Chapter 7

SAINT POV

A vicious spark ignites my blood.

Her Amazonian figure sat well on her pear-shaped body. Her skin is the hues of the rich oak in spring rains. Her thick median arched brows eased down gently to her languid eyelashes of velvet-black followed by her adorable bulb nose resting on her face. Her full two-toned lips positively drooled with goodness. Her hair is a glorious tumble of light upon the night sea. Black strands glowing like a sweet poet's ink and quill and her virility-brown eyes set my heart a thump.

Christ, Irena was carefully built with perfection. Not a single flaw in sight.

As I lean against the door frame, I quietly watch her unclip her bra, slipping the straps off her shoulders then tossing the bra onto the bed. My gaze admiringly lingers on her full breasts. The itching urge to reach out and hold them, suck them; the feeling is tormenting me. Irena slips her night gown on then walks over to the glass window, sliding it open as she steps outside.

I ran my fingers through my hair, letting out a breath I did not know I was holding up until she left the room. Without thinking I find myself removing my shirt before accompanying her outside. When I appeared beside Irena she didn't bother to look my way as her gaze was glued onto the midnight ocean. The moonlight's shine kissing the waters as it glimmers like crystal dancing and twinkling all about.

It is clear as day that Irena is not so fond of me. I do not blame her. I'm not so fond of myself either.

Wind swept across the ocean with a bold honesty. The smell of sweetness gently caressed the tip of my nose, my hand tightening against the wooden rails. Instantly I grow addicted to the scent. Turning to face her. Irena's skin glows under the moonlight like a dream.

She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth briefly. "How long are we staying here?"

I inhale a lungful of the salty air. "One week." I answer. My eyes still fixed on her.

I'm staring at her like she's one of the most interesting art works at a museum on display but she's not one of them. She is the only one.

Her quietness draws my attention like she's the only woman I've ever seen in my life. Her beauty is breathtaking. A mixture of her Polish side and Brazilian roots make a great combination enhancing her features.

"So it will be one full week of you staring at me like a creep?" She pointed out. "Hmm." I trail off.

A light breeze tosses her lock of black hair across one eye and a violent need to reach out and sweep it aside, to let my fingers taste her skin. Stirs in my veins.

"Irena." Her name is a guttural command that gains her full attention.

She raises her face towards mine, her chest rising and falling with control breaths. "Are you afraid of me?" I inquired my brows knitted together, staring into those hues of brown eyes that have now darkened due to no natural light.

She doesn't respond immediately. Silence spills between us as she disappears somewhere inside herself. Again, I'm tempted to explore her mind. The famished hunger disgustingly grows in me. Consuming me with each passing second. I want to explore the parts of her that she keeps hidden.

The deepest darkest parts.

I want its secrets.

Finally, she opens her mouth and says, "I'm not afraid of you Saint." Nervousness drips from her sweet-like voice.

She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, a subconscious act I've picked up on her when she is nervous, anxious and scared or all of the above.

I take a step closer to her, my towering height casting a shadow over her small figure compared to mine.

Her eyes flash a glimpse of fear. My eyes dart to her neck witnessing her pulse thumping against her flesh like the rhythm of her heart beat I wish to hear.

My fragile little doe.

Reaching my left hand out, Irena tries to step back but I'm quick to grab a fistful of her hair, a small whimper escapes her lips. Pulling her closer towards me but not to close where we touch. Leaning in, I take a whiff of her divine scent. Honey and vanilla.

Dear God, this woman smells mouthwatering. Literally.

Her eyes grow wide in fear, lips parted as her breath quickens.

"Why do you lie Irena?" I question softly. Staring into the depths of her soul.

She remains silent.

Why does she do that?

Is it her way of self defense, when she feels threatened, her body freezes and she becomes mute.

"Are you afraid of me?" I asked again, this time my voice was low. Annoyance spilling out into the crack of my bones.

My grip tightened, tugging her hair harder as her head was slightly jerked back, her neck fully exposed to me. "Are you afraid of me to the point where touching you makes you sick to the stomach."

"Are you afraid of me that being this close makes your breathing stop, your stomach twisting with the possibility for your lunch to resurface, your heart beating so fast it's crushing your chest. Your mouth instantly turning dry as it's difficult for you to swallow, palms sweating, body trembling..." I slowly drawl against her neck, my lips inches away from tasting her. "Is that how I make you feel little doe?"

Her snap of anger disappeared in a blink of an eye. I see fear harbored behind her large brown eyes. She doesn't want to be afraid of me but she can't contain her emotions.

She's so transparent and raw with her emotions. I fucking love it

Tugging her head further back I whisper. "Answer me."

Tears welled up in her eyes, she blinked then it slipped out of her eyes caressing down her cheek, a shock of heat licked my skin when my gaze silently followed the movement of her tears.

I felt the hairs of my neck lift away from my skin, darting my tongue out my subconscious takes over as I lick her tears away the taste of salt lingers on my tongue. Irena shuts her eyes , her body quivering in fear. The sight of her trembling sent a twisted apprehension sinking down to my bones.

"Y-You're sick." She managed to say through her uneven breaths.

I've been called worse my little doe.

A charged pulse ignites a fire beneath my palm. The air, volatile and tense, suspends time for a mere blink, allowing my body to ravenously absorb the feel of her where I've only permitted my eyes to touch. Letting her go she stumbles back, glaring at me whistle her arms are wrapped around herself as a way of shielding herself from me.

The fear in her eyes, the she's looking at me like I'm some sort of monster awakening from her nightmares as a child yet there's something else...

Irena shakes her head in disbelief, with one quick glance she scatters back into the room, my eyes following her every moment until she's no longer in the eyes view.

My breath stalls, every nerve in my body cored tight.

Irena.

Irena.

Irena.

Irena.

Irena.

Irena.

My patience with her is on thin ice. The destructive urge to ruin her innocent nature is growing stronger, deeper, hungrier.

I want to ruin her, bit by bit like a hungry dog chewing on his bone with no mercy until there is nothing left to save for later.

I want to destroy her.