The Prophet (The Cloister Trilogy 2)

I let the pain hit me again, the loss, the anger. “That was my father’s one kindness, letting me hold you as you drifted away, back to whatever sweet heaven you came from. I didn’t deserve you. And I failed you.” I press my hand to the grassy mound as the sun hides behind a cloud. “I’m sorry.”

I don’t cry. Not because I’m tough. When it comes to Faith, I’m not. But I save up all my pain, my loss, my anger, and I direct it into something so much darker. My vengeance is like a storm that forms slowly, the hot earth sending energy into the air as I boil and bubble and grow into a black anvil that will rain hell down on my enemies. My time is coming. “Our time, sweet angel. It’s almost here.”

Leaning down, I kiss the ground that’s covered my sleeping Faith for the past four years. I don’t have to tell her I love her. She’ll know when the Prophet’s blood covers my hands.

Chapter 9

Delilah

The door to my room bursts open, and the Spinner who’s been working on my makeup jumps and almost pokes me in the eye with a mascara wand.

“Out!” Adam’s bellow spurs the Spinner into action. She scurries out the door, and he slams it behind her.

“What are you—”

He bowls me over, pressing his mouth to mine with an insistence that scares me. His tongue lashes mine as he scoots me up on the bed, his elbow sending the Spinner’s makeup palette crashing to the floor.

I can smell the outside on him, feel the chill in the fibers of his clothes as they press against my naked body. He settles between my thighs and focuses on the complete domination of my mouth. My shock turns to something more liquid as he destroys me with each wicked stroke of his tongue.

He pulls away and bites my neck, and I gasp in air. Slipping a hand beneath me, he squeezes my ass hard enough to hurt, and pulls me against his thick erection. A shudder courses through me at the rough contact, and I tangle my fingers in his hair.

Working his way to my breasts, he nips at me, then takes my nipple into his mouth, sucking the stiff peak until I’m writhing beneath him. But he doesn’t stop grinding me against his cock, my body open and wanting despite everything. Adam has this power over me, and I’m not sure I mind anymore. I pull his hair, and he groans, switching to my other nipple and biting down.

I should stop him, ask him what’s going on, tell him to fuck off for turning me in to the Rectory. But none of that rises past my lips. Instead, “I need you,” falls out on a heavy breath.

“Fuck.” He kisses down my stomach, his warm breaths sending goosebumps racing across my skin.

He doesn’t wait, doesn’t tease, just dives in, his tongue stroking my entrance, then moving up to my clit. I jerk, but his hands come down on my hips, holding me in place as he feasts on me. I struggle and surge, chasing every ounce of pleasure he offers. He backs off for a moment, and I bite my lip. When he slaps my pussy, I jerk and pull his hair, but he’s already fastened his mouth to the burn caused by his rough palm, his tongue soothing the ache and infusing it with desire.

Another slap has me crying out, then he hits me again and again, my swollen clit throbbing with each pop from his fingers.

I look down and catch his gaze. The lust in his eyes almost shatters me, and when he hits me again, I feel my orgasm racing toward me, seizing every muscle and demanding every bit of energy. I gasp, and he presses his lips to my clit, sucking and biting down. Then he presses two fingers inside me, massaging the place he’s already marked as his.

I come on a silent scream, my breath caught in my throat, my thighs wide, my body frozen and then melting in a surge of heat. Wave after wave crashes down on me, drowning me in a bliss that I’ve only ever felt with Adam. He doesn’t stop licking, his fingers pumping as my walls clamp down around him. His groan vibrates through me, and I arch my back, wringing every last bit of pleasure from his mouth. When the waves lessen, I relax into the bed, my body sated and my mind adrift.

With a rough yank, he pulls me onto my stomach. I can’t protest. I’m boneless, weightless. His palms spread my cheeks, and when his tongue presses against my asshole, awareness races back to me.

“Adam—” I can barely get the word out. He slips his fingers into me again, massaging me with my own wetness. Then he pulls it to my ass, rubbing around my hole, then pressing one finger inside.