Page 76 of The Sinner's Sanctuary

Sliding himself out, he releases my neck and goes quiet. I no longer feel him anywhere, and suddenly, I’m freezing.

“Sweet, sweet, Christian,” he whispers, pressing his mouth to my hole once again. He licks and gently sucks, soothing the raw, overstretched ring of muscle. I’m dizzy. Shivering. Nothing feels real. Even his depraved kisses feel like they might be a dream—not something he would actually do—nor would anyone.

As his mouth continues to lap at my sensitive opening, the restraints on my ankles loosen. It’s over. Tears pour down my face, but there’s no sob to go with them. I feel emptied out. Like I’ll float away when he unlocks my wrists.

His tongue runs over my balls, and his hand wraps around my softening cock, pulling it between my legs to kiss and suckle.

I whimper, utterly useless. Helpless.

He sighs heavily letting my dick go. “Let’s get you off this thing.”

I can’t tell whether I want that or not. My safe word is on the tip of my tongue.

But he’s unlocking my wrist cuffs, rubbing the chafed skin beneath the restraints. “Chest up,” he says softly.

I manage to get myself back up to kneeling before his arms are around me and he’s helping me down. So many endorphins are flooding me, I can no longer tell what hurts and what feels good. It’s like I’ve lost all connection with my body. My legs shake so badly, I can barely hold myself up.

Somehow, he’s got me on the bed, beneath the covers. He climbs in behind me and pulls my back to his chest, curling around me while I shiver at all the sudden warmth.

“Christian, you were perfect. So, so good.”

I close my eyes and replay the words. Or maybe he says them again and again.

I clutch at his arms around me and work to get my bearings. The opera goes on, and I find myself wishing for a song I knew the words to. As it is, I’m stuck in my head while my body continues to float. At least I’m getting warm.

After some time has passed, he loosens his hold. “I need to clean you up.”

I don’t object. Not because I feel dirty, or because I know nothing could possibly cleanse me, but because I forget how to say no.This is how she felt.This is exactly why she died while I watched and did nothing.

I deserve to be cold and covered in dirt and filth. I deserve this.

I startle at the feel of his hand on my ass. He’s spreading something on me. There’s a cloth. There’s a liquid or a gel on myskin where the burn marks are—my ass and the backs of my thighs. There’s his breath as he blows on it.

This part feels good, which makes it wrong by default.

Nothing makes sense.

“I need you to drink some water for me.”

I turn to my other side and take the bottle he’s offering. I get about half of it down in one gulp before handing it back to him. Sleepy now, I rest my head on my arm and close my eyes.

“Leave room for me,” he says, his voice further away. “We need to be close after that.”

Something inside me must understand this. That his body might make mine feel more real. I make plenty of room for him.

I wish I didn’t want the closeness so much. I wish I could turn him down and slip away undetected, continue to deprive myself of the comfort. But I don’t have the strength to resist. I wake up as he rearranges me. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I lay my cheek on his bare chest. I’m still naked, but he has on pants.

With one hand, he strokes my head, running his fingers through my hair. “This okay?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“Tell me how you feel.”

“Tired.”

“Is the pain bad?”

“I don’t know.”

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