Page 44 of The Sins of Saint (The Sins of Saint 3)

“When I left, you were half asleep.” He handed me a bottle of water. “Yet now you’re wide awake.”

“I guess the idea of fondling you until dawn filled me with renewed energy.”

He sat down on his knees in front of me and leaned forward, supporting himself on his arms placed beside me as he forced me back little by little. “I think I changed my mind.”

“About what?”

His lifted a hand, his fingers teasing around the edge of the sheet that covered my breasts. “I think I’d much prefer to be the one doing the fondling.” He eased the silk sheet down my body, leaving me naked in front of him.

The hunger in his eyes intensified as he bit his lip, his gaze leisurely easing down my body and back up again. “If you weren’t carrying my child, I’d tear these silk sheets into ribbons and tie your wrists to your ankles, making it impossible for you to close your legs.”

My core tightened, the clear visual he painted causing my heart to race. “I’m pregnant, Saint. Not disabled.”

He leaned forward and brought his lips close to mine. “As much as I’d like to go back to our kinky fuckery, I’m not taking any chances.” He touched my chin with his thumb, brushing my skin and igniting a fiery desire in my core. “But once you are mine again, and mine alone, I’ll have no mercy on this very willing body of yours.”

The idea thrilled me, and I shivered. My relationship with Saint might have been complicated, but the sexual connection and pull between us was simple. My body was his whenever and however he wanted. Rough, hard, relentless, and dominating—the exact appetite he had awakened inside me. But for now, slow and easy would have to do.

17

Mila

I was walking on air.

A week had passed since Saint proposed to me the good old-fashioned way. I caught myself staring at the ring on my finger like a newly engaged woman who still had to plan the wedding of her dreams. Only difference was…I was already married.

Saint seemed more at ease, acting like a doting husband with zero inhibitions about the public display of affection in front of Elena and the new security guard who worked in James’s place while he was still out of town.

Elena was strengthening, and I loved that she was here. I’d spend most of my day hanging out with her during the times Saint had to take care of business, using the farthest room in the apartment as his study.

I couldn’t lie. The more I looked at the closed door of his office, the more I wondered what it was he was doing. What type of business did he run? Surely, if it was something he couldn’t share with me, that meant he wasn’t selling Girl Scout cookies or working on the solution to global warming. But I made my decision weeks ago. I’d never ask him what went on in his office, which meant he’d never have to lie to me. I had to find a way to deal with my curiosity, and to leave well-enough alone. Besides, if I were honest with myself, Saint could turn out to be the leader of the world’s biggest drug cartel and I’d still be hopelessly in love with him.

“Please tell me we are going back to Italy soon, Marcello.” Elena placed down her fork and took a sip of her mimosa. “This New York air is so stuffy, and I swear my hair is less manageable in this weather.”

Saint rolled his eyes. “Your hair is perfect.”

“Only because I spend hours in the morning trying to tame it.”

I snickered and took a bite of my croissant. Brunch was the only time all three of us would sit together and eat outside on the deck. Most nights around dinner time, Saint would be in his study working. And when he wasn’t, he preferred us spending the time alone—either out on the deck, or in the bedroom between the sheets. But he kept true to his word and contained his dominant side during sex. I wished he wouldn’t, and I had tried numerous times to entice the beast in him. He was right. I had developed a taste for the way he fucked, and I craved it every time he touched me, and I saw the same hunger in his eyes whenever he was inside me. We both needed more, but I understood his need to be in control around me now that I was pregnant.

Saint placed his napkin on the table and leaned back. “If you’d like to go back to Italy, Elena, you are more than welcome to. You have full access to my estate as well as The Empress. There’s no need for you to stay here with Mila and me.”

Like a switch, the atmosphere went from light and airy to heavy and thick. I watched as Elena’s expression went blank, and for a second, she stared at Saint as if words eluded her then diverted her gaze down to her plate. “I guess that is true, yes. I’m so used to traveling with you and taking care of you, I didn’t even realize it’s no longer necessary since,” she glanced up at me, “you have Mila now.”

There was a bite in her tone, and a sharp edge in the way she looked at me from across the table.

“You should be relieved,” Saint said with a half-smile. “Now you can travel the world without worrying about me.” He took my hand. “I’m Mila’s problem now.” He winked at me teasingly, and I smiled. But something told me this wasn’t what Elena wanted to hear.

“Well,” Elena started and brushed a strand of blonde hair from her face, “I’ve always wanted to go to South Africa and stay long enough to do some sightseeing.” She looked my way. “But Marcello never stays longer than two days, so I’ve never had the chance to go to Cape Town and look at the view from Table Mountain.”

Saint shrugged. “I’ve never seen the allure of that city. I only go there when I have business to attend to.”

“See?” Elena lifted a playful brow at me.

“I’ll contact my travel agent and have her arrange a trip for you.” Saint got up from his chair and placed his hands on my shoulders. “If you’ll excuse me ladies, I have to call James. There are a few things he needs to do for me before he returns.”

“When is he coming back?” Elena asked before taking the last sip of her mimosa.

“A few days.” Saint kissed me on the cheek, and I smiled at the loving touch of his lips against my skin.

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