Page 37 of Forgive Me For I Have Sinned

Alaric walks forward, and I turn to allow him to pass, so he can open the door, but he pauses and gives me an impish smile. "I will be serviced, Veronica." He takes my lips in his, and our tongues meet. Hating him so much but wanting him so bad. He licks, tastes, and fucks me with his mouth, sliding his hand across my cheek, caressing my skin for a few seconds, and I bite him hard, tasting blood before he pulls away, leaving my lips swollen and my head in a daze. His lips break into a wicked smile, licking the blood off from where I bit him.

"I'm different from all the others, Veronica. I'm beyond what is deemed good or evil. You finally did it." Did what? A wave of horror causes the tiny hairs to stand up on my arms at the coldness in his eyes. I'm terrified. He has the power to kill me. "I'm going to enjoy the way you have driven me to insanity." He growls and licks me from my chin to the tip of my nose like a dog. He opens the door when I raise my hand. "Don't wipe it off," he warns.

Dropping my hand, I follow him to see Sasha widen her eyes when he heads to the elevator. "Mr. Riordan?"

He presses the button, turns sideways, and answers her question with a furtive gleam in his eyes. "I'll be out to lunch. Clear my calendar for the rest of the day."

"Yes, sir," she says flatly.

We reach the blacked-out Maybach SUV waiting on the curb. Dark and imposing like the man that owns it. The bodyguard I saw at the Galleria stands with the door open, tipping his head in my direction his eyes sliding over me, but when Alaric looks over, he straightens and looks away.

"I'm glad we understand each other," he says.

"My apologies, sir."

The man, I'm assuming is Portman, shuts the door after we are both inside. Alaric has a hungry sneer on his lips when I cross my legs, and he presses the privacy screen closed. "Take off your panties and pantyhose and put your boots back on."

When I hesitate, he reaches and tugs the pantyhose hard, making them rip. "Off," he demands.

After a few moments of staring at each other, knowing he can force me to do anything he wants, I nod and slide my boots off, not missing the shit-eating grin on his face when I slide my panties over my knees.

"Like this," I say in a taunting voice, opening my legs.

He leans closer to get a look at my waxed pussy. The pupils of his eyes darken, full of thirst. My clit is throbbing for him to touch me, but my mind is telling me not to give in to him, that he is just like all the men in my life. Evil.

He slides his finger on my thigh to my knee, making me squirm. "I want access to you at all times.” His fingers grip the tips of my blonde hair. "I don't want this on. I want your natural hair."

"My father will not approve."

"Fuck your father. You serve me now, and I don't want some fake version of you."

I nod because that is the rule, serve and obey. If not, it is the same as sinning. My father will not agree with me parading around members of the Order with my natural hair. It is forbidden.

I glance out the window. "Then I won't be considered pure under his rules."

"That is pointless when I'm going to dirty you, and everyone is going to see it, but like I said before, I need consent before touching you, and I don't need your hair a different shade to think you're pure. I took what was pure about you––"

"And I bled for it," I say quietly.

"I don't regret taking it. I regret not taking it sooner."

Alaric has the driver stop in front of the Galleria, and I don't question why we are here. I also don't miss the way Alaric leans back adjusting his erection in his pants, trying to get a mental image but coming up blank. That night we went right into things, and there was no time to explore his body how I wanted to. All I remember were his rough thrusts that felt like he was splitting me in two. He has a large cock, but I want to know if it's pink at the tip or darker than the tone of his skin and how it would feel on my tongue when he slides to the back of my throat.

Then the part of me that wants to be free of this life kicks in; this man cares nothing for me. He will use me and then hand me over to a man that will make me suffer. This is just a game to him. I'm something to be used. No better than a toy for men to enjoy.

We enter a boutique called Madame with dark lace and sex toys on glass shelves. When the owner of the store notices me with Alaric, she smiles coquettishly. "Is this her?"

"It is."

She undresses me with her eyes, pausing on my breasts, waist, and thighs. "She's perfect."

"I know," he responds.

Some may think it's a compliment, but I know better. Perfect to be his whore and unworthy to be loved.

"Right this way. I have already brought some things out. I just need to take some measurements and I can make anything you wish in her size."

I'm inside the dressing room, and there are different styles of underwear and bras neatly laid out. Black, white, nude, and red. There are small scraps of lace barely covering anything. I turn when I hear the door shut, but I'm not alone. He's standing behind me and I'm in front of the mirror.

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