And that’s all either of us needed.
Bastian, however, was like a dog with a bone. Even though I knew he wanted me, he wanted this—he wanted the truth more.
I sighed, my entire body drooping. “I never thought my future was mine to decide,” I said. I couldn’t look at him. Not when I was feeling so raw and vulnerable. I wanted to curl into a ball and hide away.
“I never questioned what they told me. I did what they wanted me to—”
“Because you’ve been brainwashed,” Bastian interrupted. “Because you’ve been systematically programmed to believe every twisted, horrible thing that man preaches. And it’s all lies. Every single thing. He’s dangerous, Sara.”
I nodded, the tears sliding down my nose. “I know, Baz. I know.” It was all I could say. I couldn’t put into words everything else. If I started talking about my dismantled faith, I would completely fall apart.
And I needed to keep some tiny part of me unbroken.
He lifted my chin. The set of his mouth was resolute. But his eyes…dear God his eyes…
They were the light I was looking for.
“Save me,” I whispered, my breathing ragged. My words shredded and frayed.
Bastian kissed me. Softly. Slowly.
“I won’t save you, Sara.” I blinked in confusion. An ache thudding in my chest at his seeming harsh statement.
He kissed me again. Warm lips to my cold ones.
He wiped my tears away. One at a time. Gone. Forever.
“I won’t save you. But I’ll help you save yourself.”
He was giving me control.
He knew how much that would mean to me.
A girl who had never had control over anything.
I let out a choked sob and then his mouth was on mine. His arms around me.
It all fell into place. One ruined, discarded piece at a time.
He walked us to his bed. He pulled me down with him, his fingers tangled in my hair. His lips trailing down my neck, to the bare skin of my shoulder. We attempted to squeeze onto his small, single bed. We were a heap of limbs as we tried to get comfortable.
“I wish I had somewhere nicer to take you. You deserve so much more than a tiny, hard mattress in this depressing room. You deserve to be made love to in a palace. Or at least a really nice hotel room.” Bastian tried to lie beside me and almost fell to the floor. I held onto him until he regained his balance.
We sat up; it was easier than trying to lie down together. “I don’t need a palace or a hotel room. I just need to be with you,” I told him honestly.
He closed his eyes briefly, as if in pain. “You’re too good for this place, Sara.” He opened his eyes again, this time they were wet. Seeing his tears nearly undid me. “You’re too good forme,” he rasped.
I hated his self-deprecation. I hated that sad, sad look in his eyes.
“Don’t put me on a pedestal, Baz. It’s a long way to fall.” I pulled him towards me by his shirt, more aggressively than I had ever been before.
We were all panting breaths and shaky hands.
With clumsy fingers, I tried to unbutton his shirt. It took forever. I felt as though I were moving through quicksand. Bastian chuckled. “Let me do that.” His voice was deep and gruff. It made my insides flutter.
He quickly took off his shirt and I touched his skin with my fingertips. He shivered and I felt a sense of power at having that effect on him.
He was lovely. All smooth flesh and hard muscle. I pressed my palm over his heart. I could feel it beating wildly under my hand.
