Page 146 of The Billionaire's Secret

He drags his hands up the backs of my thighs, loops my ankles over his shoulders.

He pulls back, then slams inside me again, and the sensation of his gorgeous thickness filling me, stretching me...MyGod! I'll never be the same after this. Fucking, love-making... Whatever name I may give it... It’s a primal meeting of our flesh, our souls. Something knotted inside of me dissolves. The climax bubbles up, waves of tension ebbing, then flowing forward. "Saint," I choke, "I can't..."

"You can," he growls.

The fullness inside me pushes up, needing wanting, demanding that I give in to it.

"Saint," I whisper.

"Eyes on me," he snaps. I jerk my gaze up to his, and the force of those blue eyes pins me in place. My chest hurts and a pressure builds at the backs of my eyes.

His lips kick up, a fierce smile lighting up his face.

"You're beautiful," the words spill out of me.

His smile widens and his gaze intensifies. "And you're mine."

"Yours." I nod.

"Come with me." He thrust forward and my orgasm overpowers me. I arch my back, open my mouth, and hear the sound of someone wailing. That's me, I know, but I can't stop myself. Tears blur my vision and I collapse, as he comes inside of me. I hear his harsh groan from somewhere above me. He slips down to cover my shaking body with his, his face nestled against my breast.

We stay in that position for a few seconds...maybe minutes. He anchors me as my body quakes and tears stream down my cheeks. Finally, my breathing steadies, mirrors his. I sense his heart thudding against my chest. His weight on me grows heavy, my limbs protest, but I don't say anything. This...whatever this is...it’s different.

Does he realize how things have subtly shifted between us?

He stirs, then moves onto his back, pulling me on top—and wow, he's still inside of me. I mean, that's not easy to achieve, I'm sure, but he pulls it off without missing a beat.

He drags his palm across my hair and his fingers snag on a knot.

I wince.

"Sorry." He plays with my hair, undoing the knot with the same intense precision that he seems to bring to so much in his life.

"I began self-harming not long after my mother died, " his voice rumbles against my ear. "So much was not in control, then. I had no idea how to cope with the anger inside of me, which was already building after the incident. And when she died, my world fell apart. She was the only one who understood the level of PTSD I had from the incident, the only one who indulged my compulsion to speak in riddles."

He pauses, his throat moving as he swallows.

"But the strain of it all became too much for my parents. They broke up. She left home. Right after she left, my father told me I was the reason for the change in their relationship. I was a mistake, you see? There was no space in their marriage for me. He blamed me for what had gone wrong."

"Oh my god." I stare at him horrified.Why the hell would his father say that? And his mother? How could she have left Saint, when he needed her the most?

His features tense. "A month later, she died in an accident. I'm afraid I didn't take it well."

"I'm so sorry," I whisper.

"You have a knack for getting to the truth, don't you?"

I glance up at him, "Only with you, Saint." I rub my cheek against his chest. "Only you."

He pulls me close, tucks my head under his chin. "Sleep." His voice is soft, but my body seems to obey his command on instinct. Darkness closes over me.

"What? When did it happen?"

Saint’s voice filters into my sleep-addled brain.

I come awake slowly, tuning into his words.

"I can’t come right now, I’m…" He stops speaking. Guess he’s on the phone? Who is he talking to? The same person who’d called him the last few times when he’d left me?