Page 99 of Eyes Like Angel
“What did Sister Eva do again?”
“Who’s Sister Eva again? I don’t recall her name.”
“I wish Romano would drag me on the stage like that—being man-handled by him. No fair!”
“Ugh, her? Why her, of all people? She’s plain as the church bread!”
“But their church bread was no good.”
“Exactly my point! She’s as plain as she can be. No man is going to want her. Not with that appearance.”
“I don’t know why Romano has given her a huge credit. I did the work, too!”
Huffing with my ragged breath, I need someplace quiet, free from people’s judgmental eyes and their superficial cheers.
My body shriveled at the occurrence. I need somewhere place to be as myself in.
Callous hand tugged and leads me back to one of the rooms. Switching the lights on, Adrian caught a breath in his mouth, recollecting his thoughts to straighten his priority. His towering body feeble at his staggering breath, from catching up to me, his deep red trench coat flowed as he bent his leaned forward.
“Adrian,” I gasped, “why are you—”
His lips captured mine.
I pulled myself back, heaving. “We shouldn’t be doing this. Not here,” I begged him, heaving.
Adrian made no consideration. “Fuck it.”
His lips captured mine again.
My eyes were shot wide open, feeling my lips colliding to his, my squeaks muffled.
Adrian shoved me back and had me on the table. He undressed his long coat, unveiling his strong physique clung onto by his formal shirt. His breath ragged from the kiss, pulled back, his lingering gaze taken me in, his eyes darted down on my crucifix pendant before he yanked it as his other hand placed me down, lying on my back, the skirt hitched up around my waist. Ashamed as I was, my legs were unshaved, but thankfully Adrian didn’t mind. What I mind was Adrian was being at a close proximity.
Having his body pressing down on me, his hands roamed and his eyes raked at my vulnerable form, lying down on Father Divine’s desk.
“Eva,” his voice in a low rumble, a subtle anger was reeling, but he kept his cool. “This is your punishment. You’ve been abadangel.”
My breath heaved, a shot of panic sent straight to my heart.
I should run. I should hide, hide in the corner.
But then, somehow, I wasn’t.
In a flash, Adrian locked his lips onto mine, his body heated and desperate, grinding, our breaths grew hotter. He slipped his tongue inside my mouth, mingling my own, he drew long moan, groaning into my ear.
“My, you tasted so heavenly,” he whispered. “Such a good angel.” He pressed another wet kiss to me passionately. “Good angel.”
He kissed me again, and trailed his mouth onto my jawline.
“Goodangel.”
Adrian cradled his right hand at my back head, discarding my white underwear, uncovering me, my wet folds drained from my stubbly slit, white and wet slicked folds displayed before him. Licking his tongue, his head sunk in, tasting me, his forehead touching mine. The frame of his widow’s peak framed his locks cloaking our kiss; the palest strands tickled my cheek.
Squealed, my hand covered my mouth, my teeth lanced in between my sleeves, unable to watch him tasting me. Licking a few deep laps in my folds, my voice squealed louder, trying to shut my noise down, but unable to. He inserted his tongue inside me, humming as my other hand clenched at his long blond locks, as his other hand spread my left leg apart, keeping it open.
His thirst had gone wilder, lapping my bushy folds a few times. He didn’t mind my unshaved part of me; he was enjoying it, as if he hasn’t drank a liquid in his life, gulping every last drop.
His head lifted, and my juices smothered over his lips, licked and relished, drawing out a satisfied hum and kissed me again, tasting myself.
