Instead, it was mind-blowingly hot.
I loved knowing the man we’d beaten was at our feet. I loved feeling like any future obstacle between us would meet the same fate.
My eager hands fumbled with Priest’s belt but couldn’t work it quickly enough for either of us. With a fierce growl, Priest tore his mouth from mine, finally faintly breathless. He stared hard at the sight of the blood on my skin, of his macabre tombstone tattooed hand on my throat.
“Fuck,” he cursed in a low, panty-melting growl. “Even blood looks good on you.”
“I need you,” I begged, beyond the point of shame. Every learned thing I’d once known about purity and sin forgotten in the firestorm of a lust only Priest could bring. “Please.”
His hand spasmed on my throat. I’d never seen eyes at once so pale a green and so dark, the iris ringed in black, the inside verdant as freshly watered grass. “I fuck you, I’m gonna fuck you hard. Need to mark you after that motherfucker tried to take what’s mine.”
“If I’m yours, you can take me any way you want,” I promised, arching into his tight grip on my neck, rubbing myself shamelessly on his thigh while I groped the iron pipe of his hard cock at the fly of his jeans. “And Priest? I might look like an innocent little girl, but my fantasies have always been dark, sinful, and rough.”
I gasped sharply as Priest flipped me around and bent me firmly over the basin. My hair hung in my face as I braced my forearms on the sink, spreading my thighs wide as he flipped up my skirt. There was the snick of his switchblade as he jerked it open, then the cold edge of the blade was pressed to the inside of my thigh. I watched Priest’s face in the mirror as he watched his knife cut through the fishnet, slicing a line from thigh to thigh between my legs, and then a muscle in his jaw leaping as he carefully slid the metal beneath the placket of my ruffle-edged panties. The fabric whispered open as it parted under the sharp edge where he drew it up the crease between my ass cheeks.
Cool air wafted over my fevered, wet flesh, drawing my attention to just how ready and throbbing I was for him. The ache of that morning was back like a blaring alarm, warning me I would combust without him inside me just as I would combust with him seated to the hilt.
His hand was rough with callouses against my cheek as he palmed it easily in one mighty hand, squeezing and massaging it roughly before giving it a little smack. When I only moaned and rocked back into him, he spanked me hard in sharp, staccato bursts of heat to each swell. Vaguely, I noticed the clang of his belt coming undone and the harsh rasp of a zipper undoing, but the beat of blood in my ears and that resonant smack of flesh consumed me.
“Holy God,” I gasped as I thrust back into him. “Oh, my God.”
“There’s no God in this house of worship,” Priest rasped, collecting my hair in his free hand to wrap it once, twice around his fist. He pulled me back by it like reins so I was staring at him in the mirror, back arched, ass tipped and exposed for him.
His grin was a dark, blood-red slice across his face. “Only the devil.”
And then the burning heat of his cock was at my entrance, thrusting inside my sensitive flesh so savagely, I belted out a ragged scream.
“Better than fuckin’ heaven and earth,” Priest ground out in that gravelly Irish voice as he pounded me into the sink, palming one ass cheek open slightly so he could watch his cock slide in and out of me. “Such a tight little pussy stretched around my cock.”
I whimpered, heat gathering at every sensual point of my body—in the furl of my nipples and the swollen weight of my breasts, at the backs of my knees, and in pulse at my throat. I’d never felt anything like this tight, hot twining between my legs.
Only the sun had ever kissed me there, the sun and the air and the cool touch of water. For nineteen years, nature had been my only lover, a shy thing, tentative and teasing. Priest was none of those things. He was anti-matter, sucking me up ruthlessly and refusing to spit me out, eating away at my edges until I was all core, all sensation. Heat and energy coiled up like a new planet blazing beside his black, fathomless depths.
This was better, this devastating intensity that razed me to the very ground of my soul. It was better than any poetry, better than any daydreams. It was too visceral to put into words, so I did not try.