Page 53 of Fallen Saint

“You…you killed him without remorse,” I whisper, peering up at him through my lashes.

Saint swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the movement. “He deserved it. And that’s what I do.”

But I don’t believe that. The tattooed armband proves otherwise.

“Wh-where is his b…bo—” But I can’t finish the sentence.

“I took care of it,” he says, shaking his head. “He will never hurt you again.”

My heart fills with…relief, and Saint mistakes my silence as disgust.

“Are you angry with me?”

I blink once, completely confused. “What?Angry with you?”

He nods. “I’m sorry. I took the right away from you.Youshould have killed that bastard. It wasn’t my fight. It was yours.”

“Saint—”

But he doesn’t let me finish.

“You’ve known nothing but death since meeting me. You’ve seen me kill. I understand if you want—”

However, this time, I’m the one who cuts him off.

Standing on my tippy toes, I press my lips to his, savoring in his sweetness, his trademark scent. “The only thing I want…is you,” I whisper against his mouth, my breath hot against his. “Thank you. Thank you for doing what I could not.”

“You want me even after everything you’ve seen?” His surprise is clear.

“Yes.”

“Why?” He pulls away, running his fingers through my hair, familiarizing himself with the shorter cut.

“Do you want me?”

“Yes,” he replies without pause, which confirms what I’m about to say. “Always.”

“Well, how can you want me when I am so fucked up?” And I am. I know that now. My stepfather’s blood covers Saint, and all I can think about is pressing my naked body to his, desperate to wipe away the last trace of Kenny from this earth.

He doesn’t deny my claim, and for that, I’m glad. We’ve stripped back the smokescreen until all that remains are Saint and Willow. The way it should be. “Because…your demons dance with mine. They always have.”

And it’s that simple. What we always knew to be true.

I don’t know who lunges for who first, but it’s a flurry of lips, hands, and bodies as we tangle around one another, tearing at clothes that just get in the way. When I feel Saint’s flesh beneath my fingertips, a guttural whimper breaks free.

He is soft and hard all in the same breath, and I want more.

My nightgown is ripped from my body, and I’m left standing in my underwear. Saint is shirtless, but I need everything between us gone. With deft fingers, I unbuckle his belt while he kicks off his boots. When his zipper is unfastened, we both yank down his pants.

His cock springs to life between us, pressing me deliciously low.

Our lips are still locked in a frenzy, kissing madly without taking a breath. But who needs air when Saint is my life source. He walks me backward to the bed, tossing me onto it and falling with me. He breaks our kiss only to trail hot kisses down my arched neck as I open my legs.

He bites and suckles, and each time he does so, I want him all the more. My underwear are coated with my arousal as I have never been this roused before. He dips lowers, kissing between the valley of my breasts, before detouring to my left and tonguing my pearled nipple.

My back bows from the mattress as it feels so good.

He does the same to my right as he walks his hand between us. When he feels the outside of my underwear, he hisses with pleasure. I boldly place my hand over his, coaxing him to go further.

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