Page 60 of The Preacher's Pet

The idea of being alone is overwhelming after everything that’s happened.

“I have some t-shirts here. You can borrow one.” Cain’s offer is kind, and his t-shirt will probably fit like a nightdress on me.

“How about I make us some hot chocolate?”

I raise my brow at Malachi, whose mask is now sitting on the countertop. “You have all these herbs and concoctions and then among it all, you’ve got hot chocolate?”

“Got to have some comfort items.” He shrugs. “Can’t call it a home without hot chocolate.”

I giggle at that. The tension is broken with Malachi’s suggestion, and I’m grateful.

He busies himself making the drinks, while I go with Cain to borrow a t-shirt. But I can’t help worrying about Roman. We pushed him to do this.

Is he going to be okay?

31

ROMAN

I wander for a long time,trying to clear my head. The multitude of thoughts are driving me crazy. I want Ophelia so much it hurts, but I don’t want to break my vows. Ever since I took them and started to work with the ancient gods and my ancestors, I’ve grown stronger, less afraid, and more powerful.

I’m so fucking scared I’ll lose that if I let myself join the others in their debauchery. I’ve worked so damn hard to put the past in its place and not let it rule my life any longer. Ophelia calls to me, though. She’s so perfect for me. The way she takes direction is beautiful. Malachi seems to have a thing for her hair, and I know Cain likes them petite, and I think he’s got a secret size kink. My attraction goes beyond the surface level. I like her for who she is. Ophelia is complicated. She’s so submissive on the one hand, but on the other, she’s got real resilience and strength.

That’s what makes her submission all the more delicious.

I end up in the clearing in the woods where I’d flagellated myself mere days ago. Normally, I can go a long time in between, but the need to do it again is already building. If I don’t, I fear I’ll give in to temptation and find myself surrendering to Ophelia’s pull.

I hit the trunk of the tree in front of me full on with my fist, and curse when the skin of one knuckle tears. The pain feels good, though, and, with a roar, I pummel the tree, cursing as I hit it over and over again.

Eventually, I run out of steam and slide down to the ground until I’m squatting, breathing heavily. I look at my knuckles and wince. They’re bruised and split. There’s no way I can keep this hidden from the others. They’re going to know what I’ve done.

Fuck.

I’m lost. For the first time in many years, I feel afraid and unsure. Ophelia might be cured. She might have been freed from the voice that scares her, but I’m trapped in a cage of desire and fear.

I want her, but I don’t want to need her. Not in this way.

Why would the gods show me the way forward and then put this temptation in my path? Is she a test, or is she really the true key to my enlightenment?

The worst part is that I’m still hard. Even after having battered my knuckles until they’re bloodied, I’m overwhelmed with my need for her. Every time I close my eyes, all I can see is her wet, swollen pussy. Cain’s cum, mingled with her virgin blood, slipping out of her.

A virgin. Fuck.

I lower my head and press the heels of my hands into my eye sockets. I could have been the one who took her virginity. I could have insisted I be the one, and they would have gone with it, because they’d have been happy to have me onboard. It was right that it had been Cain, though. The two of them had a history, and she trusted him.

Then I think of everything we’d done tonight and realize she must trust all of us to put herself in such a vulnerable position.

The thought of her trusting me, when I’ve given her no real reason to, makes my chest ache.

After everything she’s been through, how can she be so trusting? So innocent. Sopure.She should want to run a hundred miles in the opposite direction, but instead she literally laid herself bare.

I think of her pussy again, previously untouched.

How can something so beautiful be wrong?

Against my judgement, but overwhelmed with need, I close my eyes and drop to my ass, my back pressed against the tree. I stretch my legs out in front of me and undo the button on my jeans. It’ll be getting light soon, and I can’t do this in the daylight. I need the cover of night.

I open my jeans and reach in, freeing my cock. With my eyes still shut, my chin lifted, the back of my head pressed to the bark behind me, I fist my erection. My mind is filled with thoughts of Ophelia, our beautiful nymph. I picture her dancing through these trees, her white dress billowing out behind her. She’s barefooted and, smiling, glances over her shoulder at me, beckoning me to chase her.

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