The Fall of Sin

by Bella J

  Lightning crashed the second I captured her mouth with mine. Our lips locked, fused together as our tongues sparred for control, desperate to taste what it craved so fucking much.

  Each other.

  I swallowed her moans and squeezed my hand tighter around her neck, feeling her pulse against my fingertips. The harder I gripped her throat, the fiercer she pumped my cock in her palm.

  With my free hand, I tugged the linen tablecloth, plates of food, glasses, and cutlery clattering to the ground. I grabbed her waist and lifted her feet off the ground. As her back hit the table, her legs opened for me, and I pressed my body hard on top of hers. She struggled to keep a hold on my dick as I flexed hard and forcefully against her. I was all animalistic urges and cruel intentions as my body’s urge to fuck took over.

  I let go of her throat and palmed her tit—kneading, tugging…taking. Her back arched as she reached down, forcing her hand deeper into my pants to play with my balls, a simple touch that sent me into a frenzy of lust that threatened to let me blow my load in my motherfucking pants like a teenager.

  I flexed my hips, wanting nothing more than to devour her and sink balls deep inside her cunt while feeling her body writhe beneath mine.

  Our lips grazed and knotted, our moans turning into a filthy melody of depraved desires and lust that had us both brazenly racing to the edge as fast as possible. I thought I had lost all control…until I felt her teeth against my lip, and she bit down, instantly drawing blood which I tasted on my tongue a second later.

  I stilled and stared down at the drop of my blood that stained her bottom lip. The thought of what my blood tasted like on her tongue was all the beast needed to break out of its cage. To finally be set free and tear the last sliver of innocence she had left from her body.

  She pulled her hand from my pants and stretched both her arms up over her head. A sign of complete submission. Permission for me to do what I wanted.

  I touched her bottom lip with my thumb, dragging the drop of blood over the edge of her mouth. “One lesson my father taught me, the only one I took to heart…never tame your demons, but always keep them on a leash.”

  With one sweep, I picked her up, her legs wrapped around me as I carried her down the hall. Desperate fingers weaved through the hair at the back of my head as she held on to me, her tongue lapping down the curve of my ear. The sound of her rapid breaths was an echo of my own desire and need. It was toxic. Lethal. Disabling. With every step, it consumed me, and I forgot all about the world outside. Right here, right now, it was just us. Us and the loud noise of our lechery. It was deafening. I couldn’t even hear the sound of my own heartbeat. All that mattered was to calm the storm that raged between us, and the only way to do that was to let it take what it needed to still its hunger.

  Us.

  I stepped into the master bedroom and stood at the end of the bed with Mila still clutching tightly around me, her mouth ravishing the skin on my neck as if she had been starved for my taste. Her tongue was velvet against my skin, and I leaned my head to the side to give her more of me to sample. More of me to consume. I wanted her to have her fill of me, to tear my soul from my body and greedily devour it.

  Teeth nipped at my earlobe, and I let out a low, rumbling laugh. “My little, segreto. If only you knew the destruction we’d leave in our wake.”

  Her warm breath danced across my neck. “The world can go down in flames around us. I. Don’t. Care.”

  A groan rolled from my throat, and I grabbed her, tearing her from my body and tossing her on the king-sized mattress.

  Emerald eyes beamed, wild with lust, her body squirming on top of the satin sheets.

  I didn’t take my eyes off her naked body as I pulled my pants down, finally releasing my aching cock—hard and ready to take what was rightfully mine. Ready to claim my wife once again.

  “My path to hell has already been paved with sin. But you, Mila…you are the one sin I’ll indulge in until the flames engulf me.”

  15

  Mila

  It was agony, the way my body burned. The way every muscle ached, my insides twisted and taut as arousal pooled between my legs.

  I bit my bottom lip as I watched him towering at the end of the bed. Naked and carved from stone by the hand of Adonis himself, Saint’s appeal was amplified by the dominant powers he exuded simply by breathing. He held himself proud, regal, even while on the verge of delving into the depths of sin. Every curve, every inch of him down to his hardened cock was smooth, tight…perfect. My fingers ached to touch, and my thighs throbbed with a need to welcome him.

  He reached up to the top of the four-poster bed, arms stretched out, tightening every muscle in his chiseled body. “You say you’re ready for the world to burn.”

  I arched my back as if his words caressed my heated skin. “Right now, I’m ready to burn.”

  The smirk that had his lips curved with malicious intent reminded me how thirsty I was to taste him again. “That’s all you have, isn’t it, Mila? Your fire. This darkness to burn.”

  “A darkness I never knew before you.”

  He dropped his arms, still smiling. “A corruption I would gladly pay for with blood.”

  He reached to the corners of the bed and pulled out what looked like black, looped ties. The devilish grin on his face was both sexy as sin and infuriating as hell. “Something I added to our bedroom decor while you were admiring the luxuries of the suite.”

  He wrapped his fingers around my ankle and effortlessly tied the black satin around my feet.

  “Lie back, Mila.” His tone was hard, rough, a clear indication that this was one of those times for me to shut up and obey. Which I did, squirming against the ties as he secured my arms. The satin was soft against my skin, and I tested its strength by lightly tugging at the constraints.

  Saint went to stand at the end of the bed again, admiring the view in front of him. Me spread-eagled and bound for his pleasure. A few weeks ago, the idea would have mortified me, but now it only made me squirm, needing him so much more.

  One knee at a time, Saint settled between my legs. With his body upright, his cock hard and ready, I could see arousal bead on the tip. He touched the inside of my thigh with a single finger, leisurely stroking upward.

  My legs trembled the closer he came to my center. My core quickened with anticipation as I waited for his touch with bated breath. A touch he merely teased me with as he traced a fingertip down the cleft of my thigh, purposely avoiding the place I needed it most. Tremors possessed my legs, my body overwhelmed by sensation and wantonness. I bit my lip while his touch continued to torture me, feeling like I was about to burst into flames as I writhed on top of the sheets.

  “I love seeing you squirm for me, how your body just takes over and demands.” The rich, deep tone of his voice, the seduction that dripped from his words seeped through my skin and penetrated my blood. My body wasn’t mine anymore. I no longer controlled it. He did.

  The second he slipped a finger through my slit, I arched my back at the welcome intrusion.

  “Oh, Mila. Your body never disappoints.” He pushed his finger inside my welcoming heat, and I craned my neck as my body arched off the bed, powerful shockwaves of pleasure pulsing through my veins. “You were right, you know. The part where you said I’m addicted to being inside you.” He bent his finger and massaged my inner walls with gentle strokes. I writhed, moaned, and my hips moved as my control slipped. “I am addicted to you. I’m addicted to your body. Your fire. And as God is my witness, I’m addicted to this sweet cunt of yours.” He bent at the waist, and I cried out when his tongue lapped against my sex while his finger kept a steady rhythm. The satin sheets started to feel like sand against my hyper-sensitized skin. The tip of his tongue licked from where his finger entered my body, all the way up to the tiny bundle of nerves that throbbed. Faster, harder, his greedy tongue drove me to the brink of madness while my body was on the verge of snapping in half.

  “Saint, you’re going to kill
me.”

  “Oh, but what a sweet death it would be. A life raptured by the crescendo of pleasure.”

  I shivered when his warm breath danced across my wet, swollen pussy. Pressure started to build between my thighs, a deeply-rooted ache that was about to explode into a climax that would sever all control.

  “Not yet.” His mouth was gone, his finger slipped out of my body, and I was left hanging at the edge of the cliff.

  “Jesus. Fuck,” I cursed and jerked at the restraints. “Stop, please. Stop torturing me.”

  He moved, spread his legs, and positioned his knees on both sides of my hips, his eyes level with mine. “I’m not torturing you. I’m preparing you. Making sure your body is primed and ready for what’s to come.”

  “Oh, it’s ready, in case you didn’t notice when you were down there.”

  He snickered, his lips glistening as he leaned down and kissed me, allowing me to taste my arousal on his tongue. It was the sweetness of desperation that titillated my taste buds one long, hard kiss at a time.

  “What is it you want, Mila?” He flexed his lips, the tip of his cock touching the flesh of my pubic bone, the wetness of his pre-cum sticking to my skin. I closed my eyes and moaned, lifting my waist as far as my restraints allowed in a desperate attempt to find what I needed.

  Saint grinned, with a glint of mischief in his eyes. “So greedy.”

  “So cruel,” I challenged.

  He stretched out over me, his hands brushing up my arms as he slowly scooted higher…higher, skin against skin, until his length reached my lips, and he sat up straight. “Suck my dick. But if you make me come, I won’t give you the same courtesy.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. Suck my dick, but if you make me lose control, I won’t give you what you want.”

  Before I could say a word, he thrust his cock into my mouth, forcing it all the way back to my throat, causing me to gag, my lungs complaining from the lack of air. It was impossible for me to swallow, and my spit now only had one purpose—to lubricate his length that filled every inch of my mouth.

  “Don’t move that pretty little head of yours,” he ordered as he loomed over me, grabbing hold of the headboard.

  I didn’t move, the taste of him exploding in my mouth. Low, guttural groans sliced through the silence as he flexed, slipping his length farther into my mouth and then out again. It was impossible not to lap my tongue against the hard ridges, to twirl it against the tip of his cock.

  “Fuck,” he cursed and gripped the posts harder. “Don’t do that, Mila. You’re going to make me come.”

  His words were fuel. It was gasoline, fueling my need for pleasure—whether it was his or mine. I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t stop myself from moving my head, sucking and lapping his shaft even though I knew I’d pay dearly if I made him come.

  “Mila,” he warned yet didn’t attempt to stop me, “make me come, and you won’t.”

  Jesus Christ. How was I supposed to not be greedy for his taste? How was I supposed to stop?

  His hips moved faster, more vigorously as if he was chasing his own pleasure now. Dear God, I wanted him to come. I wanted him to taste his pleasure on my tongue…even if it meant denying myself the same.

  My cheeks hollowed as I sucked, twirling my tongue around the ridges of his cock.

  “Mila.”

  I glanced up, sweat beading on his chest, his body hard and taut, muscles roped with strength and power, yet I was the one who currently held the power in my hands. Not even the restraints could stop me from taking control over him, over his body. Finally, I understood his need for control. I understood its appeal, how the sense of power could be addictive and so goddamn sweet.

  “Fuck!” He pulled out and grabbed my cheek, squeezing hard as he glared down. “You just can’t fucking obey me, can you?”

  I couldn’t answer. My lips were puckered as his fingers bit into my flesh, pain radiating down my jaw. But I glowered at him from under my lashes, made sure he saw I didn’t regret it defying him. In fact, I challenged him with a single stare. A single meet of glaring irises. Sapphire blue and emerald green. A combat of depraved darkness.

  “I should let you continue sucking my dick and shoot my cum down your throat, then leave you here, bound and unsatisfied.” He shifted down, the soft feel of his thighs against my sides sending shivers up and down my spine.

  “I should leave you here unfucked.” He let go of my cheek with a jerk, red-hot heat spreading to the now sensitive flesh. Then he straightened, and I gasped when I felt his cock nudge at my entrance. He rolled his hips and slipped inside me, but just an inch. “But maybe the worst punishment I could give you right now is to continue teasing you.”

  “Please, don’t.” Tears welled at the corners of my eyes, the agony becoming too exhausting to endure. “Please, don’t keep doing this to me.” A tear slipped down the side of my face, pain stemming from every corner from my body.

  He wiped at the tear with the pad of his thumb and brought it up to his mouth. “Nothing is as sweet as a woman’s agony.”

  I closed my eyes, my body spent without even finding the climax it had craved for hours. “Stop. Please.”

  “Look at me, Mila.”

  There wasn’t enough strength in my veins for me to open my eyes.

  A gentle hand cupped my cheek. “Look at me.”

  I managed to look up at him, every dark and hard line his features had carried gone, replaced with something I had never seen on him before. “Now you know how you make me feel.”

  “What?” My voice was a mere whisper.

  “This is what you do to me.” He leaned down and pushed forward and into me. “You force me to the edge.” He pushed a little more. “You make me feel weak, because I can’t fucking control you.” I whimpered as he filled me, burying himself to the hilt inside me. “I can’t protect what I can’t control.”

  His words slammed into my chest like a wrecking ball of confessions. The look in his eyes, the gentle waves of blue left no trace of the anger and the cruelty I’d grown familiar with.

  “Do you understand now, Mila?” He reared back, slipping out of me completely. “Tell me you understand.”

  More tears flowed from my soul and down the sides of my face. I nodded. “I do.”

  This time, he plunged back into me, hitting the center of my core, and I tugged at the restraints, pulling it taut as I balled my fists.

  “No more, Mila.” He remained still inside me. “No more.” It was there, in his eyes. A vulnerable desperation a man like him should not have to show or feel. There was far too much power running through his veins for him to succumb to weakness. Saint was meant to rule with an iron fist. Meant to dictate. Meant to control. The ruthless, callous, powerful man I had fallen hopelessly in love with.

  “No more,” I whispered, and he sealed our silent promise with a kiss that reached all the way to the depths of my soul. Our tongues danced, reaching every corner of our mouths, and his thrusts grew stronger, harder, more desperate as he rocked us both to the crescendo we craved.

  His body moved. His back arched. His cock fucked. Over and over again, my body became his, molded to fit him perfectly. Our breaths blended, and our moans escaped in unison.

  “Come for me, Mila.”

  I didn’t know it until then, but when he said those words, my body exploded into a billion pieces as if it had waited for those words—waited for his command, his permission to shatter. Pleasure surged through my veins, and the satin restraints stretched tight as my entire body convulsed with a climax that tore through me like a violent hurricane. Waves crashed against every bone, and my core quivered as the apex forced a loud cry from my lungs. “Saint.”

  “I’ve got you, Mila,” he cooed as my orgasm ripped through my body. “I’ve got you.”

  Saint continued to move inside me, buried his face in my neck and groaned the moment I felt his cock jerk, pouring his pleasure into me.

  His body went lax on top of me,
and my every limb was numb with exhaustion.

  I took a deep breath. “No more, Saint. No. More.”

  16

  Mila

  Exhausted and intoxicated with the flood of endorphins, I crawled onto my side the second Saint untied me. Remnants of pleasure still lingered in my bones, my mind peaceful as if all the weight I ever carried on my shoulders had been lifted. The darkness was gone. The all-consuming need for release satisfied and appeased.

  I heard his heavy footsteps around the room but couldn’t gather enough energy to open my eyes. A satin sheet was pulled over me, and I snuggled deeper into the pillow.

  “Saint?”

  “Yes, Mila.”

  “What time is it?”

  The mattress dipped as Saint crawled into bed with me. “It’s almost midnight.”

  “I still have time to ask my second question.”

  “Indeed, you do.” I heard the amusement in his voice.

  I turned around on the mattress to face him. He lay back on a stack of pillows with his arm behind his head, staring out in front of him.

  “You’re surrounded by all this wealth, but I don’t know exactly what it is you do.”

  He glanced down at me. “I’m a businessman.”

  “That part I do know, but what type of business?”

  Saint scooted down and turned on his side, our eyes leveled and faces inches apart. “I’m not going to give you some smart-ass answer to that question, Mila. I know I said I’ll answer your questions truthfully, but this is one answer I can’t give you.”

  “Why?” I whispered.

  “I’m not a good man, Mila. I’ve never claimed to be or pretended otherwise.” He reached out and gently brushed a finger down my cheek. “I’m the villain in this story, the devil in the world I’ve sucked you into. But somehow, somewhere, you also made me the husband who would do anything to protect his wife.”