Page 86 of Unholy Obsession

And then—finally—the worry line in her brow smooths.

Satisfaction rumbles low in my chest.

Good.

If I can give her anything tonight, let it be this.

“Yes. I give permission for everything. I’m yours.” She meets my gaze, steady and fearless, with the kind of bravery that makes my breath catch?—

The kind of bravery that makes me love her.

I step into her, knee sliding between her legs, hands beneath her coat to cinch around her waist. My fingertips squeeze against her warm flesh.

“Even if everything I want to do tonight is very, very wrong?”

“Yes.” Her breath hitches, and her eyes brighten. “Yes. I love wrong things the best of all.”

I search her eyes, my top lip twitching. I slide her coat from her shoulders, my hands trailing down her arms until it slips to the floor at her feet.

Still pinning her gaze with mine, I grab the low-cut concert tee she’s wearing with both fists right at her cleavage. Then I rip it down the center.

She’s not wearing a bra, and her small, perfect tits heave up and down as her nipples pebble in the cool air. The heat is on, but the arching loft of the sanctuary means it never warms up all the way in here.

She swallows hard when I reach down and roughly grab for the back of her skirt, yanking her body to mine as I undo the button and zipper, adding the layers of black cotton fabric fluff to the growing pile of clothes at her feet.

Now I’m the one gulping.

“You’re so fucking stunning, naked and in nothing but your boots.” I lean into her, pressing my forehead against hers.

“I want you.” I fist my hands to keep them by my side instead of touching her.

“You have me,” she whispers back, lip trembling.

Do I?

Why is it all crashing in on me tonight?

My past and my future andher. My sense of control trembles on a knife’s edge. But control is all I have. It’s all that’s separated me from…him.

But isn’t that what I’ve seen tonight at the end of it all? At the end of the charade?

It’s all been a lie.

I’ve been a lie. Playing at priest. The collar’s like a costume I put on.

Finally, I let myself touch her. I grab her by the waist, lift her and set her bare bottom down on the altar.

“Sweet dove,” I murmur, stepping between her legs, jaw flexing. “Didn’t you ever realize? The discipline was as much for me as it was for you.”

She blinks, eyes wide as she sits so fucking gorgeously on the consecrated altar. I feel such deep fucking satisfaction, followed by a dark wave of need.

“It was?” She gulps, and my eyes zero in on the delicate curve of her neck.

It takes the last of my control to reach down for her left boot, unlacing it, tugging it gently from her foot, and dropping it carelessly to the floor behind us. Then I peel the sock from her sacred skin.

I lift her foot to kiss the arch, pressing my cheek to her cool skin. Her toes twitch against my cheek and I exhale, looking up into her surprised face. Then I repeat the ceremony with her right boot.

Her legs tremble by the time I’ve kissed her arch, and then the top of her foot, and then caress my hands up the outsides of her calves before finally stepping back from her.

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