Page 7 of The Sins of Saint (The Sins of Saint 3)

Mila’s nails dug into my shoulder as she steadied herself, the rhythm she had starting to falter the closer she came to climax. Jesus, I was seconds away from creaming her pussy, and I had to clench my thighs and force myself not to move my hips. I wanted this to be all her.

Her needs.

Her terms.

Her demands.

“Christ, I’m going to come.” She rasped, out of breath, and I lifted my head to look at her. To witness her undoing.

“I just…fuck. I need more. It’s not enough. It’s not…Jesus Christ.” She flipped her hair over her shoulders as she threw her head back, her tits bouncing beneath her shirt. And that was when I realized my wife wasn’t able to do this alone. She fucking needed me. She would always fucking need me.

I grabbed the fabric that kissed her chest and yanked hard, tearing it straight down the middle of her breasts. The black bodice she wore was no match for my destruction as I ripped it down so I could grab her tit and suck her nipple hard.

“Yes,” she whimpered with relief, yet her body was rigid, heat radiating from her every pore.

She pushed her chest toward me, my back firmly against the seat as I sucked, lapped, and licked her swollen nipple.

“Pain,” she muttered between labored breaths. “I need pain. I need it. I need it now.”

I bit down, pinching her breast between my teeth. Mila cried out, and I felt her pussy pulse around me as she came—hard and violently. Her body shuddered, her arms shaking and hips moving completely out of rhythm as she rode out her pleasure. I groaned against her tit, and this time I gave a hard thrust beneath her, forcing myself as deep as her body would take me. But then she jerked up, my dick slipping out of her.

“Jesus fucking Christ, what are you doing?” I grabbed her hips, but she pulled away, shooting me a menacing smirk with her plump lips.

“Giving you a taste of your own medicine.”

“Do not fuck with me, Mila.”

“It sucks, doesn’t it? Teetering at the edge, your pleasure right there for you to take, yet…you’re denied it.”

The inside of my veins burned, my heartbeat a deadly storm behind my ribs. “If you don’t get that pussy of yours around my dick right now, I swear to God I will shove my cock so hard down your throat you’ll taste my balls for the next twenty motherfucking years.”

My dick was aching, my muscles complaining with agonizing tension. I could practically feel my balls squeeze and contract, one motherfucking stroke away from shooting ribbons of cum on my ten-thousand-dollar suit.

Mila fell down beside me, her romper in tatters, and the silk of her torn panties slipped to the side. “I know what you were trying to do, Saint.”

“Good, then you know what needs to be done right fucking now.”

“No.” She brushed her fingers through her wild curls, her cheeks still flushed. “You were trying to let me think I was in control when, in fact, I wasn’t.”

I shifted, my dick still out of my pants and ready to pound. “Well, from where I’m sitting, you were pretty much in control of the entire fucking show.” I couldn’t even mask my annoyance if I tried.

Mila sat up straight, closing her thighs, and every goddamn bone in my body cracked since what I needed more than my last breath depended on those sexy-as-fuck thighs being spread wide open.

“It’s all smoke and mirrors with you, isn’t it, Saint?”

“Jesus, Mila.” I grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer, but she resisted, fought me by using all her strength to try to pull back.

“You will never give me control.” She spat out the words and tried to twist her wrist from my grasp. “Especially when it comes to sex. You use sex as a fucking tool, Saint. A weapon to keep me in line, and to make sure I never forget that you control everything when it comes to me. To us.”

I wrapped my fingers around her throat, squeezing tightly as I snarled, very much aware that she was pregnant, yet the anger fused with lust created a rage I couldn’t control.

I brought her face close to mine and bit out my words between clenched teeth. “Spread those legs for me, Mila. Don’t make me ask again.”

“No.”

I squeezed her cheeks and grabbed her knee while biting my lip. My dick was so fucking hard, and the rageful lust that crippled my control had me seconds away from showing my wife the real meaning of owning her. “I said spread your legs so I can fuck some obedience into you.”

She lifted her chin. “I said no.” Her emerald eyes were poisonous daggers of insurgence. “I know it’s not a word you’re used to hearing from women. Do you know what no means, Saint?”

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