Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 93482 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93482 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
“Why should I?” she asked between gasps as I pushed her closer and closer to the edge.
“Because it’s the truth,” I said, before I dropped to my knees and sucked on her clit, making her scream her pleasure as I lapped it up.
When I got back to my feet, she was out of breath, her thighs still trembling as she leaned against the wrought iron gate, breath still rising and each pant cracking the now-cooled wax that covered her breasts.
“Admit it,” I said, grabbing her jaw and forcing her to face me. I kissed her hard, demanding she open for my kiss, and she did. She melted into it, needing to taste her own pleasure on my lips.
“Admit it,” I whispered, needing to hear her say it. Just once.
“I hate you,” she said, looking into my eyes.
“Stupid little angel, don’t you know?”
“Don’t I know what?” she asked as I untied the ropes from her arms and dragged her over to the small altar in the memorial. With one swipe of my arm, I sent candles and offerings flying to the ground.
I picked her up and laid her out on the small altar like a sacrifice. Unzipping my pants, I stood between her thighs, my thumb pressed on her clit as I lined my body up with hers.
“Lying to a priest is a sin.”
CHAPTER 36
ROSE
Ididn’t recognize the woman looking back at me in the mirror. I didn’t think I had ever really known her, but this was the first time I didn’t even recognize her. My hair was a mess. Wild rat’s nest curls everywhere.
I was standing completely naked, not worried about anybody walking into my room or hiding my body from my own eyes in some vain attempt at chastity because nice girls didn’t look at themselves like that. For the first time, I was really looking at myself.
Still, I just didn’t recognize the woman in front of me. I looked like a woman who was well loved, who had experienced the best the world offered and came back demanding more. My lips were redder than normal, kiss-bruised, and there were a few dark marks on my throat where Thomas kissed and sucked the delicate skin as he ravaged my body.
Even my breasts were still covered with the hard wax he had dripped on them. Seeing the pale waxy droplets dotting my skin, feeling them pull and tighten with every movement, made my core burn almost as much as seeing the fingerprint bruises on my thighs from where he held onto me while he fucked me on the altar.
He fucked me on an altar. Could there be anything in this world more blasphemous?
Was this who I really was? A woman who had fallen for the worst possible man imaginable, then allowed him to desecrate her body in a house of God?
Is that who I wanted to be with?
Just because I refused to tell Thomas that I loved him, refused to admit I was his, didn’t mean it wasn’t true. I didn’t know when it happened, but all the same, it happened.
I fell for the priest who forced me to do things I didn’t think I ever would, the man who showed me what it meant to be a woman. He demonstrated to me how my body could respond to the right person, how my body craved things that were so forbidden, so taboo, they were unmentionable.
It was more than that. He did more than just show me what I needed to feel true bliss; he freed me from the gilded shackles I had gotten so used to, I didn’t even realize I was wearing any.
A good girl would be disgusted by him. A good girl would have never fallen into his trap, let alone run into it willingly. If I were a good girl, I would tell people what I know about the things that he did. Not just the things to me, but I would tell people I knew he was part of my mother’s death. I would tell people he was there the night Raul died.
But I didn’t want to.
I should hate him for it.
A good girl would hate him, she would blame him and make sure everyone knew what he did. But I knew the truth. He did it all for me.
If someone wanted to look where I told them to—in his phone, through his records in his room—I was sure they would find everything they needed in order to put him away. Even with Lucian Manwarring paying for the finest lawyers in the world, I didn’t think even he could buy his way out of manslaughter charges.
My brother was the DA, for Christ’s sake. I could have just called him.
I looked back into the mirror, and I knew a good girl would turn him in. But the woman I saw in that mirror was not a good girl. She was a woman who had been fucked on an altar, whose breasts were covered in candle wax from a memorial candle, and who was intimately familiar with the feeling of one of those candles in her behind. Good girls would never know what that felt like. They would never even know to think it.