Page 4 of The Sins of Saint (The Sins of Saint 3)

“Somehow it changes when you lie. The color, it fades. Loses its radiance.”

“Why would I lie about something as futile as my random thoughts?”

He placed his lips against the corner of my mouth, and I held my breath with parted lips. “Because you still don’t trust me.” His voice was nothing but a rasp, his thumb stroking across my bottom lip. “And now that you’re carrying my child in your belly, your maternal instincts have intensified that distrust.”

“Don’t be absurd. In my mind, I’ve only been pregnant for two days. There’s nothing maternal going on in my thoughts.”

“Then why have you been clutching your belly ever since we boarded the plane?” His eyes studied me, scrutinized my every feature. “Am I still a threat to you?”

I swallowed hard and felt his palm against my throat. Our eyes were locked, my thoughts hollow and body frozen within a moment where time stood still.

“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully. “Even after everything that’s happened, I’m still not sure what your intentions are with me.”

The blue depth of his eyes remained calm as he stared down at me, and like so many times before, it gave me no clue as to what he was thinking—not an inkling of what thoughts ran through his mind. It was both unnerving and riveting at the same time.

Seconds passed. Or was it minutes? Hours? While his stare entranced me, I lost all sense of time along with my inhibitions. And look where it got me. Trapped in a forced marriage and knocked up.

I wrapped my fingers around his wrist and tried to loosen his hold, but he didn’t budge. He tightened his grasp for a second—a mere display of dominance. Ownership. Blue eyes beamed with amusement. He loved that he could still intimidate me. But he loved my fight even more.

I jerked my face from his hold. “You know, one would think since you had such a colorful goddamn sex life before you kidnapped me, only to perform such a blasphemous act in front of God by forcing me to marry you, that you’d be a little more clued-up on—I dunno,” I shrugged, “how tonotget a woman pregnant.”

A second of silence passed—a second I regretted every word that just came out of my mouth, not knowing what the repercussions would be.

But then a low, rumbling laugh tore from his throat. “Are you serious?”

I let out a breath. “I am.”

“One would think that a young woman who grew up on the streets of New York would be a little more clued-up on—I don’t know,” he mocked, “birth control.”

I glared at him over my shoulder. “What are we, twelve?”

Pain radiated up the back of my neck as his fingers abruptly bit into my flesh, causing me to gasp as he pulled me back, his lips covering mine before I could manage a breath. His tongue delved into my mouth, a dominant display of possession, and he stole every ounce of oxygen from my lungs.

My back barely touched the seat before his arm slipped around my hip and he easily scooped me up, forcing me to straddle him, my knees pressing into the expensive leather of the seat.

His kiss didn’t falter as he fisted the hair at the back of my head, pulling me closer, our lips locked in a desperate embrace as if we stood at the edge of devouring one another. But by the way his tongue claimed every corner of my mouth, his kiss tasting of lust and greed, I knew there’d soon be nothing left of me.

“You have a smart mouth.” His voice was a rasp as he barely parted his lips from mine. “Sometimes I can’t decide whether I want to kiss it or fuck it.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck, the battle already lost as I succumbed without a single moment of hesitation. “You do a pretty good job doing both.”

He jerked my head back, and I gasped, his heated kiss now a burning caress of his tongue across my throat. “I spent hours on that flight thinking of a hundred different ways I want to fuck you.” He reached between us, the sound of his belt buckle a mere echo of the sin we were so eager to commit. “Every time you crossed and uncrossed those pretty legs of yours, my dick ached to spread them.”

The words that seeped from his mouth were laced with seduction, a liquid poison that annihilated all inhibitions. “I lost count of the times I had to stop myself from dragging your ass to the bathroom so I could tie you to my shower and watch you gasp for air as water cascaded down your face. I’d fuck you so hard you wouldn’t be able to close that smart mouth of yours, and you wouldn’t be able to think of anything other than my cock while you drowned so willingly for me.”

“Jesus Christ,” I murmured, the image he painted nothing short of diabolical. But the darkness in me craved it. Loved it. Desired it. And when I felt his hand slip up my thigh, pulling the fabric of my romper to the side, every muscle in my body tensed with anticipation. With the flick of his wrist, I heard the fabric tear as his fingers effortlessly ripped my panties. That was when I knew I couldn’t be saved. Not from his kiss, his touch, and this twisted lust that had my body wound up so tight I’d snap in half if he didn’t have his way with me. I had made peace with the darkness, peace with how I was unable to fight it. Marcello Saint Russo ruined me, and there was nothing I could do to change that. Not while his hands teased my skin, while his lips burned my soul, and not when his body demanded the submission of mine.

Saint nudged against my entrance as he eased a finger through my slick heat, an appreciative moan rolling from his lips as he relished my evident arousal.

“I’ll never grow tired of you always being ready for me, Mila. It’s both a blessing and a curse to know every minute of every day I can have my way with you whenever I want.”

I leaned my head to the side as he continued to lap against the sensitive skin of my neck. “Why a curse?”

He slipped a finger inside me, and my body quaked from the welcome intrusion. “Because now my mind is stuck inside the darkest pits of hell, constantly thinking of ways to make you break for me.” He moved his hips and snaked an arm around my waist, the fabric of his pants brushing against my thighs. Effortlessly, he lifted my weight as he pulled out his cock. “I’m the devil,segreto. And you are the only soul I want to torture until God brings His judgement down upon me.”

His fingers bit into my shoulder, and he forced me down, leaving my body no choice but to take all of him with one hard and deep thrust. The blunt pressure between my thighs felt exquisite, and the waves that rippled up my spine caused an irresistible impulse to move. I wanted to rock my body on top of his, sway my hips and take my own pleasure. But he kept me in place, both arms wrapped around my back and hands firmly holding me down so I couldn’t budge an inch.

“Don’t move,” he warned, his gaze latched onto mine. “I want to watch you fight it.”

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