Page 34 of Saint Valentine
I hated him for being right. My body was responding to him in ways I couldn’t control, and it made me feel powerless. But thatstill didn’t stop it from feeling good. I wasn’t supposed to feel like this.
He played with my pussy, alternating between finger fucking me and plucking at my clit, until I was dizzy with everything—everything he was doing to me, everything he was making me feel. When his tongue whirled against my ear, my knees nearly buckled. His grip on my hair kept me upright.
“I can’t wait to put babies inside of you.”
He chuckled low.His hand left my hair and slid down the curve of my waist, detoured to my belly, his fingers spread over the soft plane of her stomach, his thumb dragging slow circles across my flesh there “You want that don't you, my babies.Want me to fill you with my cum. You want to be my wife? Want my protection? Stop fighting, you want me. ” he whispered, his breath teasing her skin.
I closed my thighs, trapping his hand.
“Oh God-” my throaty whisper sounded like it came from somebody else mouth.
Without thinking, I gripped his wrist.
He snatched away then releasing me.
I stood there, my body still trembling, every nerve in me on edge.
“I’ll give you time, Aria,” he said, his voice almost too calm. “But don’t forget—I’m in control here.”
I heard his footsteps as he walked away. Then, the door slammed shut, the sound reverberating through the room. My legs giving out beneath me, I sank to the floor, , and buried my face in my hands. I didn’t know how much more of this I could take. I didn’t know how much more of him I could take before I gave in.
Chapter seventeen
Saint
I was giving Aria the space I promised. I left her at the house with guards while I took care of things. I drove alone. I had something I needed to do without eyes on me. I couldn’t stop thinking about what my father had said to me a week ago. A man doesn’t want to bury his son. It stuck with me because he didn’t seem worried about burying his. That thought, combined with how he treated me, made me remember something my grandmother once said…
Beep, beep.The unexpected sound of a car horn broke through my thoughts. The light had turned green. I pressed the gas.
A notification sounded on my phone. Someone had entered my side of the compound. I glanced at the surveillance feed on the phone, and my stomach flipped over. I knew who the SUV that stopped belonged to immediately. My father.
I hadn’t told the guards to keep him out. I hadn’t expected him to show up anytime soon after what I’d done to the Dillinger’s. It left him trying to clean up my mess and distracted, just how I needed him to be. But the way things were going, it was clear I’d underestimated him. He must’ve seen me leave, and now he was heading straight for Aria.
Shit.
I cursed under my breath and slammed my foot down on the gas. I made a hard U-turn, tires squealing as I sped back. My mind was racing. This wasn’t good. Not good at all.
By the time I got back, I was too late. Their raised voices hit me before I even stepped through the door. They were in the kitchen. I stood outside, listening.
“Marrying my son won’t save you,” My father declared, as if saying it made it so. “Not after you told him to shoot me. And he did. I won’t allow it.”
I heard Aria’s laugh.
“He shot you? You know I gave him that gun,” she laughed harder. “That’s crazy. That makes sense as to why you’re scared of him now. You deserved to be shot, you pathetic excuse for a man. My father warned you.”
She had no filter. She was still fearless. Part of me was proud of her for standing up to him, though it was stupid, especially when she was at a disadvantage.
My father’s next words were venomous. “Your father was weak, a waste of space. He got what was coming to him.”
I could hear the metal hit wood—
I stepped into the kitchen to find her hand on a fork that she’d stabbed into the table, inches from my father’s hand. She was dangerous. My adrenaline kicked up.
“Say something about my father again, you slimy bastard, and I’ll stab you in your fucking throat with this fucking fork. I know you were involved in what happened to my family.”
“Prove it,” he spat back.
“If I could prove it, you’d already be dead, you miserable piece of shit.”
