by Lily White
Another strike and I screamed again, my throat torn by the sheer volume, my jaw aching from how wide I stretched my lips. My wrists shook in the cuffs that held them, my legs giving out until I couldn’t find the ability to push to my feet again. Tears dropped to the floor beneath me, small, wet puddles of evidence that could be used against me. Those same tears soaked into my lips, the salt flavor of my agony a coating over my tongue.
Through sobs, I called out, "I've wanted immorality, craved sensuality, exposed my body and tempted men. I let one touch me. Let him press his naked body against mine." A terribly deep sob racked me. "He wasn't my husband."
The next strike of the whip cut through the cries of surprise and grunts of disapproval from the audience. Voices picked up, prayers being repeated as the men witnessed my shame. I wasn't sure my knees would hold me much longer.
Memory took me back to that night on the road, the night I'd willfully shown my body to a man who wasn't Elijah. For months, I'd believed he'd forgiven me, but in a state of panic about my eternal soul, Elijah had remembered within the last few days, all because I'd confessed what happened that night had become a fantasy.
Not the man. Never him. Just the way he'd controlled me.
"I invited the man to look at me," I breathed out before the whip came down again. The crack of leather caused my body to jump. The burning strike against my skin driving the breath from my lungs. My voice cracked and splintered beneath the strain of pure torture.
Euphoria settled in as I hung limp from the cuffs that bound me, and I felt free once again, slickness evident between my thighs.
The whip stopped, its weight dropped to the floor at my feet.
Elijah stood silent for only a few seconds before turning to the audience and claiming, "Gentlemen, the purge of evil has begun."
JACOB
Darkness doesn't settle, it consumes.
Flames of burning onyx, smoke full of mortal dread. Talons that tear you limb from limb until you're only a shadow of what you once had been.
I know darkness, and darkness knows me. I'd stared into its eyes and breathed its noxious poison. I'd supped on the sensual torment of every girl who'd crossed my bed. They scream until the night is cut through by the violence in their voice, but they keep coming back, one by one, begging to do it again.
They weren't her, though - weren't Cassandra or Eve. Sure, they begged and cried like the other two, but not for me to keep going. They wanted me to stop. Fear overtook them, the pain unsettling, but I never listened, never cared, never fell for the pathetic pleas and moans.
They knew what they were walking into when they climbed into my bed.
My heart was absent after the loss of Eve, but I hadn't been knocked down by her death. I was brought to life. I was charged by vengeance and the patience of biding my time.
Because if the monster inside couldn’t be glutted by the sadism in bed - if I could no longer grow hard over the trembling bodies of the weak and desirous, the temptresses who keep me enraptured - then that vengeance I needed would be the only escape, the only balm, the last wicked act that would console me.
It was only a matter of time…
ELIJAH
"Shhhhh, my girl, shhh. It wasn't that bad. I didn't lose control like I feared I would. Don't worry."
After the building had emptied and the men returned home to think over what they witnessed, I stood behind Eve spreading ointment over her wounds. Her arms were still bound to the posts at her sides, blood seeping down her back where the thin lashes had broken the skin.
"You're tired. You should rest when I pull you down. You're limp."
"I could sleep for days," she answered, her voice haggard and breathless.
Soft laughter was a rumble in my chest. "Not that I'd let you."
Stepping closer, I ran my lips across her shoulder, enjoyed the shudder of her body as my hand reached around to take possessive hold of her breast. "You make me hungry in ways no man should hunger. I can't look at you without wanting to taste your decadent sin."
"Then I'll destroy you."
"No, my sweet girl. You'll never be powerful enough for that."
I fought not to laugh at how confused she was - had always been since the day her parents brought her to live with the family. Tiny and shy, she'd stared at me with distrustful eyes, her body angled so that she was partially hidden behind her mother's legs.
I'd smiled down at her and hadn't known at that moment just how much potential existed inside her.
As the years passed and as she grew into the woman she now was, that potential revealed itself to me until I was no longer able to deny it.
She was everything I needed, everything that Jacob needed to lose himself once again.
Raising her, training her, molding her, had been so damn sweet.
Reaching to unbuckle her cuffs, I released one wrist to watch her arm slap down to the side. Every ounce of strength in her body was gone. She was malleable and pliant, weak willed and distraught.
"You were a good example today, Eve. A testament to what I've made of you. You'll help me lead them to the light."
Her other wrist released, she would have fallen to the floor had I not caught her. "We'll get you cleaned up. Let you sleep."
Cradling her to my chest, I made my way to the rectory and placed her on a chair in the bedroom, reminding her not to lean back against her wounds as I drew a bath.
Eve's identity remained a mystery to the residents of the small town. They neither knew she was my wife nor that she stayed at the parish with me as entertainment for the long nights I spent within the dismal confines of a rural building.
I missed the energy of the city where I was raised, missed the constant stimulation to be had from the myriad of faces.
The family had been a distraction for as long as it took Richard and me to gather them and cure them of the morality they'd learned from the world. Our games had been amusing, an experiment that kept boredom at bay over the years I created my small army.
Now, however, confined to a parish that meant nothing more to me than what it would offer within the town, my tastes delved into deeper darkness, my mind screaming for sensation within the shell of a life my brother had left behind.
How he hadn't gone mad prior to my delicate prodding, I wasn't sure. The lack of light, the absence of activity, the hours of solitude were enough to push any sane person over the edge.
Water filled the tub, a sheen of steam rolling over its surface before I turned it off and returned to Eve. Her wounds weren't as bad as they would one day become, a web of striated scars over her skin telling the tale of the abuses she'd endured for her faith.
I'd feel wrong for taking such full advantage if I didn't loathe the easily deceived, the pathetic minded majority that clung to a story told for over two thousand years.
She trembled as I carried her to the tub, her hair draped over my arm and her hands clinging weakly to my body. Dropping her into the water crossed my mind. She wouldn't be able to stop her fall.
But it would break her too much, too soon, and too badly for the games I wanted to play.
Lowering her beneath the surface, I closed my eyes in response to the painful cry that burst from her lips.
"Shhhhh," I reminded her. "It will all be over soon."
Tears streamed down her cheeks to mingle with the water, her body's quiver becoming still as the heat soothed the wounds.
"Is that better?" I whispered.
Her head nodded, the ends of her hair trailing in the water. Like dark silk, it floated on top, the pale tone of her skin blurred beneath the ripples. My gaze dragged across to where her collarbone broke the surface of the water, down farther to where the tight peak of her breast was just beneath, the soft rose color teasing me until I had to force myself to look away.
I couldn't fuck her after what I put her through. I couldn't use her body even more just to gratify mine. That would be cruelty beyond bounds, the hunger of a monster.
Or could I?
Did I really care if it hurt her or not?
Balancing an arm over the lip of the tub, I skimmed the tips of my fingers over the water. Eve's breathing was slow and rhythmic, a soothing sound against my ear as I dipped my fingers down beneath to trace them over the soft curve of her abdomen.
Her lips parted on a sigh, her chest arching up just enough to tell me she would accept the pain of my body against her wounds just to linger within the pleasure I could give her.
So perfectly trained.
"Do you still think about the man on the side of the road, my love? The man who saw the parts of you that should have only been for me? Who touched you when you belonged to a man of God?"
Eyes blinking open, she stared at me from beneath waterlogged lashes. My hand traveled lower over her body, my fingers brushing down between her legs, not to torment but to tease. Her breath rattled from her lungs.
"Yes. I've told you the story so many times. And you've punished me each time I've told it, but still, when I close my eyes, I see him touching himself, feel his eyes on my body while he-"
Her words cut off when my finger dipped inside her body to massage around the entrance, to tantalize the muscles into expanding for my intrusion.
I tsked my tongue against the roof of my mouth, smiled down at a living doll who was created to house my spirit. The girl she'd been before the week in my cabin was no longer staring out from behind green eyes, she was locked away and caged, a phantom that should have never existed.
A steady rhythm in and out, my hand worked to push her to that edge. Studying her the way a cat would watch a wounded bird, I noted every shiver across her skin, every flicker of her eyelashes, and the heavy breath pulsing across her lips. I watched as a faint pink blush colored her skin, listened as the soft moans of a woman seeking her seductive release crawled up her slender throat.
I'd give her what she sought, send her careening over that edge into ecstasy, but not without a price.
Leaning closer, I kept my lips a teasing distance from her ear. My free hand pressed to her forehead, I gave her only one warning. "Hold your breath."
Her eyes opened and rounded just as her head sank beneath the water, my palm pressed against her forehead as if I were baptizing her all over again.
Still working her body, I held her down, watched as small bubbles of air escaped her lips to float to the surface. She writhed beneath the touch, fought against being held in place, her terrified eyes still staring up at me despite the water between us.
"Don't be scared," I said softly, unsure whether she could hear me. "Just let go. Trust me, Eve. Turn your life over into my hands."
It was the undiluted panic that fascinated me, the sound of splashing water against the porcelain tub and tile floor, the way her body shifted and moved as she struggled against my hold. It was the knowledge that, despite her fear, a climax had burst through her body, the sound of it woven into her breath as it rose in large chaotic bubbles through the water.
When she stilled, when the light behind her eyes faded until I knew she was close to unconsciousness, I lifted her head above the surface of the water, my voice a soft hum against her weary senses.
She gasped for breath as I smiled.
"Always trust me, Eve. And I will be sure to take care of you."
JACOB
"You should get out more, Jacob. Do something besides sulk in your room. I thought you wanted to leave the priesthood. Why do you seem so bummed about it?"
Alan Ross stared across the small bar-top table at me as he traced his fingers over the condensation of his mug. Inside the glass, his beer had settled into a golden liquid, the white froth that topped it off all but gone now that he'd taken two large swallows.
I wrapped my hand around the shot glass of whiskey, my eyes glancing up at the bartender before I motioned her for one more. I drank the shot in one quick swallow. The burn down my throat reminded me of when Alan and I would hang out like this in college.
"I'm not sulking in my room," I answered.
A bark of laughter escaped his lungs. "Yeah, I've heard what you're doing in there. You scared the crap out of Tracy's friend."
I didn't know who Tracy was, and I didn't know the name of her friend. But I could say that if either of them had been in my room since the time I moved in with Alan, they were just more woman within a sea of faces.
He must have picked up on my thoughts. "Elena? Blonde with big-" He held his hands up to his chest, his lips stretched into a grin. "If she wasn't Tracy's best pal, I would have dragged her into my bed a long time ago."
A brow arched over my eye. "I'm surprised you're sticking to one woman at a time. That wasn't like you in college."
"And I'm surprised you became a priest," he responded, his hand running through his shaggy blond hair as he leaned back in his seat. After taking another swallow of his beer, he dropped the weight of the glass onto the table. The beer sloshed up to spill over the rim.
Without looking at me, he lowered his voice and asked, "Was it because of Cassandra?"
Hearing the name drove a spike of anger down my spine. Cassandra was one of the last people I wanted to discuss. "Tell your friend if she has an issue with me than she should stay the fuck away."
Another burst of laughter shook his shoulders. "I'm not saying she's complaining. Just that you scared her."
"I have to piss," I said, not concerned with the pathetic concerns of a prissy bitch who liked to dabble with a man such as me.
Alan watched as I walked away, his face blending into the crowded bar as I wove my way around different groups standing between our table and the back hallway. I'd almost made it into the dimly, lit space leading to the bathroom when a hand landed on my shoulder.
Pivoting on my heel, I clenched my fist before meeting the stare of a red headed woman.
"Hey," she called out over the loud music. Playing it off, she feigned surprise, her green eyes widening subtly. "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were someone else."
She was lying.
But even still, the room spun around me, memories creeping in that dragged me back to a small parish in the middle of nowhere - to green eyes that had mistaken me for someone else and had ended up flat and lifeless as a result.
I fought to push them away.
"No problem," I answered before brushing her hold off my shoulder and stepping toward the hall.
Before I could go far, she called out, "My name is Kristen, by the way."
Like I gave a damn about her name.
The shadows of the hall wrapped around me as soon as I turned the corner. I'd almost reached the men's room door, when the same voice called out again. "You know, it's polite to tell a person your name when they tell you theirs."
I stopped, not bothering to turn back and look at the woman. "I didn't ask you for your name."
"But I gave it to you anyway. How does that make you feel?"
She was just flirting, just toying with a man she found attractive on her night out. It was only fair to warn her.
"You don't want to know me. I can promise you that."
"Yet, here I am."
Glancing at her from over my shoulder, I cocked a brow and looked her up and down. Beneath the long red hair, her face was unmarked by lines of age. I guessed her for twenty-one, twenty-three at most. Not as young as Eve, but still just as stupid.
Narrow shoulders led down to a decent sized chest, the upper swells peeking out from above the tiny blue shirt that hid nothing. Her stomach was flat, her hips rounded, her shapely legs sculpted by the tight jeans she wore. It was obvious she hadn't worn a bra. I wondered if she’d even bothered with panties.
Regardless of the tight body that called to the carnal parts of any man, it was her hair that caught my attention. The same color as Annabelle's, it had more of a wave, but the length was just the same. I smiled at the whispered thoughts running through my head.
"You should be careful of who you tease, Kristen. You never know what kind
of man you're facing."
I gave her the warning nobody had ever thought to give Annabelle.
Her gaze studied my body as thoroughly as mine had studied hers. "You look like the type I'm after."
A grin stretched my lips. "What kind is that?"
A full mouth parted, white teeth barely visible beneath the scarlet lipstick she wore. "The kind that can show a girl a good time."
Turning fully, I checked the hall to ensure we were alone. Not another soul existed within the shadowed interior. With one measured step toward the woman staring me down, I was damn close to being on top of her. She had as much intelligence as she did sense of personal space.
Maybe it was the look in my eyes, or maybe it was the malicious energy rolling off me, but she understood then that she was locked down by the attention of a predator. Taking a step back, she smiled hesitantly.
I closed the distance and laughed softly when her back hit a wall.
Canting my head to the side, I kept my eyes trained on hers.
Speckled within the soft green were flecks of brown. Not exactly like Eve's had been, but close enough. My voice was a bare whisper, just loud enough to be heard over the echo of music rolling down the hall. "What do you consider a good time?"
My fingers trailed up her arm. Goosebumps broke over her flesh, her wide eyes rounding. Brushing my thumb over the side of her breast, I looked down to see her nipple beading beneath her shirt.
Like every other bitch I'd had beneath me, she shivered when my lips touched her ear. "Do you like being bound and helpless, Kristen? Do you like it when a strange man takes control of your body to do whatever wicked thing he dreams up?"
Breath rushed from her lungs, hot and heavy. Our hips were pressed together, her breasts tight to my chest. I ran my free hand up the inside of her thigh, stopping just before reaching the apex. "Do you want me to just strip you down right here, or were you looking for something a little more private?"
It was no longer a question of whether I'd given in to the beast inside me. Darkness was always a ring around my vision, death a possibility that hung in the air each time I let go to my desires.
