Page 8 of Drag You Down (Bloody Desires #2)

I shake my head and try once more to get away from him. This time he wraps an arm around my back to stop me, and I cry out in pain as he puts pressure on my healing wounds.

He releases me, but before I have time to feel relieved, he’s spinning me around. The air hits the healing lashes as he tugs my shirt up, and I whimper as the cloth rubs against the ones higher on my back.

When he speaks, his voice is shaking with what I think is fury. “Who touched you? Who touched what’s mine ?”

“I’m not—” I try to step away from him, but he grips my shoulder tightly. “I took penance. Because of the fire alarm.” I try to glare at him. “So it was your fault.”

“You took penance for something you didn’t do,” he states. Even in its darkness, even in its anger, his face is still beautiful. “Who punished you, Levi?” He lets out a dark laugh. “Who do I need to fucking kill?”

The vehemence of his words startles me.

Nobody has ever been so upset on my behalf.

But they terrify me too, because nothing about his demeanor makes me believe he’s bluffing.

He really wants to kill Father Zachariah, all for taking a whip to my back.

I wonder what his reaction would be if he knew that this is the penance I prefer, the one that gets me hard.

“No!” I struggle against him, which only makes my back hurt more, makes the pain spread out and fuzz up my mind. “It was right! I’m the reason you were even there. Why should somebody else be blamed for it?”

“I don’t care about ‘somebody else.’” He grips my shoulder more tightly. “I care about you .”

“Why do you care?” I demand. “You don’t know me! I’m a single, corruptible soul in this sea of sinners.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he says intently. “You’re so much more than that. I see the yearning in your heart for something more, something better, and I will be the one to give it to you.”

I try to shake my head, to deny it.

But it’s another lie, one I’ve been repeating to myself for longer than I can even remember.

I do yearn.

I do want.

I do wish.

“I can’t have that,” I say unevenly. “That’s not my place in the world.”

“Your place in the world is anywhere you wish,” he replies, every bit as confident as I’m uncertain. “As long as you’re at my side, you can do anything you want. You’re my boy, and I’ll take care of you and give you everything you could ever desire.”

The idea of having choices is so foreign to me.

My life is already decided for me. I’m going to support Eve and help care for her future children.

I’m going to protect our small congregation.

I’ll do as Father Zachariah asks, I’ll take my penance, and day in and out, I’ll simply watch over the others.

What would it feel like to have somebody take care of me for once, to have somebody want to give me presents and pamper me?

“You’re presenting a… a fantasy,” I say. “Something not real.”

Something terrifying.

“It can be real,” he says, his other hand coming up to rest on my opposite shoulder. “You don’t deserve to be afraid, to be miserable, to be hurt .” His expression flashes with something dark and cold. “You deserve love and tenderness and for someone to take care of you.”

My face heats up.

The only person who ever touches me is Eve, and even she limits how much she does that.

Sometimes I wonder if I enjoy penance so much because it forces another person to pay attention to me, to patch me up.

Gabriel isn’t the right person for it. I know that. He’s worse than the people out in the city. I saw how he looked at that dying man; I’ve seen the darkness and the hunger in his eyes.

But he’s also the first person to look at me at all.

He’s the only person who wants to be close to me.

“Please,” I whisper, and again I’m not sure what I’m asking for.

“I’ll take care of you, little lamb,” he murmurs back, his voice tender. Then he’s leaning in, and his lips are pressing against mine as he kisses me again. It’s dangerous and terrible and arousing and perfect all at once, and it makes me feel like I’m flying.

There’s no blood on our lips this time, but I smell the copper all the same, and it only makes my blood pump faster. I flex my back, but the pain is nothing compared to this kiss.

His tongue runs gently over my lips, and he says, “Open for me, little lamb.”

I don’t hesitate. I part my lips for him, and his tongue slides inside my mouth.

This should be off-putting, filthy, but I moan into it and lose myself in that strange, wonderful sensation.

His grasp relaxes on my shoulders, and he starts to slide one of his hands down to my back before pausing. It’s almost enough to break the fantasy of the moment, but then he’s kissing me harder, and it’s all I can focus on.

“You are perfect,” he murmurs against my lips as he draws back to allow us both to take in a breath.

I’m not perfect. If I were perfect, I wouldn’t be here, kissing the Devil.

But I want it to be true. I want somebody to look at me and not see all my failings. I want somebody who doesn’t tell me my soul is dirty.

“I don’t want to think,” I admit.

“Don’t think,” he urges. “Feel.” He cups my cheek and kisses me again. “There’s nothing wrong with desire, my lamb.”

I lean into the kiss and reach out to clutch his shirt. My hips thrust against him.

I feel something hard press against my own rising cock.

I freeze and break the kiss.

“Shh,” Gabriel murmurs, trying to draw me back, but I know what I felt.

I look down, and there, between our bodies, I can see the tent in his trousers, one to match my own.

What would it feel like to have our naked cocks sliding against each other? How much better would it feel, when it isn’t my own hand I grind against?

“No,” I say, letting go of him. “No, I… I can’t. This isn’t right. Father Zachariah says?—”

“You don’t need that mockery of a ‘Father,’” he replies. “You need something more.” He meets my eyes, and his are so dark and intent that I try to shrink back. “You need a Daddy . You need me .”

“I don’t!” I shout, and I shove him hard. He stumbles back a single step, but it’s enough that I can get out of his embrace, get out of his dangerous aura.

The Devil, the Devil.

“Little lamb!” Gabriel shouts. “Levi. Stop.”

I frantically pick up my empty bags and jog to the exit of the courtyard. “Leave me alone, demon! My soul isn’t for you!”

I shimmy through the opening between buildings, and I hear Gabriel call out for me. Once I’m back on the main street, his voice disappears, drowned out by the bustle of the city.

The word “Daddy” reverberates in my mind, over and over, and I hate how it makes my cock take interest.

I can’t believe I almost fell for it. The Devil dangled temptation in front of me, and I almost accepted.

I need to talk to Father Zachariah.

I need to cleanse my soul.