The Church (The Cloister Trilogy 3)

“I don’t get that here.” I move my hips slowly, stroking him through his pants. “All I get is pain.”

He moves his hands around to my sore ass. “I’ll give you plenty of that, but I’ll throw in some pleasure. Though I’m not sure if you’ll be a good girl for me. Only good girls get to come.”

“I’ll fight.” I run my hands up my stomach and cup my breasts. “But I can’t win, can I?”

“No.” His voice lowers, his eyes locked with mine. “You’ll never win.” Kneading my ass, he leans forward and bites my nipple through the fabric of my dress and robe.

It hurts. He bites too hard. I whimper just the way he wants.

“But I can’t go yet.” I move back, but he yanks me back to his erection again.

“Not yet?” He glares, his eyes somehow darker. “Why not?”

Have I played him too hard? I want him on my side, want him desperate for me. But I can’t leave yet. I need to back this up some. “There are a few more lessons on how to please you. I want to make sure I understand your needs.”

“I don’t think so.” He pushes my dress up, then rubs his palms along the bare skin of my thighs. “You need to come with me now.”

“No.” I shake my head.

He slaps my ass. “There she is. Buttering me up one second, defying me the next.”

The sting almost draws tears to my eyes, my skin still recovering from the Prophet’s belt. “I can’t leave yet. I’m not ready.” God, I’ve botched this.

“You’re ready when I say you are.” He pulls me against him until we’re nose to nose. “And I say you’re ready right now.”

“Now, Evan.” The Prophet walks in, his hands behind his back and slight chiding expression on his face. “You can’t go too far with her.”

Evan grabs my chin and wrenches my face around to the Prophet. “I told you I didn’t want any marks on her. Look at this. Care to explain?”

He sits on the sofa across from us. “Accidents happen. Especially when a Maiden is clumsy or rude.” His withering stare doesn’t affect me. Not anymore.

“I want her now.” Evan pulls my dress down, making sure my ass is covered.

I suppose he doesn’t want his property on display just yet.

“Now?” The Prophet shakes his head. “She isn’t ready.”

“I say she is. She wants to come with me.”

“Is that true, Delilah?” The Prophet asks.

“Yes, but I—”

“Well, then we can make a deal. But I’m afraid given her damaged nature, I’ll need you to wed her before you bed her. A little insurance policy. I’m sure you understand. I can’t have you using her up and then dumping her out of spite.”

“I’ll keep my word.” Evan sits me beside him, his icy eyes locked on the Prophet. “I hope you aren’t suggesting otherwise.”

“Of course not.” The Prophet adopts a placid expression. “I think I have a solution that should make us all happy. How about we have a brief ceremony at this Sunday’s service, make it official, and then you can take her and be on your way. Plan a big to-do later, once you’ve gotten her broken in.”

Evan’s fingers wrap around my upper arm, pressing hard enough to leave bruises. “I’d rather have her today.”

“I’m afraid you can’t.” Though he wraps his tone in silk, there’s metal underneath. “But Sunday would be the perfect time.”

Evan turns to me. “Can you wait that long, darling?”

I nod, hiding my relief in an obedient, downward gaze. “Yes.”

“Well, I guess that’ll have to do.” He sighs. “Though I fucking hate to wait.”

“It’s for the best. You’ll see.” The Prophet stands. “I’ve got the paperwork in my office. Shall we?”

“Give me a minute with her.”

The Prophet’s eyes narrow, clearly not liking the command in Evan’s voice, but he walks away all the same. “Of course.”

Evan slides his arm behind my back and pushes me down onto the couch. Fear coats every thought in my mind with an oily haze, but I have to keep it together. He presses his body onto mine, his unforgiving muscles and hard cock promising me that he’ll always be bigger, stronger, faster.

“God, the things I’m going to do to you, darling.” He runs his teeth along the line of my jaw. “You’ll hate me so much.” He clenches his arm behind me, squeezing the air from my lungs before letting up and kissing my neck.

“Are you—” The question gets stuck in my throat.

“What?” He pulls back and stares down into my eyes, the monster barely restrained.

“Are you really going to share me?”

He smiles, as if he thrives on my fear. And maybe he does. “Does that upset you?”

“I saw the video. I saw what you like to… do.”

“I like to watch, to film, to savor it frame by frame. And then I like to fuck.” He presses his lips to my ear. “Worried?”