REYNA

The beads of water softly caressed my skin as evaporation massaged every tense muscle. I wasn't sure how long I stayed here with my back pressed against the marble wall. All I knew was that my fingertips were beginning to wrinkle and my tears had finally stopped.

Saint's words kept repeating themselves in my mind over and over and over and over again. There was always this voice in the back of my mind that Saint only echoed. Now, the voice was amplified, triggering my recurring depression.

My mother could be dead, I've always questioned that. However, I always imagined my mother's death to crash down on me. There was an ignition of a fire within my soul that wanted to keep fighting, and if she were dead, I've always assumed that the fire would quickly be unlit.

My heart beats for my mother. If she were dead—truly dead—so would I. There was no else in the world for me. I would be locked up in that house by the shore all alone. There would be no purpose for me. Loneliness, my best friend, would be the only person whispering that everything would be okay.

My mother is alive.

I turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. The towel I always used was hanging from a hook. I reached over, wrapping the soft, black cloth around my body.

I turned the door knob and pulled the door open. The moment I stepped into my dark room, I could just feel that something was off. I wasn't sure if it was the chill in my room or the uneasiness that caused the hairs on my body to stand accompanied by small goosebumps.

Slowly, I began to make my way to the door but just before I could get out, I was grabbed by my throat and pulled into a familiar chest. By the thick smell of rum, I knew exactly who it was.

"I've been waiting for you," he said, speaking into my neck almost seductively. As if the words he previously bombarded at me meant absolutely nothing, he stroked my bare thigh with his hand, causing my towel to travel farther up my body.

He let go of my neck for his hand to travel lower until he was grasping my breast in his palm. The hand on my thigh began to climb up and up until he was so close to my core that I was sure he could the heat coming from it.

"Saint," I said warningly. "What do you think you're doing?"

He chuckled so darkly that I wasn't even sure I was speaking to the same person.

Without a word, he cupped my pussy like it belonged to him. I was some doll he just received for Christmas, his new favorite toy.

It shouldn't have, but damn I couldn't stop how good it made me feel. I reached down to clutch his arm, trying to keep him from making me like it even more, but it only encouraged him to slide his finger into my pussy.

I tossed my head back against his chest as weakness settled in my knees, but the way he held my core was enough to support me. As he massaged my vaginal walls, he was playing with my breasts. I glanced down to watch as his finger rammed in and out of me, collecting my juices, proving my arousal.

"I'm quite thirsty," he whispered in my ear.

Just as my brows came together, he pulled his finger from inside of me and placed his hands on my towel where he ripped it off of me. I wasn't even given the chance to be shocked because he threw me on the bed.

"Santino," I gasped, backing away from him as he stalked towards me. His blue eyes were on me like he was chasing his prey. He claimed he was thirsty but all I could see was pure hunger and a promise that swore he was going to eat.

Instinctly, my hands came up to hide every part of myself that had never been seen by anyone other than me. However, it was pointless with the way his eyes could see through my best attempts of covering myself up.

"Are you drunk?" I asked the question that had been on my mind since I smelled his breath. If he wasn't drunk then he must've been mad.

"No," he said.

I was still backing up from him, even as he gripped my thighs and dragged me to the edge of my bed. I was doing my best to claw away from the savage beast, but he overpowered me.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I questioned.

I knew it was coming before it even happened as his hand curled around my neck, forcing my back to arch. He leaned down to the point I could feel his erection against my inner thigh.

With his lips just a whisper away from my ear, he told me, "everything."

My lips parted to allow some oxygen to flow to my lungs as his grip on my neck grew tighter and tighter. Reaching up to pull his hand off of me, I quickly found that there was nothing to help ease his grip.

I must've been insane because as he held onto my neck, my core tightened with intense anticipation.

He said everything was wrong with him. Little did he know, everything was wrong with me too.

His face immediately turned to sinister smile.

"I really fucking hate you, Angel," he told me. To make his point, his grasp on my neck tightened even further. "If you weren't so useful to me, I'd kill you in a heartbeat, burn you to ashes, and play with it like it's kinetic sand, don't you know that?"

With as much strength as I could muster, I attempted to pull his hand away, but I only succeeded in getting him to loosen it a bit.

"I hate you, too, Saint. If you weren't useful to me I would leave you out to rot and watch your empire that you worked so damn hard to build fall like it never meant anything. Watch who you're talking to because I will destroy you," I stated.

Saint dragged me closer to his face where he pressed his lips against my own. His lips were so warm and soft as it coddled my own. I couldn't help but part my lips, allowing his tongue to slip inside.

The way he was kissing me was so intense. I could feel it throughout my entire body, especially my pussy. There was a throbbing ache that lurked deep in my core, begging him to touch me. No matter how hard my logic tried to fight it, it remained defeated.

I could hate Saint with my entire soul, but my lips, my body, my desire would always crave him. It scared me, but not the kind of scare that would make me cower under a bed... it was a thrill. Every sensation I felt in my body only intensified at being under the mercy of Santino Venturi—the man I couldn't stand.

Saint pulled away from my lips to kiss down my neck, sucking, biting, and licking my skin. I was drowning in the sounds of my own gasps and moans as he took my nipple into his mouth, circling his tongue around the areola. My head was spinning and I wasn't sure if I wanted it to stop.

Reaching down, I tangled my fingers into his hair, forcing him to stay put. I loved the way he could make my toes curl with every single flick of my bud with his tongue. It drove me insane that this man could work my body in a way that no one else had ever bothered to. He pulled away to pay attention to the opposite nipple, gripping my breast in his hand like he never wanted to let go.

Saint licked down my body, traveling to the roof of my pussy where he slid his tongue down my skin. Instantly, I arched my back to accompany the throbbing in my core. He placed his finger against my slit where he rubbed up and down, applying just the right amount of friction. Saint then flicked my clit with the tip of his tongue, coaxing a moan out of me. I gripped the sheets in my hands as I pressed myself closer to his face, pleading for more without saying a single word.

He slid his finger in between my walls where pressure began to build at the feeling of his strokes. Saint licked down from my clit to my lips where he thrust his tongue in to match the rhythm of his fingers. He removed his finger from inside me to grip my thighs and force them over his shoulders as his tongue went deeper into my cunt.

I tossed my head back to enjoy the way he sucked my clit before massaging my walls his tongue. It was too much, but it felt so damn good.

His hold on my thighs tightened as he drove his tongue impossibly deeper. A moan ripped out of me once he began to slurp up every drop my pussy had to offer. It wasn't until he began thrusting his tongue into me like a mad man that my legs began to shake. My whole body was set on fire and all I wanted was to burn.

Suddenly, I clamped my legs around him, and I moaned, and I shook, allowing an orgasm to sweep through my body. Saint drank up every bit of me as I came down from the explosions and fireworks. I could feel my heart beat slowing down and my body completely exhausted.

Saint pulled away from me, biting down on his lip as he looked down my body, memorizing every curve and unique mark. He stood there just staring at me, and strangely, I wasn't uncomfortable enough to cover myself. All I could do was look at him, wondering what could be going through his mind.

After a few moments, I wasn't sure if I imagined it, but it was almost like a ghost of a tear falling from his eye, gliding down his cheek.

"I lied," he mumbled. "I am drunk."

I continued to watch him as he got into my bed, his face buried in my pillow and his body already asleep.

"What happened with Adriano?" I asked, choosing to forget the hurtful words he shot at me in the car earlier... for now at least. I could feel something heavy weighing on him, and my curiosity couldn't let it go.

"Gone," was all he said.

For a second, I wondered if he killed him, but I knew that was far from the truth. It could be possible that Adriano left.

"Do you miss him?" I asked reluctantly, knowing that it's not a typical question to ask a psychopath.

Saint grumbled into the pillows before turning to face me with closed eyes. "Do you miss your mom?" he asked.

"Do you miss yours?" I wondered.

He opened his eyes to look at me and even though neither of us had answered a single question, the answers were obvious.

"We're a lot alike, Little Red. Only difference is that one of us is too naïve to see that no one in this world will ever give a shit about us. That's all I want for you," he told me, shutting his eyes again.

"And all I want is for you to stop pretending like you don't give a shit about the world when you do," I whispered, grabbing my towel and wrapping it around myself.

I laid down beside him on the bed. My tiredness was kicking in, and even though I wasn't sure if he would be staying, I knew for a fact that I was going to sleep.

Saint didn't respond like I expected him to. I thought he would lash out or say something to hurt me, but he didn't. When I turned to look at him, he had already been staring at me. The blue of his eyes were so crystal clear for the first time in probably a long time. As I looked at him, I could see just how lost the small boy within him truly was. I wondered what made someone so innocent become dark. What made Saint go from a scared boy to a scary man?

"Fuck, I'm about to throw up," Saint groaned.

—

Question: what do you think of Reyna?