Page 59 of Saint

The fire in her sapphire eyes has dimmed with her exhaustion, and she can barely keep them open. Her lashes flutter closed, and she sinks against me, giving into this like I knew she would.

Tears streak her cheeks as her fingers clench the fabric of my shirt.

Violet is beautiful when she’s broken.

Broken by me.

Her skin is streaked in cum and blood, and dull bruises are starting to form on her perfect breasts and around her wrists. A picture of her submission, painting a stunning portrait. I could spend all night making art of her delicate flesh.

“The tub.” I carry her into the bathroom. “Your muscles are tense. You need to relax them.”

She turns her head to glance at the steaming bathwater. “Really?”

I nod, walking over to set her down. She balances as I slowly lower her feet to the ground, clutching my chest like she trusts me more than the tile. It’s because she knows I’ll never let her down, no matter how much I hurt her.

Holding her hands, I help her climb into the water. And she sinks into it until the water settles over her shoulders. Small red ribbons float across the surface as it washes away what we’ve done.

I glance down at my own hands and arms. Covered in the remnants of her blood. There are gashes where her nails dug into my skin as she fought me, cutting up my forearms. I should probably rinse myself off as well, but I’m not ready to wash her off me yet.

I’d like to bottle the scent of her pleasure and sweat so I don’t have to smell anything else for the rest of my life. Maybe I’ll record her screams as a reminder of how perfect she sounds when she’s ripping open for me. The frequency still echoes in my ears. A symphony of beautyas my cock shoved through what she hadn’t given any other man.

Tonight, she gave herself to me fully. Even if that’s not what she intended. She might have been angry walking through these doors and planning to confront me with my secrets, but only because she knew what she really wanted.

Violet came here to piss me off—to draw Saint out—and my curious little kitten succeeded. Which left me with no other option but to remind her who she’s dealing with.

I don’t mind that she tempts Saint to come and play, so long as she understands now that she has, there’s no escape.

Violet’s black hair floats in the water around her. Her eyes are closed, and her head is tipped back, revealing the perfect column of her neck. Water splashes over the makeup she used to try and cover the fading bruises from her previous visit, and I’m tempted to reach in and rub it off completely so I can appreciate what’s left of my artwork.

I’m tempted to wrap my hands around her throat and repaint the necklace I gave her.

But she’s too calm. Too relaxed after what we’ve done. So instead, I watch her just as she is. Battling her acceptance of us.

“Why did you draw me a bath?” Violet asks.

She doesn’t open her eyes to look at me with her question, and I don’t need to see them to know why she’s asking. She wants to tell herself she was wrong about me,that I’m better than she’s given me credit for so far. But that would be a lie.

I’m everything she assumes—and worse.

“Why not?”

She shrugs. “It’s… nice. That’s all.”

Nice.

After I fucked her until she was screaming in pain.

She’ll hurt for a week because I didn’t go easy on her for her first time, but somewhere in her pretty, twisted mind, she wants to classify me asnice.

“Don’t do that, Violet.” Standing up, I walk over to the mirror and wipe the dew fogging it. “It’s just a bath. And if you don’t take care of yourself, it will take longer for you to recover.”

Staring at my reflection, I trace the scar that lines my cheek. The reminder of the limits on what I can be. Just because I’ll claim her, and just because I’ll keep her safe from the rest of the world, doesn’t make her safe from me.

“So that’s it then?” She tips her face to look at me, resting her arms on the sides of the tub. “This is just you keeping me in one piece so you can do it again later? I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

I turn to face her, gripping the counter behind me.

Her eyebrows pinch as she chews the inside of her cheek. And even if I don’t know what it’s like to seek comfort, I’m not blind. I know that’s what she’s searching for.

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