Page 32 of Saint Valentine

Her eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, she just stared at me, her gaze soft and unfocused.

“Hm, Saint…” she breathed out, like she was happy to see me.

Then she blinked, and the softness was gone. I watched her mental walls slam into place.

“What do you want?” she asked, her voice tinged with sleep.

I brushed a strand of hair from her face, my fingers lingering against her skin. She was so soft.

“I wish I could be different,” I said, the words spilling out before I could stop them. “I wish I could be the kind of man who deserves you. Your knight in shining armor, or some shit like that.”

She didn’t say anything, just watched me, her eyes searching mine like she was trying to figure if I was real or a dream.

“But I’m not,” I continued, my voice rough. “I’m a killer. A taker. I destroy everything I touch. I will ruin you. But I’ll make you love me.”

She still didn’t speak, but her breath hitched—just enough for me to notice.

I leaned down, my lips brushing against hers, and for a moment, she didn’t move. I pulled away and stared down at her. She was so beautiful.

“Don’t hate me, Aria,” I whispered. “I can’t let you go. You’re mine, like the sun is tied to the sky, like the ocean is bound to the shore. We were always meant to collide.”

I could’ve written a fucking sonata with all the things I wanted to say.

To my surprise, she leaned forward and kissed me.

It was soft at first, but then she deepened.

Her hands were everywhere, exploring every inch of my chest, my back, as if she couldn’t get enough of me. I could feel the heat radiating from her pussy, the way her body trembled underneath me, threatening to drive me crazy.

I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breathe.

I pulled away just long enough to yank my shirt over my head, my hands fumbling with it. Then I pulled hers off, leaving her in only her panties.

For a moment, I just hovered over her, taking her in. She was flawless. Fucking perfect. I needed to touch.

Her skin was like satin under my fingertips, smooth and warm. My hands roamed over her body, tracing the curve of her waist, the swell of her hips, before sliding back up to cup her breasts.

She gasped, arching into me, her nails biting into my shoulders as I teased her nipples, rolling them between my fingers. I could feel her heart pounding against my chest, her breath was coming in short, ragged gasps.

I traced her hot flesh with my tongue until she purred, pressed my lips against whatever skin was exposed, making sure not to miss an inch, moving lower and lower. My lips trailed a path down her slightly rounded belly, my hands gripping her hips.

She rose to her elbows to watch me, her eyes dark with desire, her chest heaving as she waited for what I would do next.

I hooked my fingers into the waistband of her panties. She lifted her hips. I dragged the lace down her legs, my eyes never leaving hers.

“Aria, baby,” I whispered, my voice barely audible as I pressed a kiss to the inside of her fleshy thigh.

She moaned, her hands tangling in my hair as my tongue flicked out, indulging. She tasted like nourishment I’d been searching for my whole fucking life.

I watched her as I dragged my tongue past her thick pussy lips, sliding inside her, then back to her clit, flicking and sucking her pearl until her moans grew louder, more desperate.

“Saint,” she gasped, her hips bucking against my mouth as I continued to pleasure her. I could taste her getting closer, her body tightened then a warm cream flowed. I sucked it out.

“Stop,” she demanded while her body was still trembling.

I stopped immediately, pulling my face from between her thighs to look at her.

“What’s wrong?”

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