Page 63 of Priest and his Anarchist

Lips of the devil, whispers between my thighs…

Run.

Why do I love you.

I blink again, stepping closer and watching as the chalk powder slowly crumbles when I press it to the wall. I risked it all doing this, but the reality of what’s happening sinks in. I am simply a bystander.

The writing sprawls out over the board.

Don’t believe Le’ Cae. He will take you anyway.

My eyes sting. A single tear falls over my cheek. His head tilts as he spreads his other leg out. “Well?”

I kick off my heels and shift my hair from the pony it's tied in. As soon as I reach him, the flames from the makeshift fireplace scorch my skin, but I straddle his lap. I touch his neck, grazing the pulsing vein hammering against his flesh.

I grind myself over him, the way his cock rubs against my pussy too good to ignore. In a flash, he flips me over and has me on my back, his hips holding me hostage. My stomach turns hot as heat pools between my thighs, riding into him as he bites against my neck.

I wanted this. All of this.

My body takes his size as if he was made for me and me only. He pushes hard, fast, and relentless, holding himself up by thepalm of his hands. I reach for him, but he whacks away my hand. Bruises bite into my thighs as he flips me over onto my stomach. Blood fills my mouth when my teeth catch my tongue, so I refocus on the flames as he enters me from behind. The sound of his cock hitting my cervix snaps my spine straight as my nails rip from my fingers when I dig them into the carpet.

Not a word. But I chase it. Every time he grinds against my spot, I can feel myself get hotter and hotter as if I’ll implode at any minute.

Then I feel it.

The touch of a ribbon sails around my neck as my orgasm reaches its peak. My body convulses as the silk tightens, cutting all oxygen. An explosion of white lights rain down around us as my body shakes, calling for that sweet promise of euphoria.

I tap his hand. He’s gone too far—even for me, and I’m all for breath play. The world slowly grows distant, barely grasping any of my senses until everything turns dark. Bleak. There’s no point fighting it.

Everything’s out.

Good night, world.

Chapter Sixteen

luna

this is not a love story. it’s a tragedy.

The decay of nature stains my French-manicured nails as earth leaves its damp fragrance through my hair.

It rained last night? How much did I have to drink? Ugh. I hate alcohol.

My legs swing over the side of my bed, but the movement causes a sharp ache to surge through my head. My hangover has created its own heartbeat inside my brain.

“Fucking River.”

I stumble straight to the shower, not bothering to wait until it’s heated before stepping inside. Drips of water leave clean trails over the soiled parts of my body, and I turn to wash my face when something stabs my right side. Blinding pain flashes before me as I fall against a wall, holding myself up with one hand. Bruises and pain only mean one thing to me.

Fragility.

I twitch through my shower until it smells like a florist and crawl out. Cotton warms my skin as I wrap my towel around my body, snatching my toothbrush from the holder. With the muddy-brown tint now washed from my hair and my skin free of soil, I study myself in the mirror.

So much has changed.

“What is it?” I asked the Fathers, looking between the three men who I’d put so much trust in over the years, one in particular because he had spent a great deal of his time saving me from demons he didn’t even know existed. Or maybe he did know. He never made me feel like he did.

“We need you to fall.”

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