Mr. Sin: Book One of the Sin Series
Mr. Sin: Chapter 37

I’m sitting on my couch, talking through the details of my intruder for about the fourth time, when it happens.

All was quiet, and then it wasn’t. The sudden shouting outside my door has me jumping off my seat. The pair of detectives I’d been talking to rush past me to the door. They’d told me there was another officer out in the hallway and it sounds like he’s arguing with someone. Or multiple someone’s.

“Miss, stay back while we handle this.” One of the detectives says before reaching for the door handle.

Not needing to be told twice, I back myself into the far corner.

My heart is racing. How can I be so afraid, in my own home, surrounded by police? I clutch my hands together and press them against my trembling lips. I know I’m being a chicken. I know I’m safe now. But… I close my eyes as I hear my front door open.

It can’t be the same guy. The officer in the hallway wouldn’t be arguing with him, he’d arrest him. Unless I didn’t describe him well? Or what if he had an accomplice that I didn’t see?

“Where is she!?” Vincent’s booming voice has my eyes flying open.

The detectives are trying to hold him back as he pushes through the doorway. He looks furious. And terrified.

“Vincent.” I can barely make out my own voice, but he hears me.

His gaze whips to mine and the emotion that sweeps through me is nearly enough to have me sliding to the floor.

His features soften. “Sasha. Sweetheart.”

The cops seem to realize that Vincent isn’t a danger to me, and they let him go. The second he’s free, he strides towards me. I want to go to him, but I can’t seem to move from my spot in the corner.

“Baby, are you alright?” His tone is gentle.

Am I? I’m not sure, but I nod anyway.

And then he’s there. Pulling me into a hug that has me breaking all over again. With one hand on the back of my head, he cradles me against his body as I shake through hiccupping sobs.

“Shh. You’re okay.” He repeats that over and over, lips pressed into my hair.

His touch and smell and heat is the comfort I didn’t know I needed.

He doesn’t let me go. He just lets me cry.

I don’t know how long we stay like this. But the longer I lean on him, the more I start to worry about what will happen when he steps away. Like really steps away. It might be today. Or tomorrow. Or next month. But I know it will happen. Because somehow Vincent has become my rock. My touchstone. My center. But I’m not that for him. So eventually he’ll step away, and when he does, it will break me. It will break me more than I know how to handle.

My eyes squeeze shut even harder. I shouldn’t be thinking about this right now. I’m already scared and overwhelmed. But it’s that surge of emotion that finally has me opening my eyes to what I need to do. Until Vincent decides what he wants from us, I need to distance myself.

Stepping back, I put the space I need between us.

“I’m sorry. I’m okay.” I use my palm to wipe at my cheeks.

Vincent grips my chin and tips my head up. “Don’t be sorry.” His other hand brushes back a lock of hair that fell across my face. “Are you hurt?”

I shake my head. “No. I’m fine. Really.”

He watches me, as if he can sense the lie. Finally, he nods his head before pressing a kiss to my lips. “I need to talk to the officers.”

Watching Vincent walk back across the room, I see that there are even more people in my apartment now. The same two detectives as before, plus a third officer. Probably the hallway guy. I recognize the hulk of a man known as Angelo and then two more men who look like they live off protein shakes and testosterone. I don’t think I’ve seen them before, but I’d bet that they’re part of the Mazzanti security team. What they’re doing here, I have no idea. I don’t even know how Vincent found out about my break-in.

Angelo must have smoothed things over while I was crying into Vincent’s tailored shirt, because all the cops seem very calm, openly talking to Vincent.

I step closer so I can listen to what Vincent is saying.

“It’s got to be Randal Smith…”

Randal? My brain takes a beat to place the name before it all comes crashing down around me. That was Randal? As in Annie’s attempted kidnapper. Brother to the dead Renee. Randal.

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Vincent is still talking to the police. “I’ll have Angelo send over our file and connect you with the detectives that worked with us before. I have a restraining order on him regarding myself, my daughter, and any of my properties. I’ll be adding Sasha to that list until this is resolved.” Vincent is slowly losing his composure as he continues talking. The rage he’s been suppressing is taking over. “I don’t know how the fuck he found out about my connection to Sasha, but he must be close. Must’ve been tailing me. That’s the only way.”

A shiver runs down my spine. That creepy feeling I kept getting on the street… Someone was watching me.

Vincent turns his ire onto the two security guys I don’t know. “This will not fucking happen again. Do you understand me? This piece of shit got into her apartment! He found her and nearly fucking had her! You two will be trading off 12-hour shifts. I don’t want Sasha to go anywhere alone. You’ll stick to her like fucking glue.”

Wait, what? I can’t have bodyguards.

I step closer. “Um, what?”

Vincent ignores me. “I want a car parked outside at all times. Here. The office. Wherever. No more walking. Angelo, clear it with the building. If they give you any shit, I’ll just buy the goddamn building.”

“No, I don’t need…” I try to break into the conversation, but no one hears me.

My fear and shock start to morph into anger. I relish it. Vincent always thinks he can just do whatever he wants. That he can bulldoze his way into my life and toss out demands as he sees fit.

“Actually, fuck the 12-hour shifts.” Vincent turns to the bigger of the two goons. “Eric, I want you with her full-time until Randal is dealt with. Square your shit away because starting tomorrow morning you’re not letting her out of your sight. You’ll go with her to all her meetings, lunches, whatever. I don’t fucking care what it is, you go with. And get her moved to a new office, up on my floor. They’re bigger so you can fit in there with her. and you’ll be closer to me and Angelo.”

“No!” I shout the word, fed up with them pretending like I’m not here. Like this isn’t my life they’re talking about.

Vincent slowly turns to face me. “No?” His ire filling the air between us.  

I swallow. “I can’t have a freaking bodyguard.”

“Why the hell not?” He asks, stepping closer.

“Because.” At my lame response he cocks an eyebrow. That does it. I snap. All the insecurity, all the uncertainty comes pouring out. “I can’t have a bodyguard because I have no way to explain it. What am I supposed to say to my coworkers to explain this giant scary man following me around everywhere? How am I supposed to explain that? I tell Cheryl… what? That I got involved with you and now I’m in danger? Tell her that Vincent Mazzanti is providing me with personal security? I can’t explain that. It’s not like we’re even dating. Are we? I’m not actually your girlfriend. I’m not your anything. And I can’t even tell them that we’re just fucking because you’re a client! Or have you forgotten that little detail? If I tell anybody about this I’ll lose my job. And my job is all I have!”

Vincent’s eyes never leave mine and when I finish, I watch his jaw clench as he takes a step towards me. The fire rolling off him has me stepping back.

His voice is low and lethal. “You’re right. I don’t know what the hell we are. I don’t know what to call this. But you? You’re mine. You hear that, sweetheart? You’re fucking mine. And I protect what’s mine. So, find a way to deal with it.”

The way he says mine sends a chill down my spine. And an entirely inappropriate wave of lust tightens my core.

Vincent takes one more step towards me and I step back.

Without breaking eye contact with me he shouts a command to the room. “Get out.”

I don’t dare look away. Like prey watching a predator, I can’t risk losing sight of him. But I hear the exodus.

My breath is coming quicker. I’m not sure where this is going, but we’re almost there.

When the door shuts and the apartment goes quiet, Vincent takes another stalking step towards me.

His voice is low. Dangerously soft. “Don’t ask me to step back. Or step away. Or to explain what the fuck I’m feeling because none of that will happen. But for once, in your stubborn life, just do what I fucking say.”

I take one more step back, bumping into the dining table.

He’s so close to the edge. Teetering. And I want to see him lose control.

Keeping eye contact, I tip my head up in challenge. “Make me.”

His eyes flash with challenge. Then all at once, he detonates.

Vincent moves so quickly; I barely register that he’s closed the distance between us. A growl comes from deep in his chest. My natural instincts cause my hands to fly up. As if that would stop him now. It doesn’t.

With a rough tug on my arm, Vincent spins me around. His grip at the base of my neck shoves me down until I’m bent over my dining room table. My hands land on loose puzzle pieces and slide across the surface. With a large palm between my shoulder blades, Vincent applies pressure until my chest is pressed against the wooden surface.

A smack sounds from behind me, immediately followed by a sharp sting on my butt cheek. I cry out. More from shock than from pain.

Vincent presses himself against my ass and I can feel his cock hardening. When he spanks me again, my thighs clench. I swallow a groan. I’m not supposed to like this.

His breath on the back of my neck distracts me from the burn still warming my behind.

Vincent’s voice comes out as a rumble. “You’re going to do what I tell you to do, sweetheart. Or so help me god, I will smack your ass red until you learn to listen.”

Keeping his hand on my back, holding me still, he reaches down with the other and yanks down on my leggings. I’m still dressed in my yoga clothes, and my pants get caught just below my hips. I’m waiting to feel him reach between my legs, so I yelp when his palm slaps against my now bare skin.

I don’t have time to think about my reaction to being spanked, because I’m pulled under a new wave of sensation when one of Vincent’s long fingers slides straight into my pussy. I’m so turned on, so wet, that there’s no resistance.

“Fuck.” Vincent groans. “You’re fucking soaked.”

His finger slides out and I let out a sound that can only be described as a whine.

When I hear the sound of a zipper, my whine turns into a plea.

I try to lean back into him, but his hand on my back just presses me harder into the table.

I feel the tip of his cock to rub against my entrance. “Vincent.” I whisper his name.

“Say you’re mine.” He barks.

“Please.” I moan in response.

He slaps my ass again over my disobedience. The tingling is almost too much to handle.

“Say you’re mine!”

“I’m yo…”

My declaration gets cut off as he thrusts into me. His full length filling me in one quick motion. We both shout out at the intensity. My pussy clenching around him so hard I feel like I might come any second.

“Say it.” His voice is strained but he doesn’t wait before he starts pounding into me.

“I’m yours.” I pant. “I’m yours, Vincent. All… yours.”

His hand on my back slips around to my throat. With just the right amount of pressure, he pulls me to standing. His hips never stop their unforgiving pace. The sound of skin on skin. The feel of his hips striking my ass with each thrust. The hard length of him pulling nearly all the way out each time. It’s too much. My vision is hazy. My pleasure reaches an all-time high that I’m almost afraid to fall from.

Vincent’s free hand drags around my side and down my belly to find my clit. Circling it. But not touching me where I need him.

“Tell me you understand. Tell me you’ll do what I say. Tell me and I’ll let you come.”

Holy. Shit.

My knees start shaking. This Vincent is the Devil I’ve always imagined him to be. And I fucking love it.

Arching into him, I admit the truth. “I’d do anything for you.”

“That’s right, Sweetheart. Now let me feel you come on my bare cock.”

Vincent’s teeth bite down on my neck the moment his fingers pinch my clit. I explode. The admission that he’s not using a condom somehow makes me come even harder.

With my body shaking, Vincent’s hand leaves my throat and his arm circles around my chest. Holding me up as he slams into me once more. The groan that leaves him vibrates through my body, stretching out the orgasm that’s still rolling through me.

Holding me in place, we somehow stay standing. Vincent wrapped around me, still inside me. His release running down my thighs.

“You’re staying with me tonight.” Vincent says with his mouth against my neck. “You’re getting a bodyguard.”

With a swallow to settle my pulse, I whisper, “Okay.”

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