by Lily White
I wouldn't mark her, wouldn't squeeze too tight with my fingers or bite down until it bruised. I just wanted to be inside her. I wanted her to wake up knowing I was the one who controlled her sin now, the one who held the power to cleanse it with pain’s fire.
There was no doubt in my mind that the sin Eve believed she carried wasn't sin at all, it was just a craving she had for a sensation that drove adrenaline and endorphins through her body.
Pain is an ugly fact of life for most people, but for some, it is the only thing that makes them feel alive.
Eve moaned as I slowly pushed deeper inside, her hips moving in coordination with mine, even though her eyes were still closed. A smile pulled at her lips, and I knew she was with me at that moment, that she'd come to consciousness with the feeling of being connected to me in the most intimate of ways.
I rode that high for only a second before the truth slapped me in the face: She wasn't connected to me, she was connected to the man whose name was a prayer on her lips.
"Elijah," she breathed out, the reverence in her voice forcing my eyes closed. It was the sound of an answered prayer, the utter relief a person felt when they witnessed the divine for the first time. His name on her lips was the sound of a woman who didn't have to fight any longer simply because her lover - her reason for living - was close by.
His name.
Not mine.
The truth of it shredded me from the inside out.
And, yet, there I was, fucking her, taking every last bit of our combined pleasure and devouring it like I had every right to it.
I wondered if the day would come where she not only realized I wasn't my brother, but would also forgive me for taking advantage when she believed I was someone else.
I was taking what wasn't freely given to me, and I didn't give a damn about the consequences.
Slipping my hand down to massage her clit, I woke her fully. Her body pushed back against me wanting more - begging for it. Lifting her just a bit higher, I gave her what she asked for and watched as her fingers curled over the sheets beneath her, as her eyes flickered open and her lips parted on a sensual moan that drove my hips even faster.
Desperation overtook me, the need to know what she was feeling and thinking. Possessing her body would never be enough. I wanted every part of her - body, mind and soul. Anything less would never satisfy the greed I felt for her, would never subdue the sadist in me that wanted nothing more than to corner his prey.
Leaning over her, I wrapped my fingers around her neck, careful not to squeeze down on the bruises already blooming over her skin. Lifting her upper body from the bed, my chest was flat to her back, my mouth pressed teasingly against her ear. Eve's entire body went still, my cock still moving inside her.
No matter what I wanted to do, she would never resist.
"What are you thinking?" I whispered, my tone placid and tranquil to seduce the enthralled.
Soft moans crawled up the back of her throat. I pulled out of her until just the head remained inside, her hips pushing back, sounds of complaint floating sweetly across her lips.
A smile stretched my cheeks. "Not until you tell me, Eve." My voice lowered to a whisper, "Confess."
My hips moved just a bit, pushing in and pulling out. She whined for more. My fingers gripped over her throat just a touch tighter, my teeth bit down on the lobe of her ear. The breath rushed from her lungs.
"I need more," she whispered, "a - always need more. Pain cleanses sin."
My eyes closed in response to words spoken by the voice of an angel.
She was so screwed up in the head - so perfectly shaped and trained. I wasn't blind to that fact. I just didn't respect it. Which made me even more screwed up than her.
Pushing my hips forward, I slowly filled her, my finger exploring her clit. "Like that?"
She shook her head against the pillow. "More."
My brows drew together as my hand moved over her hip, my finger tracing the crack of her ass before stopping over the hole.
"There," she murmured, pure anticipation in her tone.
Breath rushed from my lungs. I vacillated for only a second, weighed the pleasure of the act versus how wrong it would be to take every part of her when she wasn't technically mine.
The potential for pleasure won the argument.
Slipping my cock from the wet heat between her legs I trailed up, finding and pressing against her ass. She moaned, the anticipation filtering through her as a full body shiver. Somehow, just that shiver made me impossibly harder than I'd been before.
I pushed the head in and her body went rigid, her fingers curling into the sheets until the bones beneath the skin of her hands were visible lines of tension. Using the slickness between her legs as lubrication, I did my best to prevent pain, but she reached back to grab my hand and pull it away.
My brows pulled together in question, her head turning just enough for her eyes to lock with mine with one clear message behind them: She wanted it to hurt.
In truth, so did I.
My hips thrust forward, pushing me in inch by inch as her mouth opened, her brow wrinkled and her fingers looked like they would shred the sheets trapped between them.
I didn't care how uncomfortable it was for her, not when it felt so fucking good on my end. She was almost too tight - almost.
The cry of pain that flew from her lips was the most seductive of music, the way her body constricted around me only to relax again was the fuel to my fire. Gripping my hands over her hips, my head fell forward until my chin touched my chest, my eyes closing as I thrust my hips burying myself completely.
I learned one of life's truths at that exact moment: Heaven wasn't a place above our heads beyond Earth and space, Heaven was located right here inside Eve's body.
It was becoming obvious that I wouldn’t last long. My balls tightened with each stroke inside her. I was pushed closer and closer to climax.
The tip of my finger met her clit, and with two more strokes she came, her body becoming painfully tight, trembling as the sweetest music fell from her lips. My climax followed seconds after.
Waiting until I was soft, I stayed seated inside, my breath heavy and my forehead pressed to her upper back.
Several minutes passed before I could think clearly again.
Finally lifting my head, I spoke on a husky voice. "We both need a bath and you need to eat breakfast."
Pulling free, I playfully slapped her ass to get her moving. My brows shot up to see her hips push back instinctively, begging for more.
Dear God, what kind of devil have you sent me?
I wasn't sure I would survive if I gave her everything she wanted.
The bed shifted as I moved away. Eve grumbling in response to being pulled from the mattress.
Picking her up, I carried her to the shower.
It didn't take long to get us cleaned and fed. By the time I was stepping out of my bedroom and walking the hall toward the sanctuary door, I had a guilt-free smile stretching my lips while I fastened my clerical collar.
ELIJAH
To live is to suffer. To survive is to find some meaning in the suffering. - Friedrich Nietzsche
Eunice hadn't removed her veil by the time I walked into the women's dorm. Seated on a bench seat, surrounded by women tending to her wounds and offering her food and water, she wore one of the long navy blue dresses the female family members preferred.
As soon as I stepped foot in the room, Eunice's eyes darted to my face, the tension of fear weighing on her shoulders. Fight or flight was the alarm behind her stare, her instincts telling her to run as quickly as possible while her intellect told her to stay in place - to submit to the predator that was more powerful than her.
It was always the initial focused gaze - the terror and indecision to be found there - that forced my blood to pump harder.
I stopped within feet of her. "Are you ready?"
It was a struggle for her to strip her gaze from mine, but she eventually tore her focus
from me to look at the women sitting to her left and right.
As if impeaching them for help, her expression fell when they all moved back, smiles adorning their faces because they knew what I offered this woman was a gift. They all offered the same gift to me when they had an opportunity, but I wasn't interested in those already besotted; I wanted the ones that were harder to pin down.
The last woman to whom it had been offered was still fulfilling her purpose, still demonstrating that she had not only seen God's power, but wanted a part of it for herself.
Without offered help, Eunice turned her eyes back to mine. Her throat worked to swallow the fear she felt. "For?" she asked on a shaky breath.
My smile didn't calm her. "We should take a walk and discuss your new life here amongst the family. I'm sure you'll appreciate what we have to offer once you understand that we are God's people."
Indecision wrinkled her brow. "A walk where?"
Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, to drag her from her seat for questioning me, I rolled my shoulders back instead. Why do people always have to ask so many questions? Why can't they simply trust that God knows what's best?
"Come, Eunice," I said, extending my hand to grab her and help her from her seat. "Enough with questions. It's time to prove your faith."
Her grip of my hand was hesitant at best, a tremor running through her delicate bones as I led her from the dorm into a large hallway. An exterior door stood at the end of the hall, thick metal once painted black, but now a sad grey with scrapes and dings from years of neglect and use. Once opened, the yard spread out before us, a chain link fence in the distance with one lonely tall gate.
Placing my hand on her shoulder, I didn't miss how she jumped in place. The poor girl's nerves were fried, but it didn't matter. When she learned the path God had chosen for her in this life, her nerves would be eased by her devotion.
"Beyond that gate is your salvation," I told her, my voice low and soothing, my hand strong where it still held her. "Are you ready for it?"
The wilting of her shoulders, the subtle downturn to the corners of her lips, the slight trembling of her arms told me she wasn't ready - would never be ready. But that made no difference to me. Every person had a purpose. Every person had a use. And every step they provided me toward what I ultimately wanted made them precious for as long as their purpose had yet to be fulfilled.
Even young Eunice.
The dogs couldn't have had better timing. Their angry growls and harsh barking echoed across the property grounds. But it was the high-pitched, agonized scream that emanated above their voices that caught Eunice's attention.
The older whore didn't last long against their sharp teeth and starved stomachs. Within minutes they could be heard being let loose on the property, approaching where we stood at full speed.
A smile stretched my lips. Leaning toward her, I brushed my lips along her jaw, sliding my warmth ever so slowly along her skin until my mouth met her ear.
"I would run if I were you. I can't be sure, but the dogs still sound hungry."
She pinned me in her wide-eyed stare, the sound of the dogs creeping ever closer while she made her decision. Would she face the woods as the sun set in the distance? Or would she face the bigger threat that approached on angry, fast paws?
Her head spun to look between both threats, and the woods won. It was too bad she didn't know the dogs would never have actually reached us. There were gates that remained closed that would have prevented them from leaving their portion of the yard.
Giving her a few minutes head start, I closed the gate behind me as I stepped into the shadow of the woods, my lips puckering on a soft whistle as I slipped through the trees on a casual stride, knowing well that I'd catch my prey regardless of how fast she could run.
JACOB
For the wages of sin is death… Romans 6:23
I spent a few hours in my office after leaving the rectory. Grateful for the quiet morning that led into a quiet afternoon, I spent my time speaking to the Diocese regarding issues affecting my town. As usual, their offer of assistance was paltry at best. Nobody cared about a town that had little to offer in tithes - a town that had been all but forgotten by the larger cities that sat hundreds of miles from its borders.
Praying had never done much good. Although, I wasn't sure I could blame God on that fact. Maybe it wasn't His fault for not listening. Perhaps it was mine for never having been very good at praying loud enough to be heard.
On that thought, I sat the pen I'd flipped through my fingers for over an hour onto the surface of the desk, my heart pained by the people who had next to nothing, but still had the decency to attend God's service dressed in their finest. To the resilient, having barely enough to survive was still a blessing to appreciate without question.
I couldn't help my anger on their behalf. They were members of a Church that could afford to help them all, but chose not to. Even then, and even though they were only scraping by, the people of the town gave what they could to the parish whenever they heard God's calling.
With that thought in mind, I darted a glance to the clock. Confessional hours started in less than three minutes and I had one hour reserved for the dark, foreboding box, and one for the reconciliation room.
Often, I sat alone in both, left to the company of my innermost thoughts, but I would still wait in case a parishioner was in need. Slipping out from behind my desk, I walked from my office to the sanctuary, my eyes widening to find Eve sitting in a front pew, her gaze turned up toward the stained glass windows designed with images of a cross and a dove.
Jewel tones bathed her face from the light pouring in from the windows, the dance of color across her skin almost as beautiful as the marks she wore from me.
Dressed in one of my plain t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants that were practically swallowing her small body, she sat in reverence and deep contemplation. I hated to disturb her, but I feared someone would walk in and find her.
In a larger parish, her presence wouldn't have been questioned, but everybody knew everybody in this town and a strange face was an oddity not easily ignored.
Laying my hand on her shoulder, I spoke softly. "Eve, I need you to return to the rectory."
She opened her eyes, tears shimmering within the soft green. "Will we ever go home, Elijah?"
The question caught me off guard - the name she used still driving a spike of anger and jealousy through the most sensitive parts of me. I should have corrected her, should have taken the time to explain a fact her battered mind would find impossible to comprehend, but I was too afraid of losing what I'd found in a woman who awakened me in ways I hadn't known in over twelve long years.
"We are home," I answered, sliding onto the bench beside her. "This is your new home."
I wasn't sure how I would continue to hide her, but I wasn't thinking clearly when it came to her. Even now, while bathed in the jewel toned light of the sun shining through the large windows, my body responded to this woman in ways unfitting for a priest.
Beyond that, my mind picked up on her submission to my will, on the manner in which she'd been warped and manipulated to be the perfect meal for a man with an appetite such as mine.
Silence fell between us, a heavy blanket stuffed with all the horrors of the past few days, by the question of right versus wrong, and by the uncertainty of my brother's purpose for everything he'd done and still planned to do.
"You're like two different people," she whispered, her sudden words catching me off guard for how observant they were. I would have explored further, pushed her to explain, but the large entrance door at our backs creaked open and stole away the time to question her.
Glancing back, I noticed the long red hair spilling down Annabelle's shoulders, the distraught look on her face as she darted a glance in my direction before making her way to the confessional. Knowing I was not inside, she still opened the door and climbed in, a silent plea to confess whatever evils she believed existed in her head.
> "Eve," I whispered, hoping with everything I had that Annabelle hadn't noticed the strange face of the woman sitting next to me. "I need you to go back to the rectory for a few hours."
"Please," I added when she didn't immediately respond.
Rather than speaking, she simply nodded her head and cast me a strange look before pushing up to her feet. I waited until she was down the hall leading to the rectory door before turning my attention to the confessional.
Sucking in a deep breath, I realized there wasn't enough oxygen in the room to ease the panic I felt for what Annabelle would say. But I was a priest, regardless of the choices I'd made in the past few days, and I had a calling to help all of my parishioners no matter how uncomfortable is was for me.
With heavy steps, I walked to the confessional, opened the door and climbed inside the dark box that felt more like a coffin today than it ever had before. Sitting in the seat, I rested my head against the wall at my back and opened the small door that closed off the screen between the two compartments.
As soon as it was opened, I heard her small voice. "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been three days since my last confession and I accuse myself of the following sins."
I wanted to skip the formality, wanted to bypass having to listen to whatever it was she had to say, but this was my cross to bear as much as hers. Although I hadn't been the one to use her body and cast her aside, in her mind, I was. I would take the weight if it helped ease the burden from her shoulders.
It was at least a minute that I listened to her breathing. "What do you wish to confess?" I finally asked.
Soft sobs echoed from the other side of the screen, her voice broken as she listed out her transgressions.
"I had sex with a man who was not my husband. It wasn't adultery, but fornication. Even though I know it's wrong, I have the desire to do it again."
My eyes closed as my hands slid over my thighs to grip down. We both knew what she believed she did with me, and I couldn't continue the formality any longer. "Annabelle, what happened can never happen again."