Page 16 of Taint My Soul

“Yes.” I give a firm response that my body believes it, even though my mind doesn’t. That word tastes foreign in my mouth, even though I’ve been saying it all night.

A grunt tears out of my throat, and I grip the sheet. He pushes deeper until he’s buried deep inside me, then he relaxes until the pain dissolves into something pleasurable.

He presses into me, moving in a slow, measured rhythm, rocking my hips as his skin bites into mine in a slap. My eyes move from the headboard to the amber light on the nightstand. My fingers grip the sheets so hard that my knuckles turn white.

“Fuck.” The word slips from my lips as I fall back against the bed. He pulls me up and puts me back in the same position.

“Stay.” He grunts.

One word, and my body complies.

I have to give him my obedience. I have to make him happy.

Saint’s grip softens around my ass, then tightens as he increases his pace and rhythm, easing in and out of me. His hand snakes around my neck and lifts me up. His fingers tread along my carotid artery and clench my throat, but not hard enough to choke. He leans into my ear and whispers. “It’s Saint. My name.”

But I already knew that.

I already knew everything about him.

Because I’m here to ruin everything he stands for. Even though he’s so blinded by lust that he can’t tell.

“Take what you need from me.” I whisper. “Take me like you own me.” I grunt out the words even though I don’t mean any of them.

“Take off your mask.”

Fear grips every nerve ending of my body, and my shoulders stiffen. “I can’t.” I’m not sure if he should know who I am. Not when I’m walking into his company next Monday.

He pulls out of me, and I fall onto the bed, twisting around to face him. When our gazes lock, I see a man fighting a battle, even though he’ll never admit it. He doesn’t even give me the chance to pick apart the emotions on his face because his features go neutral in an instant.

I expect him to ask more questions, but he doesn’t push for an answer.

I pull back, leaning against the headboard, taking control subtly. He kneels on the bed and moves toward me, stretching out his hand to take the pillows and place them together. He lifts me onto it and groans, “Hold your legs back.” He unties me, and I rub my wrist before I snake my hand around my thighs.

I obey him, knees lifting backward. He picks up the bottle of lube and spills some more on my ass and his engorged length. He leans closer and his dick slides into me in one glide.

The pale ring of his irises has been swallowed whole, but a haze of pleasure lingers, lips still parted as he exhales sharply, thrusting into me relentlessly. His lips part even more, a gasp slipping free. When he can no longer bear the intensity between us, he flips me over so that I’m lying beneath him. His hand parts my legs as he buries himself into me.

I endure thrust after thrust. Broken moans slip through my lips. I squeeze my eyes shut only to hear him whimper.

“Fuck.”

He pulls out of me and spills his release against my ass. My body stiffens and sags, relief washing over me. It’s over. I remain pressed against the sheets even as he gets off the bed and heads to the bathroom.

I can’t bring myself to move.

My skin crawls with disgust that hits me from every direction. A soft whimper leaves my lips as tears gather in my eyes. I breathe through it. He can’t see me like this.

From the bedroom, the steady rush of water carries through the door as I lie still against the sheets. After a while, it cuts off, leaving the suite too quiet. The bathroom door opens, and he steps out, a towel slung low around his waist, droplets still tracing down his skin. He dries himself off, puts on his clothes, and leaves the suite.

My heart sinks. The reverberation of the door lingers at the back of my mind like a ghost.

I let out a trembling breath and slide off the bed, bare feet hitting the floor as I head for the bathroom. The water washes everything down the drain, but it doesn’t take the emotions I feel with it. My body drags. My thoughts lag a step behind. A dull fog settles over me, thick and hard to shake, yet I push myself through those doors and return to the dressing room. I change into my clothes and leave the building to wait for my driver.

Maybe when I’m home, I’d feel better. I’d forget about what just happened to me tonight.

The drive back to my apartment seems to be endless until the driver stops in front of the building. I pay him and get off, heading upstairs to my unfamiliar home.

Inside, it’s awfully quiet, like I’m walking through a graveyard in the middle of the night.