Beauty in the Broken

I wait quietly, having expected the reaction. This is the reason why I sent everyone away. I can’t do this behind a closed door, not with Lina’s phobia, and no one but me will witness her breakdown. This is sacred. Private. Between her and me. The moment I break her is mine alone.

She holds the papers out to me, as if I don’t know what’s printed on them. Her hand is shaking so badly the sheets are fluttering. Her lips are trembling. She’s barely holding herself together. Naked, falling apart, she’s ravishing. The most beautiful living being I’ve seen.

“You deceived me.”

“I never lied to you.”

Her breath catches on a hitch. “You said you’d give me the evidence.”

“I said I’d give you the envelope. I never told you what was inside.”

She swats at the tears on her cheek. “You tricked me.”

“You didn’t ask what was in that envelope.”

She gnashes her teeth. “You bastard.”

“Are you angry about your lost freedom or that I fucked you?”

“Both!”

“Would you have been angry at Zane if it was his cock?”

“It wouldn’t have been the same.”

Tilting my head, I study her. She’s losing her composure with every passing second. “How’s that?”

“I would never have given it to him freely. I would’ve fought him with everything I’ve got.”

It doesn’t sound right, not according to what Zane said, but I’m taunting her, pushing her closer to the edge of her limits. “I thought you offered.”

“I snooped around in his bathroom. He caught me. He threatened to touch me. We fought, and it got physical. That’s what happened, not whatever you think.”

I still. I let her words sink deep into my heart where their meaning can damage me. Irrevocably. If it’s true, I failed her. I said I wouldn’t let anyone hurt her. If what she says is true, Zane betrayed me. If it’s true, Lina was bullied, right under my nose. The sleeping pill and the marks on her wrists, why would she lie about them? She has no reason for pinning the blame on Zane.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. I want to come apart with fury, but I keep it together. Only one of us can unravel. Slowly, as I let the calm seep in, doubt nestles in the seat of trust I keep for Zane. I can’t give her the benefit of the doubt. Not yet. Not with her track record. I can’t do it without proof. From the way her pretty features contort, she reads the truth on my face.

“Fuck you,” she snarls, tearing the papers into small pieces that flitter like confetti to the floor. “I don’t care, do you hear me?”

“That I don’t trust you or that you let me fuck you for nothing?”

She snaps. With a cry of rage, she flings herself at me, going into the fight with arms, fists, feet, and teeth. I’ve never seen a woman so feral. The fact that I easily catch her wrists and constrain her only infuriates her more. Twisting and kicking, she tries to inflict physical damage, but she only has her feet to use as weapons. She’s barefoot, and she’s a tiny thing. There’s not much she can use to her advantage. I could’ve stopped her as easily as I’m constraining her, but I let her tire herself, get it out of her system.

When her energy is spent, she sags in my hold. Her legs cave in. A big sob wracks her shoulders as she slides to the floor. I let go of her wrists to catch her in my arms. Cupping her face, I press her cheek to my chest. Warm tears soak my shirt. Quiet tears. Her full, meager weight rests against me. Folding an arm under her knees, I pick her up and carry her to our bed.

“The sheets,” she says through her tears as I lay her down.

“Fuck the sheets.”

I tear out of my clothes in record time. All the while, she cries. When I cover her body with mine, she doesn’t protest.

I frame her face between my palms and kiss the salty taste of her tears from her lips. “Let it all out, angel.”

“I hate you so much.”

I kiss her again. “I know.”

“I’ll never forgive you.”

“I’ll gladly carry your blame.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“You’re mine.” If there’s one thing I hoped to get across today, it’s that.

When I brush my lips over hers again and again, she doesn’t stop me. Neither does she resist me when I invade her mouth with my tongue. I always want to kiss her mouth the opposite of how I want to fuck it, but this time I can’t hold back. The strokes of my tongue are urgent. They mimic the movement of my hips as I choose a rhythm that will work for both of us and not just me this time. She moans into my mouth, almost making me lose it. Her back arches, pushing her breasts flat against my chest. I’m thankful for my foresight to have sent everyone away, because this is the moment I’ve been waiting for my whole delinquent life, ever since I saw her face. The moment is too big to have it crowded with others when the walls are thin. It’s my moment, mine as much as hers, even if she won’t admit it. I’ve waited six years to be inside her. I’ve had no other woman since. Fucking her in the study took off the edge. I’m going to make this round last.