Chapter 282: I Live For You
Roman
It felt like time had folded in on itself. We were just… there. Standing
in the bathroom, steam drifting around us. She was close enough that
I could see every tiny shift in her expression–the softness in her
eyes, the quiet awareness, the warmth that never seemed to fade
when she looked at me.
I could have stood there forever.
And somehow, the strangest thought rose to the surface before I
could stop it. And I ended up blurting out what was on my mind.
“I wish you’d met my mom.” The words slipped out raw and
unfiltered as I lifted my hand and cupped her cheek.
For a heartbeat, she looked surprised. Then she leaned into my palm
like the touch was something she’d been waiting for.
“Me too,” she whispered.
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My thumb brushed beneath her eye, tracing warmth instead of tears
this time.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Savannah,” I said
quietly. “I’ll never get tired of saying that.”
Her smile came slowly–soft, almost shy. It transformed her entire
face. “I didn’t used to hear that a lot,” she admitted, gaze dropping
for a moment. “Not like this. I’m… still getting used to it.”
She glanced up again, something vulnerable flickering there. “But it
makes me feel good. I love hearing you say it.”
My expression hardened without meaning to. “Then everyone else
was blind.”
She hesitated.
“The only one who used to say I was pretty…” Her voice thinned
slightly. “Was Kingston.”
The name struck like a spark to dry fuel.
Anger surged through me instantly. Sharp, violent and uncontrollable
anger. Even dead, he managed to provoke rage so intense it tasted
metallic at the back of my throat.
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That monster had looked at her and seen possession. Violation.
Cruelty disguised as attention.
My jaw clenched. “That bastard,” I muttered.
Before the anger could build further, she moved. Her arms slid around
my neck, drawing me down into a gentle kiss. It wasn’t desperate. It
wasn’t heated.
It was slow and grounding.
When she pulled back, she smiled brightly. “He can’t touch me
anymore,” she said softly. “Not when you’re here.”
The tension in my chest loosened just slightly.
“You’re right,” I murmured. “Nothing gets near you again.”
She studied me for a moment then a small laugh escaped her. “I love
you, Roman.”
The words landed somewhere deep and permanent.
I didn’t hesitate. “I live for you.”
Something shifted in her eyes–warmth turning to fire. Her lips found
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mine again, but this time the kiss carried weight. Relief. Claim. Desire
sharpened by everything we had almost lost.
I held her closer, one hand settling at her waist, the other still
cradling her face as the world outside us disappeared completely.
She pulled back only long enough to lift her blouse over her head.
The motion was unhurried.
My breath stalled.
She met my gaze with playful steadiness as she stepped out of the
rest of her clothes, piece by piece, never once breaking eye contact.
“Change of mind?” I asked, voice lower than before.
She shook her head, lips curving faintly. “No,” she murmured. “But we
can improvise.”
My attention remained locked on her, the sight of her naked body stealing every coherent thought I had left.
“Improvise,” I repeated quietly. “I’m listening.”
She stepped closer until there was barely space between us. “You’re
supposed to be healing,” she said gently.
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Her fingers brushed along my chest, slow and deliberate, as though reminding both of us of restraint that neither of us truly wanted.
Then she rose on her toes and pressed a kiss to my lips. Another followed at my jaw. Then my neck.
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