Page 23 of The Secrets of a Sin

I wanted her ruined.

I wanted her mine.

“I can make it my business.” I threaten as her eyes gloss over in want for a second, but quickly shift to a glare. “But I’d have to care.” I grin as she crosses her arms over her chest.

“Do you want my help or not?” She snaps in a raised voice that has me imagining what she’d sound like beneath me. “Cause if not, you can fuck off and I’ll solve this myself.”

I had to hold myself back from wrapping my hand around her delicate neck, so instead I reached around her head and grasped a chunk of her soft hair. With a sharp tug, her neck was bent backwards, a low groan escaped from her lips and her eyes widened. “Such a foul mouth on a woman of God.” I smile, wandering my eyes over her face that’s twisted in agony and lust. She’s breathing shallow, appears to be in pain, but not from my grip on her hair. Her body trembles in spasms, and then, suddenly, her hand seized my arm roughly. Digging her nails into my Armani dress shirt, she presses in with intent on drawing blood. The pain radiates in my arm, but instead of pulling away, my dick lurches. “What’s it with you Catholic girls?” I growl. “All desperate for cock.”

She flinches then tries to escape my hold, but I keep my hand tightly enclosed around her hair. “I don’t want anywhere near your infected cock.” She spits, causing me to laugh in return.

I knew when women wanted my dick. And Charlotte was fucking desperate. “Yah? Well, tell that to your body.” I watch as she tries to calm her body from quaking, but her efforts dwindle the second I open my mouth. “I bet if I palmed your cunt right now, you’d be soaking wet.” I half-whispered, half-tempted to shove my hand up her skirt, but teasing her was more fun.

“I bet if I head-butted you right now, you’d be regretting what you just said to me.” She snarls but her voice cracks as if my words did affect her. Grinning, I release my grip on her hair, and she takes a few steps away from me, smoothing down her hair with a deathly glare in my direction.

“You can try to hurt me.” My words seem to fuel her as her breaths turn ragged. “Just know the pain gets me off.” I grin wickedly, waiting for a snide remark or a disgusted grunt but instead, she eyes me. I can sense her uneasiness around me, the way her body tenses from the smallest of movements from me, and yet, she doesn’t flee.

“I don’t like you.” She mumbles the lie as if trying to convince herself she doesn’t feel the magnetic force between us. We sure as fuck weren’t soul mates, but we were destined for something. Perhaps it was only a smoldering hatred for one another that we confused for desire. Or it was something far more forbidden.

A craving to create mayhem beneath the sheets as I ravaged her body completely.

Yah, that was definitely fucking it.

“I don’t need you to like me. I actually preferred it if you didn’t.” I go on. I didn’t need or want her affection. Shit like that complicates everything, especially with a girl like her. A tainted girl from St. Catherine’s.

She doesn’t appear offended. If anything, she looks elated by my admission. “Good. I’m only doing this for Phoebe.” She lifts her chin proudly, and the mention of my sister feels like a sharp dagger to the heart, but I hide my emotions well. “You, I couldn’t give a fuck about.”

The thought of bending her over my knee, lifting that ugly as fuck skirt and spanking that perfectly round ass crossed my mind the second the brazen words flew out of her mouth. Her impudence was infuriating, but the idea of her submitting to me had my cock aching as it pressed roughly against the zipper of my pants. I’ve always had women willing to bow down to me; take everything that I allowed them to have. But with Charlotte, I could already tell she’d be a hell of a fight.

I wanted her complete surrender and forgiveness, but I couldn’t do it here. If we were anywhere else, I’d have her screaming my name for absolution. “Show me what you have before I make you dislike me even more.”

* * *

“Hurry up.” She hisses with her hands on the door, eyeing the hallway as I purposely take my time to her room. Growling in annoyance, she starts to slam the door in my face, but my foot catches the bottom, and I easily saunter into her room. I honestly didn’t know what I expected her room to look like, but this wasn’t it. The walls are an ugly shade of dark brown that makes her room appear smaller than it actually is. Above her twin-size bed is a large crucifix that was looming right at me as if it knew the sinful thoughts that were racing in my head. Defiling her under the house of God was one way to say ‘fuck you’ to the man upstairs, but revenge would have to wait.

“This is Phoebe’s.” Charlotte’s soft voice interrupts from behind me, and I quickly turn around. A gold chain hangs from her fingers, and I instantly feel hot with rage.

“Why the fuck do you have it?” I growl, stepping towards her, ready to snap her neck, but her sorrowful eyes clash with the part of my heart that I still do have, and instead, I snatch it from her hold.

“I saw her the day before she died.” Her voice cracks. “She was in the hallway crying and left her necklace behind. I tried to give it back, but she was already gone.”

I didn’t even notice I was bleeding until Charlotte’s eyes widen at the hand that is squeezing the necklace. My grip was tightened around the gold like a boa constrictor until a piece tore through the skin, and droplets of blood fell onto the ground. She fidgets awkwardly in front of me as if she can sense my temper rising, but to my surprise doesn’t back away in fear. Instead, she meets my eyes, and I slowly loosen my hand.

“I.. I tried asking her if she was okay, but she shrugged me off.”

Typical Phoebe.

Never wanting anyone to see her emotions.

“I think it has something to do with that.” She nods towards my hand, and I slowly reveal the chain in my palm, now coated in a thin layer of my blood. A small, rusted key lies on my hand, and that’s when I notice etching on the side.

“What does this say?” I run the tip of my finger over the words, trying to somehow figure it out myself.

“Now I know what love means.” Charlotte answers, but her words seem to fade in the background.

Love.

Phoebe was in love.

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