Fear the Wicked (Illusions Series Book 2)(5)

I'd feel wrong for taking such full advantage if I didn't loathe the easily deceived, the pathetic minded majority that clung to a story told for over two thousand years.

She trembled as I carried her to the tub, her hair draped over my arm and her hands clinging weakly to my body. Dropping her into the water crossed my mind. She wouldn't be able to stop her fall.

But it would break her too much, too soon, and too badly for the games I wanted to play.

Lowering her beneath the surface, I closed my eyes in response to the painful cry that burst from her lips.

"Shhhhh," I reminded her. "It will all be over soon."

Tears streamed down her cheeks to mingle with the water, her body's quiver becoming still as the heat soothed the wounds.

"Is that better?" I whispered.

Her head nodded, the ends of her hair trailing in the water. Like dark silk, it floated on top, the pale tone of her skin blurred beneath the ripples. My gaze dragged across to where her collarbone broke the surface of the water, down farther to where the tight peak of her breast was just beneath, the soft rose color teasing me until I had to force myself to look away.

I couldn't fuck her after what I put her through. I couldn't use her body even more just to gratify mine. That would be cruelty beyond bounds, the hunger of a monster.



Or could I?

Did I really care if it hurt her or not?



Balancing an arm over the lip of the tub, I skimmed the tips of my fingers over the water. Eve's breathing was slow and rhythmic, a soothing sound against my ear as I dipped my fingers down beneath to trace them over the soft curve of her abdomen.

Her lips parted on a sigh, her chest arching up just enough to tell me she would accept the pain of my body against her wounds just to linger within the pleasure I could give her.

So perfectly trained.

"Do you still think about the man on the side of the road, my love? The man who saw the parts of you that should have only been for me? Who touched you when you belonged to a man of God?"

Eyes blinking open, she stared at me from beneath waterlogged lashes. My hand traveled lower over her body, my fingers brushing down between her legs, not to torment but to tease. Her breath rattled from her lungs.

"Yes. I've told you the story so many times. And you've punished me each time I've told it, but still, when I close my eyes, I see him touching himself, feel his eyes on my body while he-"

Her words cut off when my finger dipped inside her body to massage around the entrance, to tantalize the muscles into expanding for my intrusion.

I tsked my tongue against the roof of my mouth, smiled down at a living doll who was created to house my spirit. The girl she'd been before the week in my cabin was no longer staring out from behind green eyes, she was locked away and caged, a phantom that should have never existed.

A steady rhythm in and out, my hand worked to push her to that edge. Studying her the way a cat would watch a wounded bird, I noted every shiver across her skin, every flicker of her eyelashes, and the heavy breath pulsing across her lips. I watched as a faint pink blush colored her skin, listened as the soft moans of a woman seeking her seductive release crawled up her slender throat.

I'd give her what she sought, send her careening over that edge into ecstasy, but not without a price.

Leaning closer, I kept my lips a teasing distance from her ear. My free hand pressed to her forehead, I gave her only one warning. "Hold your breath."

Her eyes opened and rounded just as her head sank beneath the water, my palm pressed against her forehead as if I were baptizing her all over again.

Still working her body, I held her down, watched as small bubbles of air escaped her lips to float to the surface. She writhed beneath the touch, fought against being held in place, her terrified eyes still staring up at me despite the water between us.

"Don't be scared," I said softly, unsure whether she could hear me. "Just let go. Trust me, Eve. Turn your life over into my hands."

It was the undiluted panic that fascinated me, the sound of splashing water against the porcelain tub and tile floor, the way her body shifted and moved as she struggled against my hold. It was the knowledge that, despite her fear, a climax had burst through her body, the sound of it woven into her breath as it rose in large chaotic bubbles through the water.

When she stilled, when the light behind her eyes faded until I knew she was close to unconsciousness, I lifted her head above the surface of the water, my voice a soft hum against her weary senses.

She gasped for breath as I smiled.

"Always trust me, Eve. And I will be sure to take care of you."





JACOB


"You should get out more, Jacob. Do something besides sulk in your room. I thought you wanted to leave the priesthood. Why do you seem so bummed about it?"

Alan Ross stared across the small bar-top table at me as he traced his fingers over the condensation of his mug. Inside the glass, his beer had settled into a golden liquid, the white froth that topped it off all but gone now that he'd taken two large swallows.

I wrapped my hand around the shot glass of whiskey, my eyes glancing up at the bartender before I motioned her for one more. I drank the shot in one quick swallow. The burn down my throat reminded me of when Alan and I would hang out like this in college.

"I'm not sulking in my room," I answered.