The sound of her rapid breaths was an echo of my own desire and need. It was toxic. Lethal. Disabling. With every step, it consumed me, and I forgot all about the world outside. Right here, right now, it was just us. Us and the loud noise of our lechery. It was deafening. I couldn’t even hear the sound of my own heartbeat. All that mattered was to calm the storm that raged between us, and the only way to do that was to let it take what it needed to still its hunger.

Us.

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