He also wanted her to beg him for more, to take what she could from him, what he could offer her, even if it wasn’t much. That he couldn’t give her what she needed, what she deserved. He wanted her to demand they stop, to see the man that he really was and realize she was better off walking away. It’d been wrong the first time he’d kissed her, then the second and every time after that. Sweeping through her mouth, his tongue swirled around hers, massaging and sucking, tasting a delicacy he knew he didn’t deserve. Grappling for the last remaining threads of his sanity, of his humanity … of his soul.

But it was actually him who was holding on to her. It was like she was holding on for dear life. She groaned and gripped his T-shirt tight, his dog tags too.

He released her shoulders, wrapping his arms around her waist and tugged her into his body. She blinked damp, spiked lashes at him, looking through him, seeing all of him.Īs she went to speak, he crushed his mouth to hers, smothering her words. What he had to give her, what he had in his heart just wasn’t enough. An apology would be hollow and lackluster.

What stared back at him fucking killed him.īut he didn’t know what to say. In a couple of long strides, he ate up the distance between them, grabbing her by the shoulders and bending his knees until they were eye to eye. Had I known it would, I wouldn’t have-” She turned her head and wiped beneath her eyes. Would make it difficult for you to be around me, to talk to me. I didn’t think that what we did last night would make it difficult for you to look at me the next day. I wanted to replace the memories of last night with something better, with something good.

Room Thirty by Mae Harden