Ruth swallowed hard and followed him outside, placing her trust in his smooth palm. He led her to a wooden table draped with a blue cloth and bearing several trays covered with cloches.
A large fire burned in a metal stand, warming the brisk air. Despite her thin dress, she didn’t feel the cold. Not like she had when she’d been marched naked down the city streets.
Everything seemed so strange here. Even the winter chill seemed to avoid this place. It was called Purgatory, but why wasn’t she being purged of sin? Everything seemed designed to give physical comfort, so different than what she’d expected.
Reverend Gabriel pulled out a cushioned chair and waited expectantly. His face showing the barest glimmer of impatience, he gestured to the seat and said, “Have a seat, Ruth.”
Nearly tripping over her slippers, she hurried to obey, and was shocked beyond measure when he pushed the chair to the table. Seating himself across from her, he said, “That was a courtesy that men used to give women before the wars. Quite gallant of them, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, sir,” she said, then shook her head. “I don’t understand this place. Why am I not doing penance for my sin? Is it warm because we’re close to Hell?”
A faint smile stole over his face and he lifted the lid from one of the trays. Steam, a mouthwatering concoction of meat and fresh vegetables, rose from the tray, and she gazed down at a roast chicken, brown and crispy and glistening with moisture. Using a knife and fork, he cut into the breast and served her several slices, followed by a large spoonful of vegetables.
“It’s warm because the trees protect us from the wind. If you listen, you can hear it.” He served himself and added, “As to the rest of your questions, we’ll get to them after lunch.”
“Yes, sir.” Glancing at him from under her lashes, she bowed her head and waited for him to say the blessing.
Yet he started eating without saying words of thanks for the food. Realizing he must again be trying to lead her into sin, she said her own.
“Lord, bless this food and let it nourish our bodies so that we might better serve you. Bless Reverend Gabriel and his house. Amen.”
Reaching over, Reverend Gabriel touched her hand. “Faith is a miraculous thing,” he said softly. “It can cure sickness and give comfort in times of greatest despair. Hold fast to your faith, Ruth Tyler, but don’t follow blindly.”
Those words, so similar to what the Disciplinarian had told her, made her drop her fork and scramble to retrieve it. “I don’t understand any of this,” she replied miserably. “Nothing makes sense.”
“Eat your lunch, little one,” he replied, stabbing a carrot with his fork. “Understanding will come with enlightenment, though you might wish you’d remained ignorant.”
Chapter 7
To the unmarried and the widows I say that it is good for them to remain single, as I am. But if they cannot exercise self-control, they should marry. For it is better to marry than to burn with passion.
1 Corinthians 7:8-9
After lunch, he led her through the house, pointing out the industrial kitchen, lavish guest suites, and a massive library choked with books.
“Your house is very large,” she said. “Do other people live here?”
“This place is less a house than a resort,” Reverend Gabriel replied, wrapping her hand around his arm as they walked. “I host gatherings here, parties, if you will.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
He looked down at her and smiled, though his eyes were remote and cold. “Purgatory is a house of pleasure, Ruth, and I believe you will serve me very well in that endeavor.”
The blood iced in her veins and she stumbled as things fell into place. The carvings on the walls, Salome’s painted face. The dress she wore, and the medical attention she’d received. The multiple whip cuts on her back would scar, but they wouldn’t grow infected. They didn’t even hurt, and it was almost as if they weren’t there at all. Of course, she might have been asleep long enough for them to heal. She hadn’t even thought to ask, but she supposed it didn’t matter.
If she was to whore as her penance, they’d want her to be presentable. The rich food she’d eaten tumbled in her belly and she thought she might be sick.
Ruth swallowed hard in an attempt to keep her lunch where it belonged. “Sir, I’m yet pure. I don’t think I can do what you ask.”
She almost protested that she’d never find a husband if she fell from grace and became a whore, but it was already too late for that.
“Not to worry, dear. I’ll teach you everything you need to know.”
She bit her lip, trying to hold back the tears welling in her eyes as she nodded dully. “Yes, sir.”
Reverend Gabriel stopped at an ornately carved wood door and turned her to face him. Touching her chin with a gentle finger, he made her look at him. “Come now, love. It won’t be so bad, and you might even find it enjoyable.”
His eyes hardened and he pinched her chin. “But enjoyable or not, you will do as you’re told. It is my will, and so the Lord’s will that you serve your penance in this fashion.” His fingers bit into her jaw, digging cruelly. “Do you understand?”
His eyes flashed red for a single instant, making her catch her breath. For a moment, his eyes looked like the light of the righteous, the guiding illumination positioned on the top of televisions in every Leviticus City residence.
“Yes, Reverend Gabriel. I understand.”
He released her jaw, letting his fingers trail down her throat to tease at the edge of her bodice. “That’s my good girl,” he whispered. Reaching around her, he opened the door and led her inside.
It was a massive bedroom, plush and opulently furnished. Rich bronze paint warmed the space. Her feet sank into deep burgundy carpet as she stepped carefully past the door.
A large window looked out over the forest, uncovered by drapes. Anyone could see inside, but she doubted that would be a problem. The house was too remote.
Although she’d often wished her neighbors were quieter, she had no idea how much she’d miss the noise of humanity until it was gone. The thought made her feel more alone than ever.
A fire burnt in a stone fireplace across the room from the window, the blaze chasing the lingering chill from her bones. Chairs and a wide couch surrounded the hearth in a cozy nook.
The bed was big enough for a family to share, wide and tall with a thick mattress and several plump pillows. The sheets were turned down, white and inviting under a deep brown blanket. It had thick posts in all four corners, carved with leaves and flowers.
Most shocking was the deep bathtub set in front of the window. Easily big enough for two, it was already filled. An unfamiliar scent wafted from the steaming water, sweet, yet thick and musky.
Reverend Gabriel moved behind her. Willing back her tears, she stood still as he took her shawl and dropped it to the floor. His hands were warm but insistent as he pushed the straps of her dress down her arms, allowing the red fabric to fall in a puddle at her feet.
He turned her to face him and knelt to remove her slippers. Stroking her thighs, his thumbs coming dangerously close to her sin cavern, he said, “You’re so lovely, Ruth, and your scent of sweet virginity is glorious.”
Leaning forward, he kissed her mound, his tongue curling around the bit of metal set into her flesh. She’d thought his fingers on that spot had been overwhelming, but it was nothing compared to his tongue. Wet, pulsing hard, and seeking, it stalled her breath until she remembered who and what she was.
Slamming her thighs together, she covered herself. Yet when she tried to step backward, he growled.
The sound was feral, wild and threatening, and when she looked down, she saw a beast instead of a man. His lips pulled back in a snarl, he bared his teeth at her and his eyes flashed red.
It wasn’t her imagination. His eyes were the light of the righteous, but alive with hunger.
“Come. Here,” he ordered, the words barely intelligible.
&
nbsp; This is was her penance. She would have congress with a demon, for that was what Reverend Gabriel surely was. No human had red eyes, or teeth that grew points.
Or claws that tore at the thick carpet.
Whimpering softly, she took a step forward, her limbs quaking with fear. Yet when she reached him, he didn’t devour her with those wicked teeth. Instead, he pushed his face into her center, inhaling once before letting out a low, rumbling sound from deep in his throat.
His breath hot on her skin, he tasted her, licking the denuded flesh of her sin cavern as if she was his favorite meal. He moved his hands to her bottom, squeezing gently as he pulled her to him. He grunted his enjoyment as he suckled the piercing into his mouth.
Ruth’s belly whirled, the pleasure overwhelming as he feasted.
“Lord preserve me!” she gasped, unable to get enough air to ask him to stop.
Gabriel chuckled against her, the vibration making her shudder. “The Lord has no place here, little virgin. There is only pleasure, mine to give and mine to take.”
Fluid, slick and sticky, leaked from her sin cavern, a mark of her wantonness. She wanted to climb in the bath and let the water wash her shame away, but knew Gabriel wouldn’t permit it.
He rose to his feet and tore at his robes, rending the fabric into shreds that fell from gnarled hands. It took every ounce of courage she possessed to stand still while he revealed his naked body.
His brown hair hung to his shoulders in thick waves. Muscles corded and swelled, bulging and rippling as he moved. She’d never seen a man without the armor of clothes before.
His cock was thick and veined, the long shaft bobbing toward her like a divining rod. Clear liquid dripped from the tip, falling to the carpet in a steady stream. She blinked as fear filled her belly. That thing between his legs would tear her apart.
Yet babies fit, didn’t they? He wasn’t as large as a newborn.
Reaching out, she traced the slabs of muscle on his belly, the ridged lines twitching as she touched him.
The involuntary shudder surprised a giggle out of her and she slapped a hand over her mouth, mortified and afraid he’d take offense. “I… I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Your laugh is like bells,” he said. “I like it.” Without a word, he swung her into his arms and carried her to the bed. Setting her down on the edge of the mattress, he pushed her shoulders backwards and dropped to his knees.
Wedging himself between her thighs, he spread her wide and fell upon her once more, sucking her sinful flesh into his mouth.
Ruth let her head fall back, her mouth open in a silent scream of delight she couldn’t control. He spread her wide with his thumbs and licked her center, his pleased rumble making her shiver as he tasted the dripping sin of her body.
Gabriel moved his fingers to the pierced nub and pinched. She cried out at the sudden pain, but the sound cut off with a gurgling moan when he pushed his tongue into her channel.
The pressure was odd, but wonderful. No, it was wrong! Only a man’s flesh should go there, and only to create a baby with the Lord’s blessing.
She cried out as his tongue curled, seeming to grow thicker as he licked at her flesh, catching something deep inside that made her scream in a mixture of panic and delight.
Her belly felt tense and itchy, the sensation traveling to her core. He rubbed her sore nub with his fingers, making her clench around his tongue. And still the pressure on her stomach grew, something explosive and wonderful, terrifying and awful building inside her.
“Please!” she cried, unable to control her needy whines as she waited for the cataclysm to destroy her.
He laid a hand low on her body and pressed down as his mobile tongue curled up in her channel. She choked on a breath as every muscle in her body seized, and the overwhelming pleasure roared for release. Once more, he pinched her nub, the sharp pain the key to let the monster free.
It ravaged her, that massive thing, stealing her breath and her sight as she spasmed around his tongue, her body quivering with release. Her channel clenched hard, rippling around his tongue as she collapsed to the bed, spent and panting.
Gabriel rose above her, huge and hungry. His face glistened with wetness, thick honey covering his chin. Lowering himself, he rested his elbows on either side of her face and pushed his hands into her hair to hold her still as he kissed her.
He swept her mouth with his tongue and she tasted her musky spend on his lips. Kissing his way to her ear, he whispered, “Taste how sweet you are, Ruth. The dew of your first true orgasm is delicious.”
Chapter 8
For this is the will of God, even your sanctification, that ye should abstain from fornication. That every one of you should know how to possess his vessel in sanctification and honor, not in the lust of concupiscence, even as the Gentiles which know not God.
1 Thessalonians 4:3-5
“There’s a good girl,” Gabriel whispered. He straightened and tugged her bottom to the edge of the bed, putting her back where he wanted her.
Ruth didn’t have the energy to protest. It was as if that powerful rush of sensation he called an orgasm had stolen her wits. She’d always been taught that sexual congress only happened when a man wanted his wife to bear a child. It wasn’t meant to be pleasurable for either partner.
In Leviticus City, it would have been unthinkable to use one’s mouth during congress. There was a tiny, wicked part of her that thought it was a shame. The delight he’d given her was so much more profound than what she’d gotten by rubbing her sin cavern against rough bedding.
And that truly depraved part of her psyche wondered if she could do the same to him. She squeezed her eyes shut, desperate to erase the sudden image from her mind.
If her penance was to be his whore, she could bear it. If she enjoyed it, no atonement on earth would wash her soul clean. It was already too late. She let out a barely audible sob, hiding it behind a sigh.
As if he sensed her sudden tension, he stroked her, his hands soothing and gentle as he petted her shoulders and down her flanks. Curling his hands around her thighs, he pushed them up, bending her almost double as he spread her open.
“So soft and silky,” he murmured, wedging his hips between her splayed thighs. His hard cock nudged against her sin cavern, the reddened crown bumping against the piercing. “It’s going to sting a bit, but I’m going to make it worth your while.”
Ruth knew he told her the truth about both things. She already knew it would hurt, the pain of her maidenhead being torn just the beginning of every woman’s penance for Eve’s sins.
And he would give her pleasure again, though she might die of it.
Closing her eyes, she tried to relax as he eased his thick cock into her. Every so slowly, he filled her, the initial sting giving way to warmth as he thumbed her nub. She gasped and bore down, the nerves sparking at his touch.
“Ah, there you are, sweetheart. Keep your eyes open. I want to see those pretty blue eyes when you come for me.” He squeezed her nub, not quite hard enough to hurt.
“But first, we’re going to have a basic anatomy lesson.” He stroked deeper, not quite to the hilt, but close enough that she felt the stinging stretch. “I’m fucking your beautiful pussy.”
“No, it’s—”
“Not a fucking sin cavern,” he interrupted. “Repeat my words, Ruth. Gabriel is fucking my beautiful pussy.”
Ruth swallowed hard, trying to will the words forth. She choked on them, but whispered, “Gabriel is fucking my beautiful pussy.”
“Gabriel is rubbing my sweet clit,” he prodded. “Not a goddamned devil’s doorbell.”
Why was he making her sin in word as well as deed? Did he seek to drive her further into evil? Sudden anger filled her, and she shouted, “Gabriel is rubbing my sweet clit!”
He fell over her, his weight heavy on her belly as he buried his fists in her hair. In a softer voice filled with smiles, he said, “Gabriel is going to make me come and fucking drench him with my honey
.”
The abrupt change in his expression from acquisitive greed to kindness made tears prickle in her eyes. “Why are you doing this?” she asked. “Why do you drag me deeper into depravity?”
“Shh, sweet girl. You’ll understand soon, but I want you to say the words with me.”
His cock twitched, moving to rub against something deep inside her. Combined with the sharp ache of her lost virginity, the sensation morphed into something else beyond pain or pleasure.
Gabriel thrust deep, making her cry out. She wanted to escape. No, she wanted to arch against him for more.
He whispered with her, “Gabriel is going to make me come.”
Snaking a hand under her bottom, he lifted her to him, changing the angle of penetration to rub at a new spot.
“And fucking drench him with my honey.”
Something changed inside her. A switch flipped, her mind shifted. Her body wanted. A low growl bubbled in her throat, breaking free as she kicked out to make him release her thighs. Still growling, she wrapped her legs around his hips and squeezed to bring him closer.
Her hands flew to his shoulders, short nails digging in until his skin became slippery with blood and the viscous crimson dripped down his chest. She thought she ought to be horrified by her actions. She’d harmed a Servant of the Word; a crime punishable by crucifixion.
She didn’t care. If he chose to execute her after this, she’d pay her penance in Hell.
Giving her a shadowed grin that bared his teeth, he whispered, “There you are, monster. I knew you were in there.” He rolled them over until she straddled him, never allowing his cock to leave her body. “Now fuck me like you mean it.”
Fingers digging into her hips, he lifted her then let her fall, using gravity to impale her on his cock. Again and again, until she got the rhythm he wanted.
Her body took over, her hips rolling as she fucked him like a possessed creature. Letting go of his torn shoulders, she grabbed his hair, desperate to taste his lips.
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