Page 105 of Savior

“No, no, no. Get off me,” she whispers, still unsettled in the bed as she moves beneath the covers.

My jaw clenches even though I can’t see whatever the hell she’s inside of. It doesn’t stop me from wanting to step in between her and the nightmares. Fight them with every ounce of strength and power I have.

I get off the edge of the bed, rounding it to lie beside her, over the covers, on the other side.

Scooping her into my arms, I tug her close, kissing her forehead.

“I’ve got you, little dove. You’re not alone. You’re safe.”

I continue to tell her I have her until the nightmare seems to diminish; the entire time, she remains asleep and unaware. I wouldn’t have it any other way. She needs her sleep.

The longer I hold her, the more she feels right.

Like my arms are where she’s meant to be.

Our age difference aside, being with her feels forbidden. My being the priest that’s supposed to cull her of sin, her being the dancer in the night, being the very thing sin is made of.

If sin were a fabric, she’d be the red dye made to illuminate it.

Still, I’m comforting her, and I tell myself there’s nothing wrong with that.

I close my eyes, feeling a sense of peace wash over me, akin to how I’m only supposed to feel in the presence of the Lord himself. Placid. Tranquil.

In the arms of the one thing that could ruin me altogether.

“Sloane,”I moan as the dream world blends into reality.

Warmth glides over my length, which is hard and wanting.

“Luca,” her raspy voice answers, and I pivot my hips, looking to anchor deeper into the ocean of her. I want to drown in her. Fuck the repercussions.

“More,” I plead, madness seething in my brain as mutiny takes hold of me. “More!”

Her stilted pleas and beautiful little noises only harden me further.

“Father Russo. God, I’m going to come?—”

Something about that statement has my eyes flying open, reality crashing into my brain, and the fog of sleep peeling back.

Somehow, I’d rolled onto my side, and Sloane’s leg was over me. Her hot, drenched center is writhing over my hard cock, and her eyes are closed.

I don’t know if she’s awake, but I know she feels so damned good.

My breathing speeds as I realize the ramifications of letting this go on.

We said we would be friends and wouldn’t do this anymore. That we can’t...

She rolls her hips, begging with her tight little body for me to continue, and I’ll be damned if I don’t do as I’m told, thrusting forward and giving her just what she needs.

I’ll always be just what she needs.

“Sloane,” I grit out, and it doesn’t seem to rouse her. She’s asleep. Likely, she’s still under the haze of the cough medicine she’d taken before I’d crawled into this bed to keep the nightmares away. It’s dark beyond the windows, and the only light bleeding into the room is a nightlight plugged into the adjoining bathroom above the sink.

“Sloane!” I manage, louder this time.

She startles, gasping awake as her eyes fly open and take stock of her body and how it feels.

“Luca,” she whimpers, and I know that tone echoes her earlier words.

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