Page 73 of Savior

“Do you want it?” Brynne asks me, and I nod once, denying how much I’m craving Sloane. The absence of her beside me is driving me up a wall, and it shouldn’t be like she was a poison made only for me to drink, my kryptonite.

My phone goes off as Ardesia sends me her address, and I don’t dare look at it. I just need to know that if I need to get to her, I can.

They drop me off at the church, and I make it to bed first thing. I don’t want to shower, even though I smell like sex and cheap cigarettes. And it’s all because I can still feel her on me. Her scent permeates my skin, and I want it there for as long as it’ll remain.

When my eyes close after I pray for forgiveness and guidance, her perfume and the phantom touches she left behind lull me into the darkness as I exhale in acceptance.

She’s tiedto the cross on the apse, and I’m sitting in the first pew, looking at her like she’s a prize.

“Father, please,” she begs, her body moving as much as her restraints will allow her.

I roll my neck as I stand, twirling the rosary through the air in circles to taunt her. “Have you repented for your sins, little dove?”

She whimpers as I approach.

The lines where the rosary had already licked at her flesh are red and raised, and yet, they don’t stop me from wanting more from wanting to see how those same marks would look on her ass.

She wiggles as I step into her, looming overhead like her personal god that commands her.

“I have,” she whispers, jutting her defiant little chin.

My hand with the rosary finds her center, rubbing the beads over her swollen clit. “And yet,” I say, lifting a lip in fake disgust, “your pussy is wetter than the last time you came to me in confession of your dark thoughts.”

“I’m sorry, Father,” she says, and it makes me close my eyes, fighting the carnal urges I’m not supposed to give into as my cock surges behind the confines of my pants.

I continue to rub the beads through the wet anarchy she’s sloppy with, and her moans paint the room, bouncing off the stained glass like a holy prayer screamed to the heavens.

“God,” she pleads, and I smirk fiendishly.

“God won’t save you, little dove. Not even here,” I taunt, shoving a portion of the beads inside her entrance, feeling her warmth invite them in, swallowing the blessed beads like it’s where they belonged the entire time.

“Father,” she mutters, her head thrashing back and forth as I work the beads inside her, only to tug them back out slowly.

“Yes, my child,” I manage. My eyes travel down her beautiful body, covered in my marks, tied on the cross in sacrifice for me and me alone.

“I need you. Please, Father,” her pupils are blown when she opens her beautiful honey-colored eyes and finds mine.

I smirk. “Tell me what you need. For Proverbs tells us, ‘Truthful lips endure forever, but a lying tongue lasts only a moment.’”

Her head lolls around in ecstasy as I work the beads back over her clit before shoving them slowly back inside her core.

“Please, Father, fuck me. God, I need you so much.”

Her words slam through me like the loudest hymn I’ve ever heard. “Is that right, little dove?”

“Yes, please,” she begs, body shuddering as I drag the beads back out of her center as she whimpers prettily for me again.

“Then why do you keep saying His name, do you think?”

“I—” her brows tug together, mouth hung open as I slide two fingers inside her wet cunt, hooking them upward as I find her G-spot and caress it softly in circular motions.

“You?” I taunt, increasing the pressure of my fingers inside her, hanging my mouth open as if I can suck up her pleasure as means of sustenance as I watch her crest the wave of lust into the space where she’s floating in heaven that only I rule.

“Say it, little dove. I’m your fucking god,” I growl, latching onto her lip with my teeth and biting until I taste the tang of her blood hit my tongue.

“You’re my god!” she breathes, body bucking on my fingers.

I drop to my knees before her, watching her as I work her over with my fingers.

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