Page 24 of Unholy Vows

Layla

I t was official. There was something wrong with me.

Malachai had admitted to being a psychopathic killer, and instead of getting the hell away from him and calling the cops, I dropped to my knees in front of him.

If I were being honest with myself, I don’t think it would have made a difference what his reasons were for killing the people he had.

It only mattered that he was doing it. Despite how fucked up the whole situation was, a singular thought kept replaying on a loop as I made my way over to the church.

What if someone had killed the man who assaulted me before I had ever encountered him? I would have escaped the trauma that followed. And it was likely that others would have too because I was certain I wasn’t the only one he hurt.

And now here stood Malachai, an angel of death, ready to do just that.

He jerked down his zipper and roughly tugged his erect cock free from the confines of his jeans, reclaiming my attention. My tongue darted out, wetting my lips in anticipation.

“Open,” Malachai commanded.

My eyes rose to meet his. “I haven’t confessed yet.”

Malachai’s grin was all predator.

“Oh, Little Sinner, you don’t need to say the words for me to know your every sin. Your face shows all the twisted thoughts swirling in your mind right now.”

I pressed my thighs together because, damn him, he was right.

“Open,” he repeated.

This time, I didn’t hesitate. I opened my mouth wide and stuck out my tongue. Malachai groaned as he fisted his cock above me. A bead of pre-come glistened on the tip, and I leaned forward, tasting it.

Malachai’s eyes darkened, and a dangerous glint sparked to life within his cerulean gaze. I swallowed roughly. I’d just incited a predator, and the look he gave me told me I may have bitten off more than I could chew.

Malachai drove his hand into my hair as he gathered the loose strands around his fist. Then, without warning, he slammed his cock past my lips until the head nudged the back of my throat.

I gagged on his length as my throat tightened, working to expel the intrusion. Tears sprang to my eyes, and I fought to suck in a breath. Drool pooled inside my mouth, and my cheeks burned as I struggled in vain to keep it from spilling down my chin.

“Fuck, baby,” Malachai growled. “The sound of you choking on my cock is the sweetest melody.”

The man was a sadist.

He tightened his grip on my hair and pulled out far enough for me to inhale. Then he thrust his hips forward, making me choke all over again.

“Fuck! That sound.”

His thrusts turned rhythmic as he set a demanding pace. I flattened my tongue against the underside of his cock as I attempted to keep up, but my efforts were futile.

Malachai didn’t want me to pleasure him. He wanted to take his pleasure from me.

“Relax your throat. I want you to be so full of me that it’s the only thing you can taste for a week.”

When he snapped his hips forward once more, I concentrated on opening myself up to him. My body’s instinct was to gag, but I forced myself to relax as he instructed.

“Yes! Fuck. Just like that, baby.”

I reveled in his praise, and I felt myself growing wet. My thighs pressed together seeking friction, but it wasn’t enough. I dipped my fingers below the waistband of my jeans, but before I could ease the mounting ache, he ripped my hand away.

“That’s fucking mine!” Malachai snarled. “And I didn’t give you permission to touch my pussy.”

His words had liquid heat pooling at the apex of my thighs, and I whimpered around him, unable to do anything to soothe the steady throb building there.

My heart thundered erratically as Malachai glared down at me.

He dropped my wrist and then tangled his free hand in my hair as he held my head in place.

He fucked my mouth like he hated me.

Like he was imagining every way he could make me suffer. And for reasons unknown to me, I fucking loved it. I had never been so turned on in my life. The way he used me as an object for his pleasure made my pulse hammer and my blood heat.

Malachai groaned, and a moment later, a salty taste erupted over my tongue.

I swallowed instinctively, and Malachai’s gaze grew feral.

His eyes became dark pools of endless night, and all trace of his blue irises disappeared.

His lips lifted in a sneer, and he looked like he wanted to tear me to shreds before devouring me.

“That’s it, Little Sinner. Swallow your absolution.”

Malachai fisted his cock, ringing every last drop of his release onto my tongue. When he was finally satisfied, he stepped back, and his cock slipped free of my mouth with a pop .

He stared at me so long, I squirmed in place, unable to take the intense heat of his gaze. I was about to rise to my feet when Malachai leaned down and traced his thumb over my bottom lip. He gathered the drop of come that had spilled free before he pushed it into my mouth.

“Suck,” he commanded, and I obeyed.

Malachai’s eyes never left mine as I sucked the digit clean. Then he slipped his index finger inside my mouth and parted my lips as he spread his fingers wide.

“This fucking mouth,” he whispered, almost reverently.

Then he retracted his fingers and wiped my saliva over my cheeks.

Offering me his other hand, he pulled me to my feet.

I inhaled a shaky breath as his arms wrapped around me.

Tension crackled between us as Malachai observed me in that unnerving way of his that made me feel like he could see all the way to my soul.

Just when I thought he was about to kiss me, he stepped back, creating space between us. Not knowing what else to do, I awkwardly patted my hair, smoothing it out as I worked to fix the mess Malachai had made.

“Well, I’ll be leaving then…” I trailed off, pointing toward the door.

A slow smile spread across Malachai’s face, and he clicked his tongue.

“You’re not going anywhere, Little Sinner.”

Malachai closed the distance between us with deadly intent, every movement exuding the precision of a true apex predator.

“What are you —”

My question died on my tongue as Malachai’s hands shot out, rough and possessive, lifting me effortlessly onto the altar standing in the heart of the sanctuary.

My breath caught in my throat as he yanked my jeans down, the fabric tearing as he exposed me to his hungry, unwavering gaze.

The cold marble beneath me was unforgiving, but it was nothing compared to the heat in his eyes, as if he could consume me whole with just one glance.

My pulse raced, both from fear and the raw intensity of his presence.

Every inch of my skin felt like it was burning, and yet, I couldn’t look away.

“I warned you,” he said, a rough edge coloring his tone. “I told you it would be you who was devoured.”

It took a moment for me to recall our first discussion in the chatroom, but a second later, all thoughts faded away as Malachai’s mouth descended on me.