Page 125 of Broken Saint

She’s right.

I have caused her more pain than I ever intended.

I was meant to be protecting her from the ugliness I was hiding inside, pushing her away to save her from the darkness. But it was pointless.

Whether or not she discovered the truth, I broke her heart regardless.

And I will forever regret it.

She stares at me with tear-filled eyes, and for the first time, I know she’s looking at the real me.

She’s experiencing every tarnished and broken part of me.

It makes my heart race and my skin prickle uncomfortably.

But as much as I hate it, I also love it.

No.

I love so much more than just this moment of intimacy between us.

Our only connection might be her hand on my jaw, but I feel closer to her than I ever have.

It’s overwhelming and exhilarating all at the same time.

My blood burns with need; my temperature soaring.

I need her so desperately that the rest of the world—our surroundings—fall away.

Reaching out, I wrap my hand around the back of her neck and close the space between us.

My heart aches but in the best kind of way as her floral scent floods my nose.

She’s everything.

She always has been.

Dipping my head, I brush my lips against hers.

It’s nothing like the kind of kiss I really want to dive into with her, but there’s still a little voice in the back of my head that’s screaming at me that she won’t want me any longer.

She knows my truth now.

Why would she want me when I’m so broken?

Such a liability.

But then she presses her lips harder against mine, kissing me back.

The relief I feel in that moment is beyond anything I’ve ever experienced before.

Before I can overthink it, I open my mouth and push my tongue past her lips.

I need her.

I need her so fucking badly.

My grip on her tightens as she follows my lead, her tongue stroking against mine and sending a bolt of pure lust straight to my dick.