Page 88 of Priest and his Anarchist

“I don’t care.” I spread her legs with my thigh and bring my other hand to her front, sliding up the smooth surface of her skin until my fingertips reach the lace of her underwear. “How many times did you fuck yourself to me?”

She gasps, and my brain turns to mud when my finger caresses the smooth skin of her pussy. “Did you think of that night? How you begged me to fuck you into death the same way you’d seen me do to others.” My hand covers her as I begin slow strokes over her clit.

Her head crashes back against the door. “Priest, please…stop. I?—”

“Stop? Why, Madness?” My index finger dips inside her mound with lazy strokes. “Is it because you’re not sure if you’ll still be the only girl who has ever fucked me and lived to tell?”

Her tongue dampens her bottom lip, and I draw her in again. Dropping careful kisses to the corner of her mouth before slipping two fingers deep inside her. The quiver of her defeat sends tremors through my body when her forehead falls against my chest with a small moan.

“So fucking easy to get you wet, Madness…” I tease into her ear. I’m only half-joking. “How many times has someone done this to you, hmmm?”

It comes out as a chuckle, and she finally lifts her head, leaning back against the door.

Her following words almost stopped me. “I want to see you lose control.”

I swipe her clit with the base of my thumb. “That’ll never happen.”

Her head tilts, casting shadows over her face. Equal in both strength and grace, the sharp curve of her jaw is a reminder of both sides that exist inside of her.

“Are you sure?”

A rush behind my ears is deafening, the violent beating of my heart murderous. She slowly lowers to her knees, her eyes staying up on mine. It’s bad enough that I broke my own rule once for her, and apparently letting her walk after fucking her that night was a mistake.

One I promised myself I’d fix if given the chance. But with her hair flowing down her back with a barely secured ribbon and her doe eyes peering up at me like this, I’m fucked.

The warmth from her hand wrapping around my cock is a reminder of the starved animal with a taste only for her. I bury my fingers in her hair. Using it as a handle, I force her face back until her lashes fan out over her cheeks. Never has a girl outwardly done anything to even so much as talk near me, yet little Luna Nox grabs my cock as if she fucking owns it. The Huntress doesn’t count. They’re barely human.

I bite down on my bottom lip when the silk of her tongue touches the base of my cock. Fighting an internal battle, I sit between the two choices. I should push her away.

I need to.

But fuck. That tongue…

My cock disappears between her pink lips, stopping when she can’t fit more. Her tongue teases the bottom of my shaft, and my hips buck forward when I feel my control slipping.

My hand finds the front of her throat, forcing her back to her feet. Locked in a silent argument, we’re both asking the same thing. This shouldn’t happen. But it’s going to…

We shouldn’t.

But it’s the why we shouldn’t bit that means we should. I’m not reckless and she’s not messy, but together we’re an apocalyptic promise to all.

Keeping her eyes fixed on mine, she swipes her thumb over my cock before lifting it to her mouth and sucking off my cum.

Using the grip on her throat, I shove her up against the door and use my other beneath her ass to lift her off the ground. She wraps her legs around my waist like a vise as her eyes roll to the back of her head.

“Hard and fucking fast, Madness. If I’m left with too much time, I’ll kill you.”

Her tits jiggle against my chest when she laughs, wine-stained cheeks. She’s fucking maniacal.

So fucking mad.

So fucking mine.

She rolls her hips, and I fumble with her belt and button of her jeans. “Take these the fuck off.”

Sliding down my body, she kicks off her jeans, and I stumble backward. Hot-pink lace with a small bow at the center, sheer enough to notice the small strip she keeps manicured and short. The urgency to have her feels primal as my blood reaches a boiling point.

“If anyone walks through that door right now.” My eyes land on hers. “They’re fucking dead.” I grab her by the throat, forcing her back into my arms, her legs wrapping around my waist as I step backward and onto the edge of my bed. Touching the curve of her spine, I glide up the arch of her back, stopping where her shoulders meet her neck.

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