Tears Of Betrayal (The Saints Series)

Coming to, it feels like I’ve been run over by a freight train. I let out a groan, and turning onto my side, the bed smells like a mixture of fresh laundry and Demitri. I push my face into the pillow and take a deep breath.

I don’t want to wake up.

Then the silence gets through to me. There’s no buzz of city life. Just absolute silence.

Maybe I finally died. A girl can hope.

Slowly my mind clears, and then I remember someone grabbing hold of me. I shoot up, my eyes flying open and darting over my surroundings.

My body jerks when I see Demitri sitting on a chair next to the bed, his eyes dark on me. He looks freaking angry.

For a moment, I can only stare at him, drinking in every inch of him.

“Ariana,” he growls, his features carved from granite.

“Uhm… hi.” I glance around the room again and recognize it. “We’re at the island?”

Slowly Demitri nods, and his voice is cold as ice as he says, “I kidnapped you. Again.”

“Oh.” My tongue darts out, and I wet my lips. “Why?”

Demitri leans forward, the movement predatory. “You didn’t take care of what belongs to me.”

“Huh?”

I push the covers back, but then he snaps, “Don’t fucking move. I swear I’ll tie you to the damn bed.”

My eyebrows shoot up. When I open my mouth, he shakes his head to silence me. “I’ve been watching you, so don’t even try to lie to me. Why the fuck did you leave?”

I open my mouth again, but then Demitri says, “Lie to me, and I promise, I will put you over my knee and spank the insanity out of you.”

My eyebrow pops up again.

“Why did you leave?” he demands.

“I… I… wasn’t –”

“Don’t dare say you weren’t sure of your feelings for me. I heard you say you love me. Try again. This time the truth.”

My shoulders slump, and I rub a hand over my eyes. I have no more strength to fight Demitri. I swallow hard, my mouth dry. “You almost got killed because you were distracted. If I weren’t there, you wouldn’t have gotten shot.”

Demitri slumps back in the chair, and placing his thumb beneath his chin, he presses his knuckles against his mouth.

He stares at me until I begin to fidget with the covers, and then he stares some more.

Finally, he nods. “I was distracted watching Yuri drown in his own blood, and I was worried about you and Alexei not getting along. But it didn’t happen because you were there. If anything, I’m alive right now because of you.”

I lower my eyes to the fabric I’m clutching in my hands. “We can’t be together. Not if it will cost your life.”

Silence stretches between us, then Demitri says, “All my life, I knew I’d die for Alexei, but there wasn’t anyone to live for. Until you.”

His words rip at my heart, and I squeeze my eyes shut. “I won’t be the reason you die.”

“Ariana.” He waits until I look at him. “Without you, everyone dies. I can’t do my job without you next to me.”

God.

“But…but,” I gasp, unable to think of something to say.

Demitri gets up and comes to sit on the bed. Placing a hand against my cheek, he leans in. “I made a mistake. It won’t happen again.”

“You can’t know that,” I cry.

“Trust me,” he says, leaning closer to me. “I know myself. It will never happen again.” He gives me a reassuring look. “Also, we should’ve worn bulletproof vests. It was just a stupid mistake on my part.”

I stare at him and then whisper, “Promise me you’ll always wear a bulletproof vest.”

“I promise.” He moves his hands, brushing his thumbs over the dark circles beneath my eyes. “How do you feel?”

Better now that you’re here.

“Hungry and dirty,” I answer, the corner of my mouth lifting.

“Shower while I fix you something to eat.”

We move off the bed, and then I think to ask, “Did you at least pack me a bag of clothes, or did you just fling me over your shoulder again?”

He lets out a dark-sounding chuckle. “Part of your punishment. I want you naked.”

My lips part, and I watch as he walks out of the room.

Punishment?

My stomach flutters at the thought, and then it hits that Demitri came back to me. He never gave up on us.

Even though we still have a lot to talk about, it feels as if my heart is beating for the first time in two weeks.

I walk to the bathroom, and turning on the faucets, I strip out of my leggings and shirt. I step under the spray and take my time washing my body and hair.

Demitri came for me. Once again, when I needed him the most.

I think back to our conversation and how he said he’s alive because of me, and it’s like a soothing balm to my bruised heart.

Stepping out of the shower, I dry my body and squeeze the excess water out of my hair. Grabbing Demitri’s toothbrush, I quickly brush my teeth, and then I walk to his closet and take one of his shirts from it. I pull the fabric over my head and then leave the room.

When I walk into the kitchen, there’s a plate with a slice of toast with cream cheese and a cup of coffee. Next to it is a note.

Eat and then go to your room.

Frowning, I glance over my shoulder, but there’s no sign of Demitri.

I take a couple of sips of the coffee, and then picking up the slice of toast, I take a bite as I walk to the entertainment room. I don’t find Demitri there or in the gym and finish my breakfast as I make my way back to the kitchen. I rinse the toast down with the rest of my coffee and wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I head up the stairs.

Maybe he’s in the security room?

I’m just about to pass the room I stayed in, but stop and open the door. Stepping inside, I see Demitri leaning against the wall.

“Close the door,” he murmurs as he pushes away from the wall.

I shut the door, and then Demitri locks it and pockets the key. “No more running.”

“Ah… we’re on an island,” I remind him. There’s nowhere for me to run to.

He leans into me, and taking hold of the shirt, he pulls the fabric over my head, then says, “I told you I want you naked.”

I begin to frown, then let out a squeak as Demitri yanks me up and throws me over his shoulder. He tosses me on the bed and then grabs hold of my wrists and forces my arms above my head.

“What the hell are you doing?” I sputter, more surprised than anything else, as he uses a belt to tie my hands to the wrought iron bed frame.

When he’s sure I can’t get my hands free, he moves down to straddle my hips, and placing his hands on either side of my head, he gives me a predatory look that makes my abdomen clench.

“Ready for your punishment?” he asks.

“Why am I being punished?”

He tilts his head. “You lied to me.”

I glare at him. “Seriously? So you’re going to leave me tied to the bed butt naked?”

Demitri shakes his head as he climbs off me, and then my eyes widen as he pulls his shirt over his head.

“You’re going to wish I left you tied to that bed.”

Meaning?

It can’t be bad if it involves us naked on the bed.

Right?

When he steps out of his cargo pants, my eyes greedily sweep over his muscled body. I take in the scars left by the bullets, and then Demitri moves to the foot of the bed.

I lift an eyebrow at him. “Not to rain on your parade, but this is the furthest thing from punishment.”

He lets out a dark chuckle, the corner of his mouth lifting, and then placing a knee on the bed, he grabs hold of my hips, and in one fluid motion, I’m turned onto my stomach.

Ah…

And then there’s a hard smack against my bottom, and I let out a startled shriek.

Holy shit, he’s going to spank me?

Demitri takes hold of my ankles and spreads my legs open, and then his palm meets the other cheek of my butt, leaving them both stinging.

I’m not sure how I feel about this.

Then he brushes a finger over my opening and lets out a low growl. “Wet already.”

I begin to glance over my shoulder when he spanks me again, and this time my abdomen clenches hard, and a moan slips over my lips.

My mind tells me I should be offended and demand he stops, but my body flushes with heat, and it leaves me a little confused.

Demitri leans over my back and presses a kiss to my shoulder, and then I feel his hand between my legs again as his finger rubs around my entrance. “You’re loving this punishment way too much, Malyshka.”

Malyshka.

God, I missed hearing him call me that.

I push my butt into the air, trying to get him to give me more, but instead, he pulls away from me.

He lets out a chuckle. “I’m not going to let you come.”

What?

“Not until we’ve talked about everything without you lying to me.”

I can work with that.

He places his hand on my left ass cheek and begins to rub my heated skin. “Tell me again why you left.”

I take a deep breath and rest my cheek on the pillow. “Because I distracted you, and you almost died.”

The sound of Demitri’s hand connecting with my butt is loud, and then it stings like hell, and it draws a cry from me. Just as anger explodes in my chest, he pushes a finger inside me, and the intensity of how good it feels douses my temper instantly.

Hello, whiplash, my old friend.

As Demitri fingers me, he leans over me again until his mouth is by my ear. “It wasn’t your fault.”

I turn my head more and meet his eyes. I don’t know what he sees on my face, but it makes him pull back, and then he spanks me again.

Desire spreads through my body like a destructive force, and my breath explodes over my lips.

“Say it,” he demands.

“What?” I gasp, my ass literally on fire.

“That it wasn’t your fault I got shot.” He’s back to massaging my tender skin, and it makes me feel emotional.

When I take too long to say the words, he spanks the other cheek damn hard, and I smother the cry against the pillow.

Tears sneak out of my eyes, and my emotions are all over the place when Demitri begins to rub my clit. My hips instantly buck against his hand, begging for more friction.

God, I’m insane. There’s no doubt anymore.

Pleasure begins to tighten my muscles, and I moan from how good it feels, and then he freaking stops.

“I swear, the second I’m back in Seattle, I’m freaking running,” I threaten him.

Demitri lets out a chuckle. “I’ve got news for you, Malyshka. You’re not going back to Seattle.”

“What?” I gasp.

He slaps my clit, and my brain short circuits.

Holy. Shit.

“Say it,” he demands.

“Ah… what was I supposed to say again?” My voice is breathless, my body trembling from the conflicting things he’s making me feel.

“It’s not your fault I got shot,” he reminds me as his finger dips inside me again.

Uhm.

I lick my lips and barely have enough brain activity to say, “It wasn’t my fault you got shot.”

Demitri pulls his finger out of me and then presses a kiss to my left butt cheek.

“Now,” he murmurs, his voice low and deep, “tell me how you feel about me.”

“Right now, I’m torn between angry and fucked up,” I mutter.

He spanks me again, and I grind my teeth to keep the cry back, then snap, “Scratch that. I’m going with anger.”

And then he freaking chuckles. “Now you know how I feel.”