Prologue
Sinner
I t's been months since we left Georgia behind.
We're on the hunt for a bigger and greater demon.
Father Guzman
But it’s been a pain in the ass trying to find him. It’s like he’s dropped off the face of the earth, but I know better. I know the man better than anyone, better than I know myself. He would stop at nothing to get me back. There’s only one problem: not only has Father Guzman gone MIA, but there have also been multiple very public crucifixions of women. If I didn’t know better, I’d say it’s the Church of Eden. All these women remind me of Zia—they’ve been beaten, raped, and branded with the word "Jezebel" written in blood across their bodies. We’ve been working around the clock, trying to figure out who’s behind it all.
Moments like this, when it’s just her and me, feel like small luxuries.
“Matheo, you, okay?” Marisol whispers, tracing soft patterns on the tattoos on my chest with her fingers. Her touch pulls me from the spiral of my thoughts. I inhale deeply, pulling her naked body closer, her warmth anchoring me to the present.
“More than okay,” I murmur, my hand brushing down the curve of her spine. “Just thinking.” I never hide anything from her. My little sinner deserves every part of me, and that includes the chaos in my head.
“You promised," she teases, her voice soft yet firm as she trails her hand lower and lower. “No work today. Just us.” Her fingers wrap around my half-hard cock, stroking it slowly, deliberately. “So, tell me... what are you thinking about?” she asks, her thumb circling the tip. A soft groan escapes my lips, my body reacting to her touch as I grab her ass and knead it in my hand.
“I was thinking... it could be the Church of Eden,” I say, my voice strained, fighting the distraction of her touch. The moment I say it, her movements still, her brow furrows as she looks at me.
“It couldn’t be,” she says, her hand still wrapped around my cock, but her focus shifts to the conversation. “Gabriel wanted expansion, sure, but I don’t think he got that far into his plans before he died.”
My hand trails up her back, fingers tracing the smooth skin until I cup the back of her neck, pulling her closer until our bodies are flush. “Is that what has you so distracted? The idea it could be them?” she asks, her voice dipping lower, more serious. But instead of pulling away, she straddles me, her wet heat teasing the length of my hard cock as she grinds against me.
I grip her hips, my fingers digging into her skin as my cock twitches beneath her. She’s soaked, ready, and my patience is hanging by a thread. “I think... we’re missing something,” I manage to say through clenched teeth as she rolls her hips in slow, torturous circles, teasing me .
“What about going back to Taos?” she whispers, gripping my cock and lining it up with her entrance, her breath catching as she slowly sinks down onto me. I hiss at the contact, my hands gripping her tighter.
“Go back to Taos?” I growl, my voice rough as I feel her tight warmth engulfing me inch by inch.
“Yes…” she moans, her eyes closing as she takes all of me.
I thrust deeper into her, matching the slow rhythm she’s set, and a smirk spreads across my face as I watch her move. “Yeah... I think that’s a good idea,” I murmur, my words hitching in my throat as I watch her ride me. She looks fucking divine—her caramel skin glowing in the soft light of dawn, wild curls framing her face like a halo as she grinds down onto me. Her hands cup her breasts, squeezing them as she moans. She’s unholy and pure, all in one, and I feel my control slipping with every roll of her hips.
“Fuck... little sinner,” I groan, gripping her hips harder, my body moving in sync with hers, thrusting up as she rides me.
“Yes, Matheo... give me salvation,” she breathes, her voice a soft, sinful plea.
The words push me over the edge. I grab her and flip us over in one swift motion so I’m hovering over her. Her legs instinctively wrap around my waist as I push deeper inside her, driving my cock as far as I can go. My thrusts are fast, relentless, and each one earns me another gasp, another moan from her beautiful lips. "Oh God..." she moans, her voice breathless and broken.
I lean down, biting her nipple hard enough to make her eyes snap open. “It's not God worshiping you, little demon. It's me, your sinner, damning you to pleasure,” I growl against her skin, the words punctuated by the hard thrusts of my hips .
Her moans turn into gasps, each one more desperate than the last as her body tenses beneath mine. Her hands claw at my back, nails digging in, leaving burning trails of fire in their wake. “Damn me then,” she whispers, her voice shaking with pleasure. “Damn me, you filthy priest.”
A dark chuckle rumbles in my chest, and I lean down, biting her lower lip as I thrust harder. “I will, little demon. I will.”
The heat in my belly coils tighter, like a snake ready to strike, and I feel myself teetering on the edge. Her body convulses beneath me, her pussy tightening around my cock like a vice. “Yes, Matheo... yes!” she cries out, her voice hoarse with pleasure as her orgasm hits her like a storm. Her body trembles, her eyes roll back, and I feel her walls pulsing around me, milking me for all I have.
Her release triggers mine, and with a guttural growl, I spill myself inside her. My vision whites out, the world fading until all that’s left is her—her moans, her warmth, her scent. We ride the wave of pleasure together, lost in each other.
When the haze of pleasure fades, I collapse onto her, both of us breathing hard, our bodies slick with sweat. I press a kiss to her forehead, feeling her heartbeat slowly return to normal beneath me. “I’ll fall from grace again and again for you,” I murmur against her skin, my voice soft now.
She is my personal purgatory—my sweet, damned little angel—and I will gladly be her sinner for eternity.