Page 92 of Beneath His Robes

“You shouldn’t have taken off my cage if you didn’t want a beast to emerge from it,” I said in a soft low growl.

I didn’t recognize my own voice. The echoed tone rebounding back to me was so foreign it made me blink. Ronan swallowed and looked up at me as if he, too, was unsure who had spoken.

“All right, Daddy. Give me what you got then,” he said, and whatever had possessed me responded.

His body was thrown into the shower floor, laying so perfectly on his back. All that dark hair fell into his face, highlighting his wide, waiting eyes. I crouched on top of him, using a steady hand to take off my rosary and wrap his wrists tightly in the beads.

“What—”

Not giving him a chance to break the spell of this moment with words, I threw his hands above his head and lowered myself back into his mouth.

“For a bible boy, you certainly know how to fucking destroy someone’s throat like a demon,” he said, whimpering between bouts of thrusts.

I didn’t know how to respond to that. I wasn’t always innocent. Hell, more of my life was spent repenting for how wild I truly was. Ronan didn’t know my past, only the sweet, caring boy I had been. The last time he saw me was at sixteen years old.

What would he have thought about my life?

I was a drug-addicted, drunk, sex addict. The reason I reacted so strongly to the club when I saw him grinding so beautifully on the pole was not because I judged him…it was because I felt like my own life flashed before my eyes. We lived different lives, but even then, they were so parallel to one another.

“I’ll show you how to keep your fucking mouth shut, Sinner,” I growled.

He moaned on my cock, and the vibration made me tighten. Every painstakingly low rumble in his throat made me that much closer to exploding in his mouth.

I wouldn’t make him see God. I would show him the devil. I knew this would make me feel guilty later, but right now, I couldn’t focus on anything but the way he whimpered beneath me.

My rosary shined on his tanned skin, the cross fell into his palm, and I fucked him harder. It was like I was trying to free myself from my shackles by breaking him. The one man I had no business being so rough with. He endured trauma, and I was demanding everything he could give to me and more.

He looked like a beautiful mess.

Heaven…

My Heaven.

The bulge in his throat grew, and I pulled back, slipping nearly out of his swollen lips. He was beautiful. His gray eyes shone with amusement and playful intent. He was hard as stone underneath the towel. Without thinking of anything else, I got off of his body and ripped the towel off his body, walking up to place it under his head.

“Get up,” I said, knowing my smile was tugging at my lips. “You have some sins to confess.”

His eyes flashed, and his mouth fell open as he searched my eyes.

“Well, Father, I am a little…tied up at the moment. Mind lending a hand?”

The rumble in my throat could have been considered a demonic laugh, but I was more focused on the rosary beads he meant. I was staring at his delicious, straightened, dancing cock, jutting out from his hips. He followed my gaze, and his lids lowered.

“What do you intend to do to me now? Edge me to an inch of my life?” Ronan’s words were laced with sarcasm and humor, but there was a genuine interest in my answer hidden beneath the playful exterior.

“You’ve been such a naughty boy.” I teased, getting onto my knees and lying down on my stomach. His cock was right at my face, and I gripped his length in my hand. “Let me hear you repent.”

“You have got to be—” he laughed, and I squeezed his cock cutting off his words.

“Uh, uh. Let me hear them, Ronan Adonis Saint Clare. Can you get through all of the hail Mary’s before you come for me?”

He swallowed, and his eyes squinted in challenge. I knew he wasn’t religious, but he knew them all like everyone in our small town.

“Okay, who the fuck are you, Elias? Where is my good boy?”

I tsked and leaned closer to his cock, letting just the tip of my tongue trail over the skin of his head. “Say them. Right now.”

His breathing was strained, and he began to fight with the rosary around his wrists.

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