Page 93 of Beneath His Robes

“I’m waiting, Sinner.”

“Fucking hell! Hail Mary full of grace.” he began, and I gripped him even tighter, letting my fists slowly glide down his length.

“The lord is with thee,” he continued, his breathing hitching on the words as I followed my hands with my tongue.

“Blessed art though…among…woman–fuck!” he was shaking, so close my mouth stretched with his pulses.

“And blessed is the–oh my fucking god–fruit of thy womb, Jesus.”

“Good boy. Almost there,” I praised, moving my hands faster, rolling my tongue underneath the soft skin of his head.

His hands tangled in my hair, his wrists still bound in my rosary beads. The cross lay flat against his contoured abs as he inhaled rapidly, fighting to keep speaking.

“Holy fucking Mary…Mother of God. I can’t, oh my god. I can’t, Mon Pur. You are so fucking cruel.”

I was already pulling away from his dick, letting it stand alone, falling onto his stomach, and covering the cross.

“No, no, no! Okay-okay. Fucking, hell,” he gasped and pulled me by my hair back to his cock. “Pray for us sinners.”

He was so close, and so was I…my balls ached, and I felt the release building. I knew it would take those last words. I was shaking, so ready to feel his come coat my tongue that I couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Say it. Say the last part of the prayer. I am going to hell already, so I might as well enjoy this.”

Ronan was shaking. The water sprayed down onto his abs, and his eyes were a battle of war and submission. Finally, he opened his mouth, his head fell back against the towel, and he let go of my hair. In an unsteady breath, he said, “Now and at the hour of our death.”

“End it. Say the final word. I will let you come if you obey me.”

Ronan whimpered, on the threshold of release and agony. I kept him on the edge, stroking him deep, swallowing his cock until that pulsing had me pulling back. I couldn’t see what was water versus sweat on our bodies, and my own orgasm was begging to break the dam.

“Oh, fucking hell. Ahh-men!”

Just like that, his cock went off like a gun, his sweet slippery cum spilling into my mouth and down my throat. My own orgasm overtook me. Rendering me just as immobile. Only able to moan against his spent cock.

“Fuck. That’s right. Pray for forgiveness of all the sins I can’t stop now. You have corrupted my soul, Ronan. I’ll never be able to stop corrupting your body.”

And then I was coming, my entire body shaking with my release. I felt the weight of the world in the action. The finality of everything was done, and it solidified so much. Made it painfully permanent and impossible to ignore.

And for once, I was happy.

ChapterThirty-Three

Ronan

The next morning, I was in my truck heading to Vegas.

I had shit I needed, and I couldn’t bear the thought of going into my mom’s trailer, so I had no choice but to travel back to Vegas.

Elias didn’t want to leave me. He was insistent on coming with me even though I told him my apartment was nothing special. I lived in shit my entire life. It wasn’t any different when I left to hide in Las Vegas. If anything, it was a different kind of shit. I hadn’t been in prostitution since I had come back to Monticello.

It was a long drive back to my home away from home…about seven to eight hours, give or take, with traffic. Elias slept the majority of the time, and I enjoyed listening to his soft snores, glancing over to see his soft curls blow from the heater.

He was beautiful.

We hadn’t exactly gotten a lot of sleep last night, but I knew he needed this. I was yawning like a bitch, but I couldn’t have slept even if I had the chance. My mind was consumed with him.

Now, I kept my hands on the wheel, fingers gripping tight as I tried to keep my focus on the road.

Elias sat next to me, the car smelling faintly of his cologne mixed with the stale air of my own neglected ride. I could feel his presence beside me, his quiet strength somehow grounding me in a way that nothing else had in a long time.

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