Page 33 of Saint Valentine

She didn’t answer, just shoved me away.

I let her go. My eyes followed her as she rushed into the bathroom, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

Suddenly I felt more sober.

What had happened?

Chapter sixteen

Aria

What the hell was wrong with me? How could I let him get to me like that? How could I let myself forget, even for a second, who he was? He had said it himself—he ruined and killed. He was dangerous, unpredictable, and yet, there was a part of me that wanted him anyway. A part of me that craved his touch, his attention, his obsession. A part of me was drawn to him, drawn to the intensity, the heat that radiated from him. I was letting lust and sentimentality cloud my better judgment.

My body was going haywire, and I didn’t know how to get it back under control. Every nerve was on edge, every thought scattered. I hated him. I hated what he’d done to me, what he was still doing to me. But I hated myself more for how I responded to him.

I splashed cold water on my face, trying to wash away the emotions he’d conjured. Wash away the confusion, the guilt, his scent. It was sweet but dark, like smoke after a fire. It was heady, intoxicating.

But the water didn’t help. I still felt like I was losing myself, piece by piece, and I didn’t know how to stop it. I needed space away from him to make sense of what was happening. It hadn’t even been a full week with him, and I already felt attached. I had waited up for him as long as I could, had worried about him while he was out.

The sound of the door slamming open echoed through the bathroom, jolting me from my thoughts.

I stood in front of the mirror, gripping the sink, trying to steady my breath as I felt him enter behind me.

I didn’t turn around. I couldn’t face him yet. I had just came all over his face and ran. That looked weak. I felt weak.

I didn’t move, didn’t speak.

He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. He was too much. Too fucking much. The attraction, the rage, the fear of losing myself in his fantasy of us—it was alltoo much and was starting to tangle together inside me, leaving me dizzy and lost.

“Why are you fighting me, Aria?”

“I’m not fighting you,” I said, my voice coming out shaky. “Fighting you is pointless. You're going to do what you always do—try to bend me to your will, to control me.” I swallowed hard. “I’m fighting myself. For who I am. I can’t give in to you. I don’t want this. I have to remember that you forced me here. This isn’t a passion or love. I’m not meant to be here. This isn’t fate. I’m not your salvation Saint.”

“You don’t get to choose who you are in my world,” he said, his voice hard.

“I actually can. You can force me to marry you, but I don’t have to give in the way you want.” I exhaled sharply. “It took you getting drunk to show any emotion that wasn’t you demanding something or grunting or growling at me. That coupled with telling me how destructive you are and how you can’t change didn’t help your case. It hurt it.”

I shook my head. “My daddy said you would need a strong woman if you survived your father, and I agree. But you didn’t survive, Saint. You’re just a more frightening version of him.”

Before I could process what happened, he was right behind me, his breath hot against my ear, his big body pressing into mine, his dick hard against the small of my back, making sure I could feel of it. I could smell my pussy on his face, and I almost moaned at the memory of how it got there.

His hand tangled in my hair. He snatched my head back, forcing me to look up at him. The fury in his eyes was enough to keep me still.

“Don’t compare me to him. You don’t really know me,” he growled. “And the thing is—you don’t have to want me. You don’t have to like me. But you’re mine regardless,” he continued, his voice low and dangerous. “You’re mine, Aria. I’m tired of having this conversation.”

His grip on my hair tightened, pulling me closer, his lips brushing my ear. His free hand ran down the curve of my body, his palm covering my pussy.

I hated that I was already messy wet, and more juices were leaking out of me.

“All I need is for your body to keep responding like this,” his voice dripping with satisfaction. “You’re already giving me everything I need.”

“Let go of me,” I managed, trying to pull away.

He didn’t let go. If anything, his grip tightened, and his fingers started moving, stroking my clit.

I stopped fucking breathing.

“Why, so you can lie to yourself?” he asked, his voice mocking. “You don’t want me to stop. You can lie to yourself all you want, Aria, but your body doesn’t lie.”

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