“I’m sorry, Micah.” I sigh, extracting his fingers from my arm one by one. “I feel very tired, but I’ll see you in the morning.”
I make yet another mistake when I look at him—and what stares back at me makes my chest tighten. His eyes are bloodshot, and there are tears in them, but he looks away from me as they spill over. I almost reach out to wipe them off but decide against it. I don’t want to make this worse.
“Sure.”
I nod slowly, then get up and walk away.
Pushing open my bedroom door, I close it behind me and set my belongings on the desk. I begin to pace, burying my handsin my hair and yanking at the strands until my scalp stings. I feel like I need the pain to ground me, and even the one in my stomach isn’t enough anymore. My exhale is shaky as I grab my rosary from the desk and set it on the bed. I take off my jeans but keep my underwear and shirt on, then kneel on the mattress. I face the wall above my headboard, reciting prayers and closing my eyes, and eventually, I press my forehead to the pillow and stay on my knees. With my rosary gripped in my fist, I let the tears run down my cheeks.
I’m not sure how long I stay this way, but I hear my lock click and snap out of my daze. I squeeze my eyes tighter, not daring to look, even though I know exactly who just walked in. My fist tightens, the beads of the rosary digging into my palm painfully, and I wince. It just reminds me of the reason I’m praying. For being a liar. I suppose I could always ignore the instructions Father Jacob gave me, but then who would I be if I did that? I’ve already messed up beyond belief.
“Is my pretty little liar begging for forgiveness?” Azriel’s voice breaks through my thoughts, making me clench my pillow between my fingers.
I whimper, not daring to move as my tears soak the pillow. I can barely breathe through my nose from how much I’ve been crying, but I won’t be moving from this position. I refuse to.
“Elijah, I’m talking to you.” He warns, “I don’t like being ignored.”
“Go away, Azriel,” I tell him, voice muffled by my pillow. I shift my face to the side so he can hear me better, when I see that he’s climbing into bed and kneeling behind me. I stiffen. “Please.”
He doesn’t reply. Instead, he grabs me by my hair and yanks me up until I’m on my knees, his front flush with my back. His cock is nestled between my ass cheeks, hard as a steel rod. Mynostrils flare when his free hand wraps around my throat, and I begin to shake when his lips press against the shell of my ear.
“You want to know what I think?” he asks softly, and I shake my head. I don’t want to know. I want him to leave me be. I need a night to myself. I think he’s done enough damage for a lifetime. “I think if these tears are for your God, I’m going to be really pissed off.”
Azriel’s fingers tighten around my throat until I can’t take in a breath, then release slightly. His fingers are still clutching the strands of my hair painfully, and I exhale a shaky breath as he grinds his cock against me.
“Go away,” I demand, but my voice trembles, and if I’m being honest with myself, I don’t really want him to. I want him to fight for me, but I’d never admit to it. Because at the same time, I feel like I need to fight for myself. For what’s best for me. I need to fight for my faith. “I demand it.”
“You demand it?” Azriel chuckles, and a shiver runs down my spine. “Let me make something clear to you, Elijah.” His grip tightens on my hair until more tears spill from my eyes, and the hand around my throat shifts to the middle of my back. He shoves me down once more, pushing my face into the pillow. I’m on my knees now, back arched, ass in perfect alignment with his cock. Open for him. Pliant but not. “You only kneel forme.”
“That’s absurd, and you know it,” I say, trying to buck him off.
“Stop fighting me,” he growls. “It just makes me want to turn you inside out even more.”
“You’re not doing anything to me,” I grit out.
“No?” Azriel tuts, letting go of me abruptly. I immediately miss the heat of his body against me and almost whimper at the loss of him. That is, until his fingers dig into my hips, tugging my underwear over my ass and down my thighs. “I think you’d do just about anything to have me in that tight little ass.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Why, Little Lamb?” he mocks. “Afraid your God will find out? I bet he already knows.”
“Shut up,” I growl, and I don’t think I’ve ever been this angry in my life. “Shut. Up.”
A sudden sting has me bucking forward, away from him. He justspankedme. I groan, my balls tightening and my cock filling quickly with blood. Just when I think he’s done, two more swats land on my ass in rapid succession. I whimper, shaking my head, about to protest when I feel his breath against my hole. I clench, scared yet exhilarated all the same. I want him there, and he knows it. He knows how to play me like an instrument.
I’ve never stood a chance against him.
“This pretty ass belongs to me,” he whispers, kissing my cheek slowly, dragging his tongue over my skin until he’s close to my crease. “Youbelong to me.”
“Azriel.”
“Beg me, Eli,” Az chokes out, his voice hoarse. “Beg me to fill your ass. Beg me to ruin you.”
“You’ve already ruined me,” I whisper.
“You’re going to worship me,” he says through gritted teeth, and I can hear the anger in his voice as he tilts my hips further up. “You’re going to beg for anything I want to give you, and you’re going to do it from your fucking knees, Elijah, or lying to your priest will be the least of your worries.”
I tremble. “You know?”
