Page 57 of Of Sinners & Salvation
“So do it,” I say, lifting up and positioning him at my entrance. “Fuck me, Father. Destroy me. I’m yours to ruin.”
I bear down, but he’s too big. He slips away, unable to breach my entrance even though it’s soaked and ready. I try again, panting and straining to take him.
Suddenly his words from a moment ago sink in fully, and I go still, frozen with shock.
My mind loops back to the moment in the sanctuary at Thorncrown, the one I haven’t let myself think about for months, the one I pretend never happened. Tied over the altar, terrified and helpless. And how hard my assailant struggled to breach my tightness, how he had to hold a fist around his length to keep from entering me fully, even though he was bruising my depths. I told myself it was Angel, that it only hurt worse because it was my first time, that I only couldn’t take all of him because I had no experience.
I back off Father Salvatore and drop my feet to the floor, staring at him with wide eyes as he reclines there in the pool of blood left from the man he just killed. “What do you mean, you want to fuck meagain?”I whisper, tears blurring my vision. “That wasyou?You’re the one who took my virginity?”
nineteen
The Merciless
“Of course I did,” Father Salvatore says, not even having the decency to look ashamed. In fact, he looks a little annoyed by my outburst. “It was mine to take.”
“It wasmine,”I retort, angrily wiping away my tears.
“I’m your Master,” he says, his voice softening as he climbs off the gory desk. “Your shepherd. Am I not?”
“Yes, but…” A fresh wave of tears fills my eyes as the sense of betrayal pierces my heart again.
“I was gentle,” he insists. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“But you did hurt me,” I cry. “How could you do that to me?”
“You weren’t accepting that your body is made for this,” he says. “That there’s no shame in it. I had to show you.”
“You violated me!”
“I taught you not to be ashamed,” he says. “You said so yourself. I taught you to give yourself to a man completely, that it’s not wrong.”
“It is wrong! What you did to me is wrong!”
He steps closer, backing me against the desk. One hand grips the front of my throat, and my pulse races as he skims his other hand up my thigh, still slick with my arousal. His eyes hold me pinned even as my chest heaves with my hitching breaths. My traitorous thighs part, and my hips rock forward, seeking the pleasure he can give me. Holding my gaze, a smirk playing over his lips, he pushes two fingers deep inside me.
“Does this feel wrong?”
“No, but—”
He curls his fingers inside me, and my back bows as pleasure ripples through me, tearing a cry of ecstasy from my lips as I writhe in his grip. My hands clench the edge of the desk, and my hips rock back and forward, seeking friction. Triumph lights his eyes as I fuck his fingers.
“Because it’s not wrong,” he says. “We are one flesh. Your body is my body. Mine to do with as I please.”
“You betrayed me,” I gasp out, trying to hold onto my anger even as my legs begin to shake and spasm when he continues stroking the spot inside me with relentless, merciless strokes.
“I’m your god,” he says. “What I deem as necessary cannot be wrong. Now cum on my fingers like an obedient little lamb if you want to remain a disciple of your god.”
He slides his fingers out, leaving me empty.
“No,” I cry, grasping for his hand, dragging it back between my thighs. “Don’t stop. Father God, fuck me with whatever will fit.”
He drives three fingers deep inside me, and I quake with relief. He draws back, then squeezes his fourth finger against my entrance.
“Oh god, Father,” I cry. “It’s too much.”
“Relax,” he commands, stroking my trembling belly with his free hand. “It’ll fit.”
“It won’t,” I cry as I feel them stretching me painfully.
