Page 5 of Damnation (Gallows Hill)

Regardless, I had never witnessed gratitude like hers before.

It took every bit of strength inside me not to reach into my pocket once more and offer her everything I had.

Whatever I possessed, I desired her to have it more, which was quite a strange feeling.

Though I’d never speak it aloud, to be granted the permission to hold her hands in my own for a little longer, I would have walked away from her a penniless man in exchange.

Then my arse of a brother came along, spoiling the moment and my mood. And then the following moment stolen with her, William came along and spoilt that as well.

The disrespect he showed her had my fists clenching, readying themselves to cease his actions and words.

As Sarah does, she remained silent and steadfast, no matter the whispers or glares she receives.

She remained unmoving and still. No matter how deeply I yearn to gather her into my arms and shield her from any ill notions or words, she did not need me. Perhaps that is why I desire her so.

As my feet carry me to the creek, I hesitate when I see a figure on the other side. My hand moves to the pistol on my hip, first thoughts conjuring a bear or wild cat. They have been known to wander this area, especially before winter’s arrival.

Upon a closer look, my hand moves away from the pistol. Not a wild cat or bear, but human.

A soft sound echoes through the creekside, drawing me nearer. I cannot understand the words, or maybe it’s because there aren’t any. All I hear is a woman’s voice humming a tune as she bathes in the creek beneath the moonlight.

The sound is mesmerizing as I take step after step towards the carrier of such melody. My feet only cease once I have reached the creek bed, and the woman before me becomes clear.

Sarah.

She is dressed in only her undergarments, the white slip dress clinging to her skin as she pours a bucket upon herself.

The water soaks her clothing, forcing it to become more transparent.

I feel myself hardening at the sight of her, and though I know how wrong it is just to be looking upon her, God himself would have to pluck my eyesight to force me to do so.

Sarah continues humming that familiar tune, swaying beneath the moonlight as she turns and faces me. Her nipples are hard, poking through the thin material as it clings to every curve of hers. My eyes roam up and down over her before her eyes meet my own.

Horror flashes in them as she lets out a screech. She begins to run through the creek for the grass, and before I can resist my urges, I’m chasing her like a hunter to his prey.

My feet pound against the rocky bed of the creek as water reaches my knees. That does nothing to deter my hunt. Sarah’s dress offers her great resistance in her escape, and I thank God for it because I catch her all that easier.

When my hand goes to her mouth to cease her screams, we tumble to the ground, her back landing against the grass while our feet are still in the water.

“Hush, hush, ‘tis me. It’s Thomas,” I assure her.

Sarah’s eyes are wide with fear, but upon hearing my name, her screaming ceases, and her fear vanishes. Something inside of me enjoys the peace my presence seems to bring her. I enjoy that far too much, actually.

Slowly, I remove my hand from her mouth, resting it on the other side of her head in the grass, suspending the upper half of my body above hers while our legs are still tangled together in the river.

“T-thomas?” she questions breathily. “What are you doing here?”

I tilt my head to the side curiously, my tone attempting to sound chastising, though the smile that spreads across my face betrays me.

“What am I doing near my creek? What are you doing, Mrs. Good, bathing in the moonlight on my property?”

“I was not,” she rushes on to say, shaking her head quickly. “I stayed on this side. I made sure of it. I…I always bathe here at night.”

That captures my attention. The common creek is far closer to her home. To get here is a great walk, especially wet after bathing.

“Why?” I question.

Her full lips part, but they don’t say a word.

I feel my heart beating in my chest so loudly, I wonder if she too can feel it, or at the very least, hear it.

I’m unsure if it is the silence the night brings, the privacy, or the fact of being in this woman’s presence turns me into a man I do not recognize, but the words spill from my lips despite better judgment.

“I rather enjoy the idea of you bathing in my creek.”

Sarah’s eyebrows come together curiously.

“Y-you do?”

My head moves up and down, my eyes never leaving hers.

“Very much.”

A choppy exhale escapes her as her own eyes roam my face, so many thoughts running through her mind, I’d give anything just to pluck one and hear it for myself.

“I have to go, Mr. Putnam. If someone were to see us in this way?—”

“Thomas,” I insist.

A soft look passes upon her face as she nods.

“Thomas. You’re…you’re on top of me.”

I blink, as if the very idea of how this would look to others had just now crossed my own mind.

In this moment, I feel her everywhere. I feel her legs resting on either side of my own.

I feel my thigh pressed against her center, the warmth of it forcing my length to twitch in desire.

She must be able to feel me because her body stills at the feeling.

My eyes slowly move from where we are tangled to her own.

“Apologies, Mrs. Good.”

“Sarah,” she says, just above a whisper, her chest heaving as she does.

My gaze moves down to see her left breast desperate to escape the confines of her dress. I watch her hardened nipple strain against the wet fabric to the point my own mouth waters with desire, craving nothing more than taking her into my mouth.

An action I never could have imagined in all my forty years on this world, Sarah’s hand slowly lifts, shaky fingers grasping the top of her fabric, dragging it down to expose her breast.

“Does this please you, Thomas?”

A growl akin to an animal rolls through my chest as my eyes greedily take in the sight before me. I’m struggling in this moment. Every bit of decorum and strength I have is being tested as I look upon this perfect woman, offering herself to me as if she were the meal I’ve long craved.

“I am a man of God,” I say through clenched teeth.

“And I, a woman of God,” she agrees.

“This is wrong. ‘Tis adultery,” I say as my hand comes down, skating across the silky, smooth skin of her breast.

Her back arches, a breathy sigh escaping her as she nods.

“‘Tis indeed.”

My hand cups her full breast, holding it into my hand as I lower my mouth to her. I feel the good, holy man I know myself to be leaving my body as a sinner of moral depravity takes over. And my apologies to you, God, I welcome him.

“Tell me to stop, Sarah. Tell me that you do not want me. Tell me you never wish to lay eyes on me again, nor have my touch upon your skin,” I practically beg.

She looks down at me before I feel her hand cup the back of my head. Her fingers lightly run through my hair, and for a moment, I close my eyes at the comfort it brings me. When I open my eyes again, Sarah is watching me with a look that is akin to the feeling inside me.

Fear, desperation, desire.

“I cannot lie to you, Thomas.”

That is it. That is all it takes to transform me from a good, holy man of God to a sinner bound for hell.

My mouth wraps around her nipple, tongue swirling around the stiff peak as she gasps with pleasure, rubbing her center against me with desperate need.

I afford her breasts all the attention I can possibly give, and then some, before my hands move to her dress, lifting it up to her hips and exposing her naked body. It is perfection.

I am fumbling with my belt buckle, peeling off my clothes as fast as I can manage before I am lining myself to her.

Sarah’s legs fall open, welcoming me inside her, but I don’t push.

Instead, I stay there a moment, dragging the tip of myself through her.

She is so wet and so warm, practically luring me inside.

I have laid my lips upon her skin, for that is true, but this, this is the moment that will be unforgivable, detestable.

I feel my morality shaking as I grapple with what to do next.

“Once we do this…there is no going back, Sarah,” I say, my voice straining.

Conflict rises on her face as she frowns.

“Should we not?”

I could scream. Do not do this to me. Do not make me the decider. I would have given anything for her to push down on me, taking away my hand and absolving me of guilt, truly, because I already know I have no choice in this matter.

Keeping myself lined up to her without pushing in, I rest my nose against hers, cupping her face tenderly.

“No, we should not.”

My lips press to hers in the same moment I push inside her.

Sarah whimpers as I ease myself inside her, inch by inch.

Her tongue swirls against my own, forcing me to pull out of her before thrusting back in harder this time.

In a moment that will no doubt be my most ashamed to face on judgement day, I’ve never felt so good in all my life.

She holds me tight, clenching me in a way that has me ready to finish in an instant.

I want this to last, though. I pull away from her lips, though I don’t last long before stealing another kiss and another.

Addiction. Far greater than any tobacco or drink anyone could ever offer.

Sarah Good is human embodied addiction. I’m sure of it now that God put her on this earth just to tempt me, and I’m ashamed to say, temptation won. I’m not sorry, though.

“Thomas,” she moans. “I never dreamt this moment would come.”

“Nor I, my love,” I say through clenched teeth, making a point to hold her face gently as I thrust in and out of her.

“My love?” she whispers.

“What else could this draw be? You were created for me, Sarah Good. Whether to bless me or torment me, perhaps both. ‘Tis not the point nor the matter. You. Are. My. Own.”

With each thrust, she moves against me more, and I feel the creeping in of my own release.

Her legs wrap around my back, locking me into place, and I groan as I feel myself begin to pulse.

I know I should discover how far into her cycle she is.

I should at the very least pull out of her before finishing.

Something in that notion feels incredibly wrong, though, and instead, I push inside her deeper, allowing my release to wash over me.

I moan into her shoulder, continuing my thrusts as her own release finds her. Our shouts of pleasure are drowned out by the running creek beside us, only the midnight sky a witness to what we have just done.

When the euphoria from our pleasure fades and our breathing settles, I look down at her, expecting to find regret. To my surprise, I find a smile. Dare I say the most beautiful smile to ever be gifted.

I do not speak, particularly because there is nothing to say.

We both know this was wrong. We are both married, with children, no less.

Both people of God who have just come together as man and wife outside of marriage.

We have not only committed a sin, we have become sin.

Especially due to the fact that this will not be the last time. I will not allow it.