Chapter 12
Saint
Angels fall - breaking benjamin
Age Twenty-Two
I’m as still as the night as I watch her through the window. Anyone spots me, they’ll call the fucking cops. Not that I’d find it in myself to care; my girl would bust me out. Then probably have my arse for stalking her.
Again, something I find myself not mustering a care in the world for. I like when she gets mad.
She’s got her earphones in, bobbing her head to the beat as she flicks through pages of her coursework. She’s been playing catch up when she can. Most of the time her mind’s consumed with dealing with the grief of losing her dad.
He’s been gone for almost three months, and I’m due to leave for England tomorrow. And speaking from experience, the best way to avoid grief is to keep the mind busy.
I’m about to give her a lasting memory that should tie over for my return.
Sliding the window open carefully, I keep my movements minimal, waiting for her reaction. I get about halfway inside before the pen she’s twiddling in her fingers comes to an abrupt halt. Her body stiffens, and those glacial-blue eyes drag up towards me.
I remain rooted in my spot, cladded in complete black. The cigarette in my hand burns an amber bulb one last time before I stub it on the roof, pinging it across the edge.
Indie slaps the textbook over, tugging the wires from her ears. “What are you doing here?” she whispers, but there’s a tug of her lips she’s fighting against.
Good.
I’ve caught her in one of her better moods.
Wouldn’t matter either way. I find a fierce enjoyment enticing a smile from her, knowing the rare ones these days belong to me.
“Do I need to book an appointment to see you, darling?” I ask, sliding inside. My sneakers thump against her hardwood floor, and she pales. She pads across the room, locking her bedroom door and switching off the ceiling light, leaving only her fairy lights glistening.
Perfect. I thrive in the darkness.
“My mom’s just down the hall,” she breathes, a little whimper freeing at the end as I cage her against the door, cocking my head as I examine her.
Her mom knows we’re together, but she’s supposed to be catching up on the studying she’s missing before heading back to university, and therefore on a no-boyfriend streak for a few days.
Ha.
I make those rules, and there’s no conditions of the sort in my book. “It’s not me that needs to worry about being quiet, Indie.”
A gasp brushes my neck as I scoop her in my arms, her bare legs wrapping around my waist on instinct. Pressing her against the door, I kiss her with an intensity that sends my head spinning.
Fuck, she’s like my own personal high.
I’ve never touched drugs, will never need to having her in my arms—she’s the purest substance I’ll ever get a hold of.
Shaking hands roam up my sweatshirt, wrapping around the back of my neck as I devour her. We haven’t had sex yet, didn’t want to rush her when she was grieving. We’ve done everything else, building up to the moment as I try to coax the confidence I know she has buried deep down.
She thought the sneaky text telling me she wanted to fuck when I was back wouldn’t have me running over here like I was trying to break a world record for a sprint.
Now I have that knowledge, paired with waiting for what could be weeks?
I might actually fucking die.
I pull away, moving to peppering kisses along her jaw, all the way down her throat and collarbone. Her scent infuses my psyche, and it sends my vision blurry.
I need my piece of her, and I need it now.
Walking us over to the bed, I lay her down on it, hovering over her as she stares up at me.
“I thought you’d already be gone?” she whispers, playing with the cords dangling from my hood.
“Got a few hours left. Thought I’d grant a wish early.” I trace every single detail of her majestic face, topping it up in my memory.
A breathless gasp comes from her, those big doe-like eyes snatching a part of me when they do.
Every time.
Soon she’ll have it all, and there’ll be nothing left of me to give.
I’m not even mad about it.
“But you would have been busy?”
“Never enough for you,” I answer, kissing her again, her jaw, her entire face until she lets out an innocent giggle that cracks something inside my chest.
Fuck, I love that sound.
I pull back from her, hovering as I admire her. I don’t deserve this girl, I really don’t. If she knew the things I’ve done, what I’ve still yet to do, she’d never look at me the same way again.
The greedy, self-centred asshole in me wants to hold on to us just the way we are.
I’m not ready for someone to yank the dark cloak shrouding us just yet.
I want to make sure I corrupt her before then, so that when it does, she might not flinch from my darkness.
My eyes flick to the door, then back at her. “Put your speakers on.”
Indie swallows, her throat constricting as she reaches over for her phone, tugging the remaining earphone out and syncing it with her speakers.
Angels Fall by Breaking Benjamin slinks through the room in a low hum, and it cocks a smirk across my face.
Fitting choice.
I drag the hoodie over my head with one hand, and she wriggles her thighs against mine, panting through a breath as she speaks, “Saint, I’m nervous.”
I lean down, a palm travelling from the apex of her thighs and under her T-shirt, finding her braless. Trailing kisses up her stomach, her muscles contract with each one, until she leans up, letting me drag the material off her.
“Why?” I ask, right before my mouth captures her hard nipple in between my lips, sucking and licking as she whimpers beneath me.
“You’re more…experienced than I am.” She says the last word through a moan when I bite her ever so gently, but her thighs clamp against my hips. I know she liked it.
I look up at her through hooded eyes. “I don’t care about that, baby.”
I couldn’t care if it was her first time, or if she was a fucking professional. Well…maybe the latter would send me batshit crazy with jealousy, and I’d need to hunt every fucker down, pollute her mind so that she only thought of me.
I lean up off the bed, watching her eyes widen on my dick bulging through my sweatpants as she bats her gaze from that to mine. When I pull the condom wrapper from my pocket, she squeaks, “Wait!”
Shit, did I push her too fast?
I go to stuff it back in my pocket, but she speaks again, throwing one arm over her chest, and the other over her eyes. “I don’t want to use one with you.”
Christ, that’s about to fucking end me. My dick twinges at the thought of feeling her.
All of her.
I lose my sweatpants, crawling back over her and settling between her thighs, my hands wrapping around where she’s hiding herself. She always does this.
I’ve no idea why, because she’s fucking perfect. “You’d need to get a plan B tomorrow, darling.”
We’re in our early twenties; she’s still got a year of university to go. As much as the thought of filling her with my cum rewires something in my brain, I don’t want to do that to either of us.
Especially her. She’s got so many plans.
Her eyes eventually flutter open, a blush creeping up her cheeks. “I have an IUD.”
“Since when?”
“Since the first time…y’know.”
My smirk grows, and I hook my thumbs underneath her panties along her hips, dragging them down her silk-like skin. “No, I don’t. Tell me?”
It earns me a swat against my bare chest. “Stop teasing, Saint, you do.”
I know exactly what she’s talking about. The last time I went down on her, conjuring as many orgasms out of her in the one moment, until she couldn’t speak a coherent sentence. She fisted my hair so hard, begging me please like an addict.
It took every steel ounce of self-control I had, because I wanted to take it slow with her, let everything be on her terms.
I press my lips against hers, hovering just enough that her tiny pants ghost along them. “I wanna hear you say it, darling.”
She drags in every molecule of air in the room, steeling her shoulders beneath me, and it fills me with pride when she answers, “When you…kissed me down there.”
“You mean when I ate your pussy and you came all over my tongue countless times?”
I glide my finger along her soaked slit, sliding one in with ease, and then another, causing her to moan my favourite words. “Oh my God.”
Her hands slap against my biceps, gripping me as the slow circles I draw on her clit with my thumb have her bucking. She’s drenched, just like I knew she’d be.
“Are you still as brave as when you sent the text?” I ask.
She’s always got more courage when she’s not with me, and as much as I want this moment, if she wants to wait, I will.
“Yes,” she whispers, holding my gaze this time.
Fisting my cock, I line it up with her entrance, feeling the heat as I nudge against her, my spine already tingling at the base.
I’m going to need to recite the fucking alphabet in three languages to stop me from coming inside her in ten seconds.
Glancing up at her, my hips tilt a little further, and she nods, letting me sink a little further into her. Each time I pause, she gives me another nod, until I sink the last remaining length inside her, gritting my teeth as I try to control my breathing. “Christ, you’re fucking tight, baby.”
My pulse is roaring in my ears. You’d think it was me who didn’t have the experience as I fight with my breathing, watching as she stares up at me, eyes fighting to stay open as I slowly move, letting her adjust.
The heat sheathing me in her is fucking intoxicating; I never want to leave it.
Leaning down on my elbows, I kiss her so she’s as breathless as I am, each thrust of my hips slow, and I whisper against her lips, “How do you like it?”
“What do you mean?”
Pressing a hard kiss against her lips, I look down at her. “Indie, don’t be shy. You never have to be in front of me.”
She always lives to please others, never asking for anything. I want her to own who she is, demand everything she’s owed.
I’ll give her it all, no matter the ask.