Saint

He kisses me, and our tongues clash. Taking my wrists into his hands, he pins them above my head and pulls my body taut, and I can’t break his hold no matter how hard I try. He’s in complete control, and a part of me thinks I should protest, but another part of me relishes how he handles me.

Just the thought of being at his mercy makes me shudder and gush with want.

Fuck, I’m almost there…

He makes me come twice before he finishes, then he rolls off me and sprawls across the mattress. I move to get up, needing to pee, but he grabs my arm and pulls me toward him.

“Not yet,” he mutters, tucking my head against his chest.

I freeze, stu

Dear baby Jesus, what next?

I loathe just how good it feels to be curled against him. He’s warm and firm, and I let my arm snake across his stomach to hold him a little tighter.

“Tell me something about yourself,” he suddenly says.

Furrowing my brow, I glance up at him. He’s staring down at me, his gaze weirdly intense.

“What?” I ask.

“Fair’s fair,” he insists. “I told you real shit last night. Now it’s your turn.”

“I-I don’t know…” What do I even tell him? I’m not real with anyone around here. Even Loni doesn’t know my deepest, darkest secrets because I keep them locked away where no one can ever find them.

I just need to give him something simple to reward him for being so willing to let me have a peek into his actual self last night.

“I like to cook.”

He frowns. “Not good enough.”

“What do you mean that’s not good enough?” I protest. “You didn’t exactly get super deep with me last night?”

He rolls me over onto my back and pins my arms above my head, just like when we were having sex.

“I hate my father,” he says, shocking me. “Always have. He’s a dick who wants me to be just like him, but I don’t want anything to do with what he represents. There’s nothing good in him. Just manipulation and darkness and I hate him for it.”

I stare up at him in total disbelief. “That … that was pretty deep.”

He hollows in his cheeks, then releases them. “Now you, and don’t try to get away with the surface-level shallow bullshit. I want a piece of your soul, Ellis. Give it to me.”

I’m terrified because it feels like he already has so much of my soul in his tight grip. I know he won’t let me go until I give him what he wants though, and what’s truly surprising is how much I want to give in and tell him … everything. It’s impossible, but the urge is there. He’s a terrible person, and if I unburdened myself to him, he might not judge me as harshly as everyone else.

Still, I’m hesitant. I’ve spent so much of my time at Angelview making sure no one knows anything significant about me, it feels somehow wrong and u

His eyes drop to my chest, and I can tell he’s staring at my scars again. He stares at them a lot, and I know he’s curious as to how I got them. He’s tried to ask a few times, but I always shut him down.

He turns his gaze back up to meet mine. “Come on, Ellis. Don’t be a coward.”

My nostrils flare, and I decide I can give him a crumb, nothing more.

Tilting my head back, I look past him to the ceiling. The words don’t come easily, but when they at last break free, they flow quickly like blood from a vein.

“Something real about me is that I’m not a good person, despite what everyone thinks. I hurt one of the only people who ever gave a fuck about me.” I think of James, of fire and blood, and I tremble all over.

“Hurt them how?”

Not just hurt. Killed.

I shake my head. I can’t go there. Not even for him.

“It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that I did it.”

For a moment, I think he might press for more details. At length, however, he gives me a curt nod.

“That’s real enough for me, I guess.”

He releases my hands and moves away from me, but not to leave like I expect. Instead, he stretches out next to me, wraps his arm around my waist, and pulls me back to his chest, as if he knows how much I need someone to hold me in that exact moment.