Page 192 of Only for Him
He trails off, clearly unable to picture what fate I might have met.
“You would never have been there if it weren’t for me. I’ve dragged you into my world, twisted and broken, and it might have killed you.”
“I’m not here because you forced me, Roman,” I interrupt, my voice stronger than I feel. “I chose this. I’m here because I choseyou.”
I lean closer, until the heat of his breath mixes with mine. His eyes widen, catching the dim light in a way that makes my heart seize.
“I could keep pretending I don’t feel this,” I say. “But I don’t want to. I don’t fucking want to pretend anymore, Roman. I pretended all the time before I met you. It felt good when I stopped having to. You did that for me. And I?—”
But Roman cuts me off.
“I love you, little viper.”
My heart stammers, but I don’t break eye contact. I want to drown in the deep end of whatever this is and not come up for air.
“You’re the only thing that makes me want to be better,” he says. “And the only thing that makes me worse. I don’t know how to protect you without breaking things. Without breaking myself. But I’ll do it. I’d bury myself alive if it kept you safe. I’ll burn the world down before I let it touch you.”
The words linger like smoke, thick and dangerous and holy. My heart stammers against my ribs, trying to climb out of my chest.
I want to stop him so I can remember every second of this moment and every word of his confession.
He loves me.
This brutal monster of a man loves me.
But he just keeps going, because of course he does. Because he only stops whenhewants to.
“And I need you to love me back,” he says. “I love you so much it terrifies me. It makes me want to chain you up just so you can’t leave. So much I think if you ever did, I’d have to kill you just to keep you. That’s what you’ve done to me.”
“I do love you,” I whisper, voice trembling like it’s being pulled from the deepest part of me. “You told me, when this started, to find you. Well, I did. And now I can’t let you go. You’re in my bones now. You made me real.”
His lips part. For a second, he looks wrecked—like love might be the most dangerous thing either of us has faced.
“But I’m scared,” I say, chewing my lip. “What if the only thing we had was the man who took so much from us? What if you don’t want me anymore when I’m happier?”
“Being happy won’t change who you are,” he says with a smirk. “You didn’t flinch or cry when we made those men scream. Youlikedit. You needed it. Just like you need me. And Iwantyou to be happy. The less pain you feel, the less pain Ifeel.”
I understand that perfectly well. But Roman’s not done.
“I’m scared of the same thing. I gave you the only thing you ever really wanted. Now what? What is left for me to give you?”
But I don’t need him to give me anything. Love like this is something you don’t come back from, even when there’s nothing left.
“I love you,” he says again, softer this time. “But I don’t want?—”
“What about what I want?” I say, feeling utterly flayed open. “I don’t want perfect or soft or cookie-cutter. Don’t pretend like you don’t know that.”
Roman’s hands come to my waist, hungry with intent. I reach for him, fingers brushing his jaw, his cheekbone, his neck. He’s burning beneath my touch.
“Giselle…” he murmurs, voice thinned out with emotion. He grabs my wrist, his wounds not holding him back from squeezing so hard it’ll bruise. “You need to understand, once I take you apart, there’s no putting you back together. You willbelongto me, Giselle.”
“You think I don’t know that by now?” I manage, breathless and trembling. “I’ve been yours for so long that I wouldn’t know what to do with myself without you.”
I press my lips to his, every ounce of longing pouring into that single touch. It’s tentative at first, testing the fault lines of what we’ve become to each other
But then the dam breaks.
The kiss deepens, fingers tangling in hair, tongues sliding, trading breath between our mouths as my body comes alive. Everything else dissolves. The hospital, the future, the fear. There’s only this: his body against mine, the sound of our breathing, the heat that floods between us like a fever.
