Page 122 of The Truths We Burn

“Because all you are is a treacherous fucking poison. I trusted you, and look what that fucking did.”

Do not let her do this to you again, Rook. Don’t fall for this.It’s a fucking trick.Pretty poison—it’s the venom that’s still pumping in your veins.

I take her fragile neck in my grasp, using the leverage to forcefully jerk her closer to me.Her scent gets all up close and personal with my nose, making it tingle. I press my waist into hers, feeling just how soft she is against me. Feeling just how easy she would be to break.

My cock stiffens, straining against my jeans.

I’d once thought she felt angelic in my arms. An angel that had wandered too far from home and found herself in the clutches of something sinister.

Now, she just feels like a sin.

The sin.

Primal, hot, and immoral.

This is the one thing I’ve been depriving my body of for a year now. Refusing the temptation, punishing myself for what’s directly in front of me now. And I don’t know how I’m going to stay in control.

“I never lied to you, Rook. Not in the way you think.” She gasps for air against my grip. “I wanted you to keep—”

“The lowest, blackest, and farthest from Heaven,” I interrupt her, tightening my fingers so she’ll shut up. “That’s where traitors go. Did you know that? That’s where I’m going to fucking send you.”

I don’t want to hear her excuses. I don’t want to hear any more lies.

It’s my turn to make her hurt. It’s her turn to be punished.

“Traitorous sluts like you deserve to be punished,” I snarl, my hand moving up to her face, forcing her lips to pucker as my fingers dig into her cheeks.

“You sound awfully fucking sanctimonious for a man they call Lucifer. Aren’t you supposed to reward sin?” she quips, her voice thick and sticky like cough syrup, leaving me bitter.

Fighting me just like I want her to.

I don’t want her to already be broken. I want her to be a fucking fighter so that it feels even better when I make a mess of her.

My belt digs into the soft flesh of her stomach as I take my free hand, palming her ass, causing that short, short denim skirt to rise up. My fingers inch in between her legs, hovering over her pussy just above her panties.

The heat that radiates between her legs makes my knees fucking weak.

“No, Sage, this is my hell. My kingdom. My fucking rules. I reward good little whores only.”

Just like I knew she would, she pants, opening her mouth. I spit directly on her pink tongue, using my hand on her face to close her jaw shut so she is forced to swallow it.

My lips crash with hers, desire pooling in my gut. It’s all teeth and tongue. Her venom tastes sweet, too fucking sweet. She pushes against me, moving her mouth against my own, meeting my feral hunger.

I pour all my loathing into it, curing her with my tongue, damning her with my mouth. I bite down hard on her bottom lip, pulling it out barely as I bring my hand up from between her thighs, showering her with the juices that stick to my skin.

“Fucking pathetic. Look how wet you are. How long have you been thinking about this? About me?”

Her face heats up, cheeks bright with a mixture of pleasure and embarrassment.

I drop my hand from her face to the front of her low-cut shirt, grabbing a hold of the material and yanking it down. The tearing of fabric echoes in the air, and I’m left staring at her milky tits that are spilling over her black bra.

My head falls, and I inhale deeply, filling my lungs with her smell. I trail one long, slow lick from the valley of her breasts to the scar that runs along her collarbone. The matching one on my body starts to throb.

One year of depriving myself of this, and now the forbidden fruit is melting in my hands. All I can think about is feasting. My self-control is nonexistent at this point.

I rotate her body, spinning her around and pinning her front against the confessional. She reaches up and grabs the wooden bars that separate the two booths. I use both of my hands to lift her skirt, shoving it up her waist until her entire backside is visible.

“Rook…” she breathes.