Page 88 of Dirty Little Saint

He unleashes everything he has, rocking me against the wall of the church like a monster. I gaze up at the purple stained glass windows and think this is what heaven feels like. And for a moment I think I hear angels sing. But it’s probably just the ravens.

He takes my lower lip between his and sucks. “Mmm, fuck. I’ll write thousands of poems for you. One for every time I make you cum.”

Fuck.

No one has ever kissed or fucked me like this before. It’s like our very souls are clawing at each other. Our essences morph into one. He squeezes my ass as I clench around him. His cock barely fits, and yet, I want to swallow him inside me and keep him there forever.

“Teach me how to fly, Professor. Teach me everything you know…” I am falling fast and hard, drowning in the perfumed abyss of this man’s poetry and passion.

He thrusts in and out, each time driving me harder into the stone wall at my back. “Ooh, Miss Blackwell, I think I like you calling me Professor when my cock is inside you.”

The way he fucks me is biblical. Holy hell. “I’ll call you whatever you want as long as you don’t stop.”

He pulls my ass cheeks apart as he grinds my pussy. The sides of his cock pulse against my walls. “Oh, shit. I’m fucking coming.”

I whine and moan as his cum floods me. It feels like a baptism, triggering my release. I roll my hips, rubbing my clit against the base of him as he grinds his cock in quick circular bursts.

“Felix!” A singular spasm multiplies within seconds as the tingling in my core heightens and spreads throughout my entire body. I soak his cock with my juices as I buck and writhe between him and the cold church wall. “Fuck… Felix,” I cry.

He kisses my cheeks, then my forehead, and my lips. “You’re the only temple I want to worship in,” he whispers in my ear as he leaves another trail of kisses up my neck and jaw.

I could happily die right now.

He sets me back down on the floor but keeps an arm around my waist to steady me. I take deep breaths as I try to regain control over my pulse.

“My sigils didn’t flare up this time…” They didn’t burn or pulse like they normally do when I’m aroused.

Felix gently rests his hand at the base of my throat, protectively holding it there. “Because this wasn’t about power or ravens or even Nocturnus… this was just for us, Maur.”

I kiss each of his hands. “In the hysteria of everything, I belong to you.”

His eyes light up. “That’s right, Little Raven. Now, let’s get you home. We have a spring equinox to plan and a whole lot of avenging to do.”

Maureen

My palms sweat as I linger in front of the door. I think I’m going to be sick. I hesitate before putting my proverbial big girl panties on and knocking. My heart races as I listen for the sound of footsteps.

I take a step back as the door jerks open violently. Villette’s eyes light up briefly as if she forgets all my transgressions for a split second. But then the hurt floods back in.

“What do you want, Maureen?”

I wince at her sour tone. “I was hoping we could talk. Can I come in?”

She glares back at me.

I thrust a pink box out into the space between us. “I brought macarons.”

She snickers. “You’re trying to bribe me with French pastries?”

“And champagne!” I reach into my bag and pull out a bottle. “Please, Villette.”

She rolls her eyes but stands aside and gestures for me to enter.

Hope. I’ll take all that I can get.

I stand in the middle of her room, afraid to make a wrong move and have her change her mind about letting me in.

She snatches the champagne from my hand, pops the cork, and takes a swig straight from the bottle. Well, fuck. She is pissed. I open the box and cautiously offer her a macaron. She grabs the whole box and sets it on the nightstand before plopping down on the bed and shoving one in her mouth.

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