The Church (The Cloister Trilogy 3)

“Just do as you’re told, Maiden.” His tone turns gruff and he steps into the en suite bathroom, then closes the door.

I swallow hard, my hands shaking as I reach for the hem of my dress. Maybe I’m wrong about Noah. Why else would he have me brought here? He’s going to hurt me, use me. Trusting him was a mistake.

I pull my dress off and lay it across the foot of the bed. My heartbeat pulses in my temples as I crawl between the cool sheets and pull them up to my chin. They smell like him, but also like some sort of detergent. I itch to flip on the lamp beside me so I can see what’s coming. But that might be a bad idea. Maybe it’s better if I don’t know. I remember the lamb at the Winter Solstice, the way it looked around with guileless eyes, completely unaware of its fate. Would it be better to be ignorant?

The bathroom door opens, and I clench the sheet. I’m shaking, my body in open revolt as Noah crawls into bed beside me.

“Noah, please don’t do—”

“Shh.” A cool hand rests on my shoulder, and I turn to look at him.

I blink. He slaps a hand over my mouth. “Not a word.” His voice is quiet, a low rumble, the hoodie keeping his face in shadow.

Tears obscure my view, and I kiss the bandaged palm. Adam.

He pulls his hand away and moves closer, wrapping his arms around me as I turn to him and bury my face in his neck. I hold him, squeezing so hard that I don’t know if he can breathe. My soul stitches back together, enmeshed with his as he strokes down my back.

“Shh, little lamb. My Emily.”

I try not to sob, but I can’t hold it back. Relief unlocks a pool of emotion inside of me, and I entwine my legs with his, melding our bodies together to convince myself that it’s him, that he’s really here.

He continues to soothe me, his voice in my ear, his hands moving along my bare skin.

When I’m finally able to speak, I whisper, “Your hands.”

“They’ll be fine.” He kisses my forehead, then drops kisses all down my cheeks. His hoodie covers most of his hair, hiding him from the camera.

“I was so scared.”

“I know.” His lips move to my neck, tracing a trail of fire.

Cold worry skitters across my mind. “Is this safe? Can you be here?”

“I don’t care.” He moves back to my face and claims me in a kiss that obliterates every thought from my head. His taste, his hands, his everything. I’ve been starving for it. And though I knew I needed him on some level, I didn’t realize how badly.

His tongue sweeps across mine, and he moves on top of me, his hips between my legs as I open for him. He kisses me like he’d die without it, and I return it with just as much passion. Messy and seeking, we share pieces of our souls, and I want to give him everything. There’s so much I need to say. I have to confess about Georgia, tell him who she was, tell him who I am. I have to tell him what seeing him on the cross did to me, the deep scar it left on my heart. But all I can do is kiss him.

I whimper when he thrusts, his hard cock pressing against me in the most delicious way, only his jeans separating us. “I want you,” I breathe when he breaks the kiss and moves to my neck, kissing and biting.

“We can’t.” He moves lower and captures a nipple in his mouth, lashing the tip with his tongue as he kneads my other breast.

Each touch sends a jolt of heat spiraling between my thighs, and desire, thicker than honey, pours over me. “Please.” I dig my hands in his hair, squeezing the strands as he kisses lower. “I want to taste you.”

He groans against my stomach, then rolls over onto his back, pulling me with him. “Sit on my face.” With rough hands, he positions me until I’m straddling him, my knees on either side of his shoulders, my face even with his waist. When he licks, I jolt. I want to say his name, but nothing passes my lips except a hard exhale. His tongue comes again, and I burn with need. Scrabbling at his jeans, I free his cock and lick the tip, the wetness salty on my tongue.

I take him as far into my mouth as I can, eager to please and be pleased. When he presses his mouth to me and pulls me down onto his face, I moan around his thick cock, then suck his head. He doesn’t let up, his fingertips pressing into my hips, forcing me to sit right on top of him as his mouth takes over.