by Azure Boone
He warmed her skin with handfuls of water and smiled. “You planned to marry a Satanist when you were young?”
She laid her head on his shoulder and mmmed in his neck. “I planned to marry the most amazing man in the world.”
Micah pressed her head against his shoulder and stroked it, emotion rushing in until he could hardly breathe. “I’m not amazing,” he whispered. The hell of his life suddenly gathered in his chest, threatening to crush him.
She reached up and hugged his neck, kissing his shoulder blade. “It’s not my fault you don’t know how amazing you are.”
“You’re the amazing one.” He turned and kissed her cheek, wetting her back with more warm water.
“Yes. I suppose I am.”
He chuckled, loving how sweet and innocent she was. Pure. He realized in an odd sense that he liked her…godly. The whole concept of a loving god with a perfect and forever heaven fit in her life. If fit her soul. And she was beautiful in it. “We were going to have a huge wedding you know.” Micah still couldn’t believe he’d picked a woman that held so stubbornly to her beliefs. And to fall in love with her on top of that was just nightmarish irony. If it wasn’t for him being in love with her, he’d never worry about if things would pan out, all of his wicked schemes always panned out. He was sure the terror that haunted him had everything to do with her goodness. Nothing, absolutely nothing truly good ever happened to him, not without a vicious cost.
“Are you…I mean will you…forgive me Micah?”
“Forgive you, forgive what?”
“For… ruining everything?”
Micah bolted up at hearing her crying. “Baby baby, hey, stop that, why would I be mad at you for being amazing? Sarah please,” Micah whispered. “Please know how much I love you, and that I have an unbelievable amount of admiration for you.”
“You do?” she cried in his neck.
“Honey, yes, more than I can ever express.”
“Thank you,” she gasped. “That means so much to me Micah.”
He embraced her tightly and the words slipped out. “I’m the fucking monster.”
She shook her head. “No, you’re not. You don’t want to do this sweetie, and I’m believing that God will help us figure out something.”
It took all his will power not to snort and curse. “You think?” And he sure hoped she didn’t think his admiration of her faith meant he wouldn’t try and convince her to renounce. He kissed her shoulder then patted the marble the tub edge for her to sit. She obeyed without question, wiping her eyes.
Micah knelt before her, ready to make her forget all the bad for now. He needed to fill her with as much of him as he could, while he could. When she finally looked at him, her breath caught at seeing how much he wanted her. “You know what I have to have.”
She bit her lower lip as he pushed her knees apart until she was nice and wide. He slid his finger along her opened folds then barely touched her where he knew it already throbbed. “You like it when I suck you right here?”
She nodded, her breath catching on a moan. “Yes.”
He ran his hands along her inner and outer thighs then lifted her legs and placed her feet on the ledge of the marble. He opened her knees then, exposing her completely and utterly to him.
Sarah bit her lip when he looked back up at her. Seeing pure lust mixed with her innocence speared his groin with hunger. She held his shoulders as he leaned in and delicately tasted her lips. With a teasing touch, he tickled her entrance with a finger and she gasped. He slowly worked it inside her, his kiss getting hungry. “You’re like hot silk on my finger,” he said in her mouth.
Sarah moaned and pumped against his hand, wanting deeper and faster. She kneaded at the muscles on his shoulders when he moved his finger slowly in and out, her incessant little moans filling his mouth. With a groan, he plunged in deep, and rapidly flicked her core.
Her head fell back. “Oh God, Micah.”
Micah was ready to have his mouth and tongue where his fingers were. He dropped between her legs, opening her wider and getting an eye full of her beauty. “Fuck,” Micah gasped watching her push her hips shamelessly toward him. He leaned in and slowly kissed at the juncture of her thighs then looked up the luscious line of her body. “What do you want?”
She gasped and bit her lip. “Kiss it.”
He slid his cheek along her soft inner thigh. “What else.”
“And…lick it.”
His eyes rolled shut as her words touched him deeper than anything. “What else.”
She moaned softly. “Suck it. Please.”
Pressing his cheek into her leg, he watched her as he slid his finger back in and gave a series of erratic flicks. She cried out again and he began placing soft kisses on her folds, teasing. “You’re so beautiful when you’re hot.”
“Please suck it. Do it.”
He finally licked at her clit with the very tip of his tongue and she gave a whole body shudder. “That?”
“Yes,” she gasped. “More, please. Suck it. Suck it into your mouth.” She buried her fingers in his hair and pulled a little.
Fuck yes. “Make me, Sarah.”
Desire dripped from her as she pulled hard at his head, forcing his lips on her. “Suck me. Do it.” She held him there and flicked her hips on his mouth just right. He groaned and obliged her, so fucking turned on. She tightened her fingers in his hair and moved him on her. “Yes, like that baby. Finger me and suck me, yes.”
His breath grew more ragged as he grunted and complied with his sweet wife. Wife. He shoved the fear back, refusing to let anything ruin their time together.
“God, Micah, touch my breasts, make it so hot.”
Micah gasped, ready to orgasm where he knelt. She was a goddess of passion, and her angelic commands were addicting. He had never allowed himself to be at the mercy of another. That required trust and he didn’t do trust, trust was forbidden to him.
Except with Sarah.
Initially, he’d been lenient with her, not wanting to scare her off. But even back then, removing the controlling power altogether had been impossible. He’d resorted to commanding her body indirectly with passion. And she’d responded so beautifully to it. So perfectly. He wanted desperately to explore so many things with her. He wanted her to trust him enough to make love to her in real dominance. God, he just wanted her every day, in his bed, in his arms, his life.
He obediently reached up and rolled her plump peak between his fingers, stroking his finger along her core as he fluttered his tongue on her swollen gem. Her silky body clamped down, a series of sporadic tremors building in intensity. His angel was close to paradise.
Micah was ready to take back control. He stood before her, his erection reaching for her lips. He didn’t say a word as she grabbed hold of him with both hands and took all of him into her mouth. He thrust his hips and hit the back of her throat with a groan, loving the sound of her whimpers. “Touch yourself Sarah. Right on your pretty clit.” He stood between her legs and opened his, pushing her knees farther apart. “Are you touching yourself?”
She moaned and nodded, sucking him with a succulent hunger.
“Is it hot?” He slid his fingers in her silky hair and she nodded with more faint whimpers. She swirled her pink tongue all over the top of him and he pulled her hair. “Sarah, god, yes!”
Her moans intensified and he stroked faster in and out. He angled his head, watching her play with herself. “Your fingers look so fucking good there.”
Micah pulled out of her mouth, not wanting to come that way. He needed inside her. Needed to see her face beneath him as he drove into her, devastated her sweet body, made it his again. And again.
He lifted her in his arms and carried her to his bed. He loved doing that. His bride. His Sarah. So full of love, passion and hope. And all for him. She’d given up everything but the one thing that was most important. So far. He had to convince her that she must. But for now, he just needed to make love to her.
; Laying her on the bed, he climbed on top of her and she hungrily leaned up and kissed his chest and neck, sucking the skin with a pure passion. She wrapped his waist with strong legs and beckoned him inside with an urgency that made him desperate.
He drove into her hard this time and received her sharp cry with his kiss. She held his face, gasping in his mouth, her tongue seeking his. He gave her whatever she wanted, stroking dominantly along hers as he explored her mouth.
He pulled out of her and slammed back in. Again she gave him a sharp gasp and he devoured it, his mouth on hers with feverish demand. Micah slid his hands under her upper back and latched onto her shoulders. She was tiny in his arms, fragile. And yet in desire she was unbelievably strong. He curled his fingers over her shoulder blades and began moving within her clenching fire, his rhythm smooth and deep with building intensity edging every stroke.
Micah buried his mouth in her neck, sliding his face along the silky column as wicked flames gathered hard in his body. Devastate and own was all it knew. He grabbed her hands and she fought to lace her fingers in his. He let her, finding that somehow even better than dominance with her. Holding her hands next to her head, he lifted his upper body to see her beneath him as he prepared for the final sprint to paradise.
He moved faster, watching her delicious breasts move to his rhythm. But the perfect oval of her mouth, the intense agony on her brow, the rising tempo of her cries as he flicked his hips harder, faster…was earthmoving.
“Micah! Oh God, oh God!”
Her desperate cry shoved him over the edge. Clenching his eyes, he roared, his body gripped hard by ecstasy. For the last strokes, he fell on her, needing to feel her body entirely on his, sealing his pores to hers. And maybe, hopefully, sealing her fate to his as well.
Chapter Seven
Micah went to the kitchen for a bottle of wine. One was hardly enough to take the edge off. Sarah was sitting on the balcony, star gazing. He didn’t understand how she could behave like they were on their honeymoon, happy and peaceful as could be. He didn’t fucking get it. Was she medicating?
The dread of her not renouncing followed every step and breath he took. Fuck, he couldn’t let her be Sifted.
“Master Seven.”
Micah nearly dropped the bottle and spun. “Shit Raleigh, don’t fucking do that.”
“My sincerest…apologies…sir.”
Micah sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t handle the old man right now. He took forever to say shit because he felt the need to stress every syllable to convey his eternal and perfect contempt for Micah and everything else. Excluding his brother, Scythe. The gnarly buzzard sang like a virgin school boy for him.
“I wanted to inform you that the family will be home early.”
Micah’s insides jolted but he hid it. Of course he wanted to inform him. “How early?”
“On the first morn.”
Fuck. “In the morning?”
A slow impervious nod. “Reven asked if you brought the woman.”
Micah looked at the weathered twig, wanting to break him for just standing there and existing in his life at such a time. He was Reven’s spy, and right now, digging his eyeballs out and shoving them up his ass was beyond tempting. “And?”
“Indeed you did bring her. That twas my reply.”
Micah fought a smirk at his stupid way with words. “Good.”
“There is to be a wedding, I presume?”
He presumed. Lying bastard. “You do indeed presume perfectly.”
“I have prepared a midnight snack for you and…”
“Sarah.” He hated giving her name. To hear it come out of his unworthy air pipes would be torture. But of course he didn’t want to piss him off. He needed all the help he could get. “She insisted I compliment your culinary talents.”
Pride lit his cirrhotic gaze. “There is more where that came from.”
Micah barely managed a polite nod, detesting the way the man acted like he were butler to royalty, or Bat Man.
“Oh and…your esteemed brother extends his…enthusiasm.”
“For what,” Micah openly accused.
“He is eager to…meet your new…virgin bride, I do believe.”
Micah’s insides turned to burning rock. Women groveled before his perfectly beautiful brother. “I’m sure he is.” Micah wouldn’t be able to take it if Sarah did. She was his, in every possible way, tradition or not, black heart or not, diabolical soul or not, renouncing or not. He was madly in love with a…Christian woman of all unthinkable and blasphemous things. His seamless little plan of seduction had worked oh so perfectly. On him. It would have been humorous to see the look of disgust that was sure to mar his brother’s perfect face except for what he knew would follow.
The Sifting. Scythe would be all too eager to perform every aspect of the ritual torture if he found out how much Micah loved her.
He could never let that happen.
And now the prick was arriving in the morning. He had no fucking time to figure out what to do.
****
Micah joined Sarah on the balcony, having had far too much whisky for a desperate man. He’d only downed half the bottle before coming back up with two wine bottles. He was frantic enough at this point to extract a drunk renouncement, whatever he could get.
They sat next to each other in their separate chairs, looking out at the moonlit ocean. Micah felt worlds apart from her. She peacefully nursed on one of the bottles while he nursed the other. “Talk to me Sarah.” He gazed at her, ready to understand her inside and out, explore her heart and soul so he could cleanse it of the ridiculous faith farce. “Tell me what is so special about your god that you would die for him.”
She swigged the wine and wiped her lips then leveled her gaze on him, head tilted in consideration. She shrugged. “Well, he did die for me.”
“He died for you. Why would he do that?” Micah knew the entire plan of redemption was flawed, maybe if he could demonstrate that, she would come to her senses.
She waved the bottle a little. “Because… holiness and righteousness is apparently a must in his world.”
“Why?”
She drew up a shoulder and held it, her brows raised, eyes closed. “My guess is…the universe isn’t designed to sustain the other.”
Her words slurred and he realized he wasn’t the only one near drunk. “Why would you guess such a thing?”
“Makes sense, everywhere I look. Love seems to be the foundation, the driving force of the good stuff.”
“You said holiness and righteousness.”
“Same thing.”
He studied her. Of course she would have an angle that he’d not seen, or heard before. That was his Sarah. “Same thing.”
She gave an exaggerated nod. “Which is why he had to die.”
Now she’d lost him twice in a row. “I’m not following.”
“I think it’s like…” Sarah closed her eyes and angled her head up long enough for him to wonder if she’d fallen asleep.
“Like?”
“Like a genetic flaw,” she said softly, not moving from her dozed position.
He tried to understand what she was attempting to convey without further burdening her brain circuitry, but what he was gathering wasn’t logically promising. “So…you’re saying we’re flawed genetically and you think he needed to come and die to fix that?”
“Exxxactly,” she pointed at him.
Good grief, unraveling her confusion would be wearisome. “Why would a powerful god need to come and die, why not just make it however he wished it to be?”
She gave a long pfffft followed by giggles. “You people amaze me, truly.”
“You people?”
“Yes…” She nodded and tapped her temple with a squinty eye. “You people who are sooooo smart and have the… audacity to think that there is no intelligence lurking beyond all those silly little Bible words.” She held up her hand as though expecting stupid words from him. “I know,
I know, contradictions… inconsistencies. Or?” She leaned forward a little and held up a finger. “Or. Clarifications, and variations.”
He couldn’t keep from grinning at how cute she was tipsy. But he couldn’t afford to go easy on her. “So the truth changes.”
She shook her head real big. “I’m sayin’ that…the truth…no wait, back up, back up. Saying that humans are like… crystals. And none two are the same.” Her brows drew together. “None two? No two? No two. And when the truth passes through these crystals…” she nodded with a wait for it smile, “…its reflection… varies.”
Micah got hard despite his inebriation. She was so fucking bright in so many ways. She was as different and beautiful as that explanation she just gave. And whenever she got passionately pissed about what she believed, wow, a major turn on despite how ludicrous he found her ideals.
“So I’m supposed to believe that we inherited a genetic flaw, and that your god imputed the inheritance—that we have no control over if it’s genetic—to us as sin, and will punish us with eternal hell if we don’t take his Jesus pill?”
She stared at him then busted out laughing. “Oh my God, Micah,” she shook her finger at him, “that is actually exactly it.”
“And you find it just to impute genetic flaws as sin?”
She took another swig of wine. “M-mm,” she shook her head, “not the kind of sin you think. Different kind. This one’s inherent, it’s a defect, the one sin that we can’t undo or not commit by choice.” She hiccupped. “But all the rest…” she waved her hand, “we commit all of ‘em, every single one.”
“So why impute a defect as sin?”
“No, you’re not getting it. Say two red roses… mix with a carnation.” She shook her head, “no, scratch that, stupid analogy,” she muttered. “Say you have a lock and there is only one perfect key that fits that lock. Now say that the one perfect key is the first perfect couple on Earth. Now say that couple sins one time. Are they still perfect? No, they’re not. And therefore they can no longer open that lock, which is Heaven by the way. Now those two perfect people who were no longer perfect had imperfect offspring. They passed that state of imperfection to their kids. Like a genetic flaw. ”
