Page 16 of Drag You Down (Bloody Desires #2)

Gabriel slowly peels my boxers away to reveal my cock, already half-erect and straining for more attention.

“Beautiful,” Gabriel whispers, his breath ghosting across my sensitive flesh and making my skin break out in goosebumps.

I don’t feel beautiful.

I feel afraid… and exhilarated.

I have fantasized about something like this for so long, too long, and now that it’s here, the fear is turning into excitement.

And trepidation.

Oh, I don’t know what I feel, but his proximity to me is almost more than I can stand.

The cat suddenly meows, and Gabriel’s attention breaks. He looks at the tub, where the cat is dipping its paw into the very full tub.

“Thanks for the warning, Ichabod,” Gabriel says. He gets up to turn off the water, leaving me standing naked in the cool air of the bathroom.

I’m still trembling, but I don’t think it has to do with the temperature of the bathroom. It has everything to do with the fact that I’ve allowed another man to see me naked, another man who clearly lusts for me.

A man I lust for in turn, and it’s so wrong .

Put to death therefore what is earthly in you: sexual immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, I think.

I can’t.

They’re too much a part of me now.

“Can I get in?” I ask, my voice high and strange as I near the bathtub. I try to keep myself positioned so he can’t easily see the way my cock strains and bobs with each step, but I know he can.

“Of course.” Gabriel extends his hand to me, and I realize he means to help me into the tub.

I take it. It’s warm, shockingly so, and his touch is firm and comforting in a way it has no right to be.

He helps me into the tub, and it’s so full that the water threatens to slosh over the sides.

Anxiety flares inside of me, and I go very still to avoid making a mess of his bathroom floor.

It doesn’t quite work, and water splashes out.

“Sorry!” I say quickly. My heart races as I prepare myself for admonishment — at the very least. He’s going to regret having taken me here.

Maybe that’s for the best.

But Gabriel shrugs. “I’ll mop it up later.”

I don’t understand the tears that threaten to spill out of my eyes. Why would this , out of everything, make me want to cry? I should have cried the first day we met, when I’d felt him claw into my soul, not because he didn’t even look at the mess I’d made!

He pulls the ottoman closer so he can sit beside the tub. He dangles one hand into the water. “How’s the temperature?”

“It’s good,” I say.

It’s better than good.

It’s warm and comforting, and it feels like a hug.

It shouldn’t.

It’s an indulgence I haven’t earned, an indulgence I shouldn’t enjoy.

My hand comes up again, toying with the crucifix around my throat. “Why did you buy me this?” I ask him, unable to keep myself from asking the question any longer.

“It was something you would like,” Gabriel says. He picks up a bath sponge and pours something that smells flowery on it. “You didn’t take the watch. Was it too flashy for you? But the crucifix is perfect.”

He starts to lather up my body, attending to me like he’s a bathhouse slave.

I’m still not convinced there wasn’t a hidden meaning behind it. “But why a crucifix? Why not a cross?” I press.

He smiles at me. “A cross can’t shield you from demons.”

“It’s very thoughtful of you,” I say despite the fierce pang of regret, “but I can’t keep it.”

“Why not?” he asks.

“Father Zachariah will want to know where I got it,” I tell him. “My sister… She saw it, too.”

Once, I would’ve thought it would be our secret. Now, though, as she gets closer and closer to finding her purpose as one of his wives, she seems less and less willing to protect me.

Maybe she shouldn’t.

I am coveting this.

I shouldn’t be.

Gabriel continues to bathe me, his touch gentle and warm. “Don’t worry about any of those things for now. Just focus on feeling good, boy. Let me take care of you.” He suddenly leans in.

I could evade his touch. The tub has plenty of space, and I could move to one of the other sitting ledges.

But I stay, allowing him to brush his lips against mine.

“Let Daddy take care of you, boy,” Gabriel says.

The words run down my spine like an electrical current.

Daddy. Boy.

Why are they so compelling?

They shouldn’t be. They sound so wrong.

“You aren’t my father,” I whisper. “I have Father Zachariah to take care of me.”

But Father Zachariah doesn’t call me little lamb, or boy, or anything that makes warmth blossom inside of me. What does it mean that Gabriel wants me to call him Daddy ?

“I’m not your father, but I’ll be your Daddy,” Gabriel says. He kisses me gently, and I sob against his lips, my head so hot, my cock hard .

When Gabriel pulls away, he smiles. “I’ll be so good to you, my little lamb. I’ll make sure to give you everything you need. I’ll protect you from the world and keep you safe in my arms. You won’t ever have to be afraid again.”

It sounds like a dream, a distant dream that I’ve fervently hoped for so many times. How many times have I wished for someone to help me, someone to save me?

But no matter what he says, he’s no avenging angel.

He’s temptation incarnate.

“What about my sister?” I ask, because for a moment, I consider what he’s offering.

It’s a terrifying proposition, but so is the idea of going back and facing Father Zachariah.

A small scowl crosses Gabriel’s brow, but he smooths his expression quickly. “We can get her out too, if you want. I can afford to get her a private apartment somewhere.”

Something in me falters. “Why wouldn’t I want to? She’s my sister . Don’t you have family you want to protect?”

Gabriel’s expression freezes. “I have a brother. And parents. But they live in Benton. I don’t see them often.”

Benton City is only a few hours away. I can’t imagine living so close to Eve but not seeing her often. She’s too much a part of my life.

But it’s obvious Gabriel’s family is more complicated than mine.

I realize I don’t know what to say now, and I slide deeper into the water so it comes up to my chin. I’m still hard, still needy for things I shouldn’t think about, for things I can’t think about lest the worst happen.

“Here, boy. Lean back and get your hair wet so I can shampoo your hair.” Gabriel presses against my chest to tilt me backwards.

I let him.

I lean back, and back, not just getting my hair wet but submerging myself in the tub.

He holds my body to prevent me from going too far under. I am cradled in the warm water, and I think?—

This is a baptism.

I can never go back to my old life.

Even if I return to Father Zachariah and Eve, even if I somehow manage to avoid Gabriel, I’m forever changed.

I’m not sure if I’m falling or flying.

Only once my lungs start burning, and Gabriel pushes against my back, do I raise my head out of the water again.

“‘ Be baptized and wash away your sins ,’” I murmur, mostly to myself.

“ When you pass through the waters, I will be with you ,” Gabriel replies, kissing my bare shoulder.

I press my nails into my thigh to prevent myself from grabbing my erection instead. Gabriel shifts the ottoman so he’s behind me, then pours shampoo onto my head.

The shampoo is different from what I’m used to, and while the scent is strong, it isn’t overpowering. I don’t know what scent it is, but it’s pleasant, piney and… something else. The conditioner is no different, and he helps me sit back up when he’s done.

I blink a few times to clear the water from my vision, then I look up at him in a haze. Everything is fuzzy around the edges, but I feel different.

I feel clean.

Where do I go from here, when my savior is a killer and I’ve been baptized into a new life that I know is forever entangled with his?

“Come on, boy,” Gabriel murmurs. “Let Daddy take you to bed—and take care of what I know has been bothering you since before the bath started.”

I freeze. “It would be an abomination,” I say, but my voice is weak. My conviction is weak.

I want him to take care of me.

I want him to touch me.

Gabriel scoffs at me. “What isn’t an abomination?”

There are only seven, I want to protest. Seven things.

But he’s right. They encompass so much.

I cling to my last shred of conviction. “Father Zachariah says?—”

Gabriel’s expression turns stern. “He isn’t your Daddy. I am. So listen to me, and let me give you all the pleasure you deserve.”

I’ve never had a dad . I’ve only had a Father, and certainly never a Daddy .

And I want to know the difference between them so badly it aches.

“Yes, Daddy,” I whisper.

The words feel right on my tongue.

“Good boy,” Gabriel answers, pulling me close for another kiss.

I surrender to it, surrender to him, and I’m breathless by the time he releases me. He helps me out of the bathtub, and I’m as shaky as a newborn colt.

It doesn’t feel like it’s in a bad way. It feels like being reborn has taken its toll, but Gabriel will fill that emptiness with attention and praise.

He’ll care for me.

Why am I disappointed that it won’t include bloodshed of my own?