Page 60 of Savior

“Just taking some time to reflect was all,” I tell her.

She takes up at my side as I lead her to my office, but as long as this meeting is going to take, my mind is going to be back in that confessional, with Sloane grinding on my tongue.

After four meetings,it’s almost eight p.m., and I’m eager to return to Sloane. I want to know she hasn’t run off after what happened in the confessional. And while I know what happened was wrong, I don’t feel guilty. I can’t let myself. It felt too right.

Too perfect.

Too good.

I push inside the rectory, fully ready to find her on her bed with a book; I stand amazed when my eyes rake over her in the kitchen, dancing to some song on the radio with a spatula, flipping over something in a pan on the stove.

I lock the door behind me and close all the curtains.

Not that I have indecent plans for her, but because I can’t be trusted when I’m around her. Clearly.

The way I smelled her on me as I took meeting after meeting nearly drove me insane for the rest of the day, but now all I want is for her to solidify the scent.

To rub her wanton cunt on my tongue and make her scent my new cologne.

I recall she’s Ray’s daughter, and a morsel of guilt wavers in my chest.

But then I remember I’ll never hurt her the way her parents have.

I’ll stand between her and anyone who seeks to harm her.

I want nothing more than to become her fucking shield.

She shrieks as she sees me, nearly tossing the spatula before she catches her breath from the shock.

“Sorry,” I say. I was just watching you dance.

“Fuck, you’re like a ninja. I didn’t hear you come in!”

I smile, trekking closer to see what she’s trying to cook.

And to my surprise, it smells delicious.

“What is that?” I ask.

“It’s a… concoction,” she answers, and I notice her voice has dropped a couple of octaves.

“A what?” I ask, laughing.

Her cheeks heat, and I realize that she’s embarrassed.

“Hey Sloane, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”

She clears the emotion from her throat and face, standing taller. “No. It’s fine. When you grow up like I did, you learn to throw whatever is in the fridge or freezer together and make it work—when there’s food, that is.”

The last part nearly sends me into a rage. I have to remind myself that she’s safe now. And if I have it my way, she’ll remain that way. I’ll never let her go back to that life.

Part of my brain knows that’s not my choice, however.

She’s got her entire life ahead of her. She’s still young.

Too young to have my tongue sliding through her pussy, but it’s a bit too late to dwell on that fact.

“Well, what did you throw into this concoction of yours?” I ask, grabbing a fork and getting some onto the prongs.

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