Page 14 of Unholy

“Why would you be obsessed with me?” her bottom lip trembles when she speaks, and I can feel my cock hardening in my jeans.

“Because it always ends badly for one of us.”

“You’ve done this before?”

“When I was younger.”

“And what happened to her?” I debate telling her what happened. To that little girl who caught all my fucking attention back then.

“She’s dead.” Ash gasps loudly and tries to move, but I cage her in with my arms, resting my hands on the wall on either side of her head.

“Get away from me.”

“Is that what you really want?” I ask her. She nods her head, but I don’t hear any words coming from her mouth, so I take that as my reason to stay exactly where I am.

“Take your panties off,” I tell her. She narrows her eyes and shakes her head. “Now, or I’ll do it for you, Ash.” I step back enough for her to move, and when I do, she tries to run. I reach out and grab her around the waist, slamming her against the wall where she was just at. “I’ll do it.”

“Please don’t.”

“Then do it, Ash!” I roar at her. She reaches down and slips her hands under her skirt, pulling her panties off and holding them tightly in her hand. “Now give them to me.”

Slowly, she puts them in the palm of my outstretched hand. I close my fist around them before bringing them to my nose and inhaling, closing my eyes. If I weren’t a fucking obsessed man before, I would be now.

I open my eyes and look at Ash before nodding my head and stepping back, letting her go. She takes off into her bathroom, shutting the door when I hear the lock click into place. I smile, knowing I’m getting to her the same fucking way she’s getting under my fucking skin.

Chapter 6

Ash

I should feel degraded, except I don’t. I almost feel empowered. Like I can take on the world after what he did to me. I should be ashamed, yet strangely, I’m not. I know deep down I’ll regret doing that. I know if my dad finds out what I did, he’ll beat me until I can’t walk for my sins.

It’s been a few days and no one seems to notice the strange tension between me and Tristan. We had a family dinner that, of course, Tristan made uncomfortable for me.

Now, I’m intrigued more than anything. I walk down the stairs to find him much the same as the last time, painting.

“What’s that?” He quickly turns to look at me, blocking his painting from my sight.

“None of your concern.”

“Who’s your favorite painter?” I ask, hoping to gain some insight into Tristan because he’s very closed off.

“Again, none of your business.”

“I study art in college. I want to teach,” I tell him, praying that maybe he’ll join the conversation.

“Teach?”

“Yeah, art classes for kids. That’s my dream.”

“That’s a bullshit dream, Little Nun. You can do more than that.”

“Such as?”

“Be my little whore. On your knees praying to me every night,” he says, his eyes as black as coal. I can feel the heat in my cheeks, and I know he can see it.

“There’s nothing wrong with my dream. Don’t you have dreams?”

“No. I have nightmares.”

---