Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 106107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
“Get away from me,” I growl, but I’ve already pulled my cock out of my pants, making a tight fist. There is a deep itch inside me, painful and insidious, and I know she can make it go away.
She stops in the middle of the aisle and stares at me with her big violet eyes, which look nearly pink in this feverish light. With the flames blazing around her, casting flickering gold on her wet skin, she looks like angel escaping hell.
She needs to escape the hell I’m about to bring her.
“Larimar, please,” I say, but my words do not match my actions.
My cock juts out from my hips, pulsing slightly with each wild beat of my heart.
“Why did you leave?” she asks, slowly coming toward me. “I woke up, and you were gone.” She eyes the way I’m fisting my cock, pumping it. “Did I not give you enough pleasure?”
I let out a hoarse cry, wishing she wouldn’t say such a thing.
“I need you to…go,” I whisper.
“Why?” she asks, stopping at the foot of the steps. I’m up on the altar, looming over her like a deity, and I can’t stop myself as I reach out with my free hand and place it on top of her head. I shove her down to her knees.
“Worship me,” I tell her. “Suck me.”
She blinks in surprise, probably because earlier, I had made her take my thumb in her mouth, telling her to stay clear of my dick. But I don’t feel in control of my words anymore.
“I said do it,” I snarl.
Apprehension falls on her face, but she reaches for me, wrapping her hands around my length. I want to hate myself for losing control, for letting the monster speak, but the sight of her on her knees, praying at the altar of my cock, is deliciously sinful.
I push inside her plush lips, and she starts sucking me, working me over with hot passes of her tongue, becoming more ravenous as she goes. There’s a part of me that worries she might get too carried away, that the Syren part of her might come out, and I fear the beast will like that.
But then, when I feel my balls pull tight, my hands yanking roughly at her hair, enough to cause her to cry out in pain, I know I need my seed inside her.
I yank her head up by the roots, her teeth grazing my ridge as she goes, and then throw her backward onto the aisle.
She lands with a thump, a wheezing breath knocked out of her, and tries to get to her feet, but I move fast. I push her back down, and she yelps, pinning her hands back over her head. I notice she removed the rosary, and that does something to me, like the last bastion of grace and control I had was removed along with it. It’s no longer there to remind me of salvation. The absence of it is a marker of my downfall.
“Priest,” she says, her eyes a mix of fear and desire, but I care less about how she feels, and that’s how I know the beast is winning.
“You should have listened to me,” I rasp.
Then, I reach down and take a rough hold of her thighs, spreading them before I mount her, no hesitation except for the voice inside me that screams for her to run, to leave, to escape.
But that voice won’t come out. Is this punishment for taking away hers, for making her words always be a whisper, for keeping that chain in her mouth for longer than I should have?
Is God smiting me right now for my past wrongs?
Or am I only doing it to myself?
I am doing it, a voice rattles from deep inside, one that sounds like Kaleid. That sounds like blood. That sounds like the Devil himself.
This is all for me. Fuck her, feast on her.
“No!” I cry out, and Larimar stares up at me with wide eyes a second before I spear my cock inside her. I watch as her mouth opens in a silent cry, and I grunt, slamming my hips harder.
I bring my mouth to her throat, and I bite, timing it with a punishing thrust of my cock, drinking as much of her as I can. The monster wants me to fuck and wants me to feast, and if I give it that and just that, perhaps it will leave both of us alone.
But I know the wish is fruitless, like an unheard prayer.
I saw my dick in and out of her, viciously, violently, pinning her down so hard, I fear she might become one with the church floor.
“Priest,” she says through a breathless gasp, running her hands down my back. I pull my head back, wanting her to soothe me, needing her to rein me in.