Page 44 of The Fall of Sin (The Sins of Saint 2)

I stepped into the master bedroom and stood at the end of the bed with Mila still clutching tightly around me, her mouth ravishing the skin on my neck as if she had been starved for my taste. Her tongue was velvet against my skin, and I leaned my head to the side to give her more of me to sample. More of me to consume. I wanted her to have her fill of me, to tear my soul from my body and greedily devour it.

Teeth nipped at my earlobe, and I let out a low, rumbling laugh. “My little,segreto. If only you knew the destruction we’d leave in our wake.”

Her warm breath danced across my neck. “The world can go down in flames around us. I. Don’t. Care.”

A groan rolled from my throat, and I grabbed her, tearing her from my body and tossing her on the king-sized mattress.

Emerald eyes beamed, wild with lust, her body squirming on top of the satin sheets.

I didn’t take my eyes off her naked body as I pulled my pants down, finally releasing my aching cock—hard and ready to take what was rightfully mine. Ready to claim my wife once again.

“My path to hell has already been paved with sin. But you, Mila…you are the one sin I’ll indulge in until the flames engulf me.”

15

Mila

It was agony,the way my body burned. The way every muscle ached, my insides twisted and taut as arousal pooled between my legs.

I bit my bottom lip as I watched him towering at the end of the bed. Naked and carved from stone by the hand of Adonis himself, Saint’s appeal was amplified by the dominant powers he exuded simply by breathing. He held himself proud, regal, even while on the verge of delving into the depths of sin. Every curve, every inch of him down to his hardened cock was smooth, tight…perfect. My fingers ached to touch, and my thighs throbbed with a need to welcome him.

He reached up to the top of the four-poster bed, arms stretched out, tightening every muscle in his chiseled body. “You say you’re ready for the world to burn.”

I arched my back as if his words caressed my heated skin. “Right now, I’m ready to burn.”

The smirk that had his lips curved with malicious intent reminded me how thirsty I was to taste him again. “That’s all you have, isn’t it, Mila? Your fire. This darkness to burn.”

“A darkness I never knew before you.”

He dropped his arms, still smiling. “A corruption I would gladly pay for with blood.”

He reached to the corners of the bed and pulled out what looked like black, looped ties. The devilish grin on his face was both sexy as sin and infuriating as hell. “Something I added to our bedroom decor while you were admiring the luxuries of the suite.”

He wrapped his fingers around my ankle and effortlessly tied the black satin around my feet.

“Lie back, Mila.” His tone was hard, rough, a clear indication that this was one of those times for me to shut up and obey. Which I did, squirming against the ties as he secured my arms. The satin was soft against my skin, and I tested its strength by lightly tugging at the constraints.

Saint went to stand at the end of the bed again, admiring the view in front of him. Me spread-eagled and bound for his pleasure. A few weeks ago, the idea would have mortified me, but now it only made me squirm, needing him so much more.

One knee at a time, Saint settled between my legs. With his body upright, his cock hard and ready, I could see arousal bead on the tip. He touched the inside of my thigh with a single finger, leisurely stroking upward.

My legs trembled the closer he came to my center. My core quickened with anticipation as I waited for his touch with bated breath. A touch he merely teased me with as he traced a fingertip down the cleft of my thigh, purposely avoiding the place I needed it most. Tremors possessed my legs, my body overwhelmed by sensation and wantonness. I bit my lip while his touch continued to torture me, feeling like I was about to burst into flames as I writhed on top of the sheets.

“I love seeing you squirm for me, how your body just takes over and demands.” The rich, deep tone of his voice, the seduction that dripped from his words seeped through my skin and penetrated my blood. My body wasn’t mine anymore. I no longer controlled it. He did.

The second he slipped a finger through my slit, I arched my back at the welcome intrusion.

“Oh, Mila. Your body never disappoints.” He pushed his finger inside my welcoming heat, and I craned my neck as my body arched off the bed, powerful shockwaves of pleasure pulsing through my veins. “You were right, you know. The part where you said I’m addicted to being inside you.” He bent his finger and massaged my inner walls with gentle strokes. I writhed, moaned, and my hips moved as my control slipped. “I am addicted to you. I’m addicted to your body. Your fire. And as God is my witness, I’m addicted to this sweet cunt of yours.” He bent at the waist, and I cried out when his tongue lapped against my sex while his finger kept a steady rhythm. The satin sheets started to feel like sand against my hyper-sensitized skin. The tip of his tongue licked from where his finger entered my body, all the way up to the tiny bundle of nerves that throbbed. Faster, harder, his greedy tongue drove me to the brink of madness while my body was on the verge of snapping in half.

“Saint, you’re going to kill me.”

“Oh, but what a sweet death it would be. A life raptured by the crescendo of pleasure.”

I shivered when his warm breath danced across my wet, swollen pussy. Pressure started to build between my thighs, a deeply-rooted ache that was about to explode into a climax that would sever all control.

“Not yet.” His mouth was gone, his finger slipped out of my body, and I was left hanging at the edge of the cliff.

“Jesus. Fuck,” I cursed and jerked at the restraints. “Stop, please. Stop torturing me.”

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