Page 182 of Priest and his Anarchist

“What’s the matter, pretty girl? Don’t wanna play a game?”

My face must fall because he laughs, flipping me over as he lands on his back. “I’m fucking kidding, Luna. Ride me.”

I roll my hips over him, adjusting my position by holding on to the muscles in his chest. Hard thrusts threaten the level of carnage that hovers below the surface. “Unless you wanna play….”

I bite his lip. “Not too far. I swear…”

His smile curves against my mouth, as his hand rests on the holster at my thigh. The sharp end presses against my throat, before sliding down my ribs.

My stomach twists tighter, my body building higher. The threat of falling over the edge right there. The first sting comes quickly, as if he’s testing it out, but I can’t stop because if I do, I’ll crash.

Catching my nipple between his teeth, the second sting hits me. This one a little longer. His hands are around my throat as he forces me up the bed until he’s sitting up. I lower my mouth down to his and ride him hard. His cock fills every inch, andI pinch my nipples and roll my hips at the third scratch in the same spot. Sweat slides down my spine as the fourth, fifth, sixth.

I moan, and he catches it, taking me deeper into forced, slow thrusts. “This is mine. Always has been, always fucking will be.”

Metallic taste slides down my throat, and I fall forward when my orgasm rips through me. He catches my weight as the room spins and my body jerks through it, before his fingers bite into my hips and he fucks me with a force so brutal, the crack of my stomach vibrates through me and tears prick the corner of my eyes.

“Luna, baby. Stay with me….”

I keep my eyes open, but they’re heavy. A smile touches my lips as another roll of orgasm pulls me under. His thumb is on my clit, circles slow and precise, before he flips me on my back, spreading my legs wide.

The cold brush of air is replaced by the warmth of his tongue. Memories of us fly through my head. Of him.

He circles his tongue over my clit and my body arches off the bed like the damn exorcist. The room continues to spin, my body worked up into throbbing tension that needs to release.

The fifth Jane Doe has been found, this time outside a cathedral in Riverside. Her body was found hanging upside down, cleaned out with the same strangulation marks around her neck. Like them, this one has no ID on her either. Seems these girls are just lost ones.

Images flash as his kisses get desperate and he continues to thrust his cock deep until I cave into the mattress. Coming in and out of consciousness, he bites down on the side of my jaw.

The intoxicating sound of our bodies slapping only gets hungrier.

Louder.

The primal urge to die in his arms outweighs any logic when his hand is on my throat, seizing any hope of breathing. His snarlis brutal as he empties inside of me. I’ve barely come down from the last when another snatches my soul. The tension, the lies, the hate, the love explodes around us both in heated breaths and when his weight pins me down, I sigh, massaging his head.

“The girls you took into the room.”

He freezes, and a yawn escapes me. Blood still oozing from the cut on my ribs.

“They were Perdita girls, weren’t they?”

He doesn’t answer. Remaining frozen in place.

“Yeah. Yeah, they were.” His answer toneless.

“Rabbit?” My voice drunk with sleep.

“Mmm?” He pulls me in close.

“Follow my lead, okay?”

Chapter Forty-Four

priest

Loving her is knowing she’ll take you out with the same hand she fed you.

I shove the sheets off my body, stumbling for the door as my phone blares on the counter.

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