24. Chapter 23
Chapter 23
Eden
W hoever invented heels clearly didn’t consider how humiliating it is to walk down a dark sidewalk in the middle of the night, constantly pulling down your skirt as trick-or-treaters pass by.
My feet burn with each step, but I keep going, my phone turned off to prevent anyone from tracking me. Zoey and Aiden didn’t have time to follow me, so the first block felt like a marathon, and now the final block feels like it’s stretching on forever.
When I finally see Roman’s house, candles flicker in the windows, casting a warm glow. Two cars are parked in the driveway—his 4Runner and a car I don’t recognize.
The door is slightly ajar, which is odd because Roman is always so careful about locking up.
I step inside quietly, the candles providing the only light. The rich aroma of food fills the air, drawing my eyes to the dining table, which is set for two, fresh roses in the center, surrounded by candles. Food sits on the oven, some Chinese takeout from the looks of the to-go containers.
Is this for our date?
A smile tugs at my lips, but it quickly fades when I hear a loud thud, followed by Roman’s angry voice.
“Wrong fucking answer,” He hisses, followed by a deep, stifled groan of pain.
My heart races as I inch forward silently.
“Let’s try this again,” Roman’s voice promises violence as he continues to speak. “What the fuck does David Faulkner know about Eden and me? And what should I know about that little shit Luca?”
Another scream tears through the air, and I freeze outside the door, steeling myself for what I’m about to see.
I push the door open slightly, and Seth’s eyes lock onto mine. My hand flies to my mouth to stifle a scream.
Roman stands over Seth, a knife in his hand dripping with blood. Seth is sprawled on a plastic tarp, his hands bound and his mouth covered with tape, open wounds scattered over his flesh.
Jesus Christ.
Roman’s ring and cross sit on a nearby desk, next to a glass of scotch, but it looks untouched.
“Did I say you could look away from me?” Roman snaps, grabbing Seth’s chin and forcing him to look back at him. He’s too focused on Seth to notice me yet.
“If I rip this tape off your mouth again, you better tell me everything you know, and next time I tell you to come over, you better not give me any fucking lip. ”
He rips the tape from Seth’s mouth, and Seth gasps for air, his eyes pleading with me.
“Eden,” Seth wheezes, his voice strained. “Please, call for help.”
Roman finally notices me, his eyes widening as he takes in what I’m wearing. His gaze travels from my eyes to the teeth marks on my breast and back up to the smeared makeup on my face.
“Why are you here, Seth?” I ask, my voice cold and detached.
“Father Briar is insane, please, my sweet Eden—”
“Don’t fucking call her that,” Roman snaps, pressing his foot into Seth’s chest, keeping him pinned down. “You nasty fucking pig.”
“He’s here,” Roman starts, his voice laced with contempt, “to tell me about your father and that shit stain Luca.”
“I don’t know anything about the kid,” Seth stammers, “and I’ve told you everything I know about David. I’ll tell you more once I find out, but please, Eden, get him off me—”
Blinded by rage, I slam the heel of my stiletto into Seth’s hand, twisting it into his palm as he screams. I grab the knife from Roman, and for a moment, he looks as shocked as I feel.
“That’s for Zoey,” I hiss, slashing a light, straight line down Seth’s thigh. He winces, and I deliver a hard slap to his face.
Roman watches in silence as I step back from Seth, the knife trembling in my grip. I hand it back to Roman, but my heart is still pounding, a mixture of adrenaline and an unsettling shadow within me. The side of me that I’ve fought so hard to bury—the side that craves control, that hungers for vengeance—has broken through, shattering the carefully constructed fa?ade I’ve maintained for so long.
The blade felt like an extension of my anger, a way to reclaim the control that was stolen from me. After what happened in college, after my father’s suffocating grip on my life, this is the first time I’ve held power in my hands. It’s intoxicating and terrifying, yet I can’t deny the satisfaction that lingers in the aftermath.
But beneath it all, there’s a wound that still festers, a deep need for justice, for retribution. I’m a woman scorned, and the rage that burns within me is far from quenched. It demands more, whispers that this small act of violence isn’t enough to satisfy the storm inside me.
As I move away from Seth, a part of me wonders if I’ll ever be able to put this side of myself back into the box where I’ve kept it hidden. But another part, the part that just tasted the thrill of control, isn’t sure it wants to.
“Do what you will with him, Father,” I whisper, leaning close to Roman’s ear. “I’ll be in the bedroom.”
Without another word, I leave the room, nudging the door shut behind me as I make my way to Roman’s bedroom.
After thirty minutes of waiting, I finally settled into Roman’s bed, sprawling across the clean sheets with my heels still on, my stomach pressed to the soft mattress. I conceal my face with the veil, my sides aching from where Luca grabbed me too hard. I turn my phone on and toss it on the nightstand, listening to the sound of Seth’s grunting as he moves down the hallway. The front door slams, and I roll onto my elbows, peering at the door as Roman enters, his eyes devouring the sight of me in the raunchy costume. He adjusts the front of his pants, his stare both brooding and craving.
“Eden,” He whispers, taking a step toward the bed. “I told you to wait there. I told you not to leave.”
“I know,” I challenge, pressing my stiletto to his chest, stopping him from coming any closer. “I didn’t listen.”
His hand trails up my fishnet stockings, stopping at my thighs. “What the hell are you wearing?” He asks, the virgin white of the attire almost comedic given the circumstances.
I arch an eyebrow, a sly smile playing on my lips. "A little something to test your faith, Father. Do you think you're strong enough to resist?" I taunt, pushing his hands away from my thighs as I sit up on my knees, much like I would during Mass.
“Tell me, Father, have you ever fucked a nun?” I tease, my hand grazing his hardened length, feeling his jaw clench.
“What the hell are you doing to me, Eden?” He mutters, genuinely seeking an answer as his hands graze my ass, pulling me closer until I’m leaning into his chest with my arms wrapped around his neck.
I lock eyes with him, watching his gaze drop to my breasts.
“Were you going to kill Seth?” I ask, his head shaking slowly.
“No,” He whispers, gripping my chin. “Were you?”
“Maybe,” I admit, my voice soft. “Depends on how angry he made me.”
Roman’s thumb and pointer finger move from my chin, trailing down my neck until they settle on the bite mark Luca left on my breast .
“Did he do that?” Roman asks, his voice laced with restrained fury.
“He wrapped his hands around me,” I whisper, guiding Roman’s hands down my sides. “Dug his fingers into my skin while he kissed me. Then he bit me. I called you right after.”
“Lie down.”
“Roman—”
“Lie down, Eden, before I leave this house and tear him apart. Just lie down and let me touch you.”
Obeying his command, I let my back hit the mattress, watching as Roman slowly unbuttons his shirt, each flick of his fingers deliberate as he makes his way down.
“Tonight, Eden, another man touched you,” Roman whispers, his eyes raking over the costume. “Another man felt you,” He adds, tugging at his belt and dragging down his fly. He grabs one of the chairs in the corner of his room and sets it in the middle of the floor, and takes a seat. His cock strains against his underwear, and my eyes marvel at his gorgeous body.
“Strip off your clothes,” He demands, pointing to the spot before him. “Now.”
I hesitate, but the intensity in his eyes leaves no room for doubt. Slowly, I slide off the bed, standing before him as my fingers move to the veil on my head. I pull it off, letting it drop to the floor, feeling a strange mix of vulnerability and power under his gaze.
Next, I reach for the fishnet stockings, peeling them down my legs with deliberate slowness, savoring the way his eyes darken with each inch of skin revealed. The thin dress is the last to go, sliding off my shoulders and pooling at my feet, leaving me in nothing but my lace underwear.
Roman’s breath hitches, his eyes roaming over my body, taking in every curve, every inch of exposed skin. There’s something possessive in his gaze, something that makes my pulse quicken with both fear and anticipation.
“Turn around,” He orders, his voice low and commanding.
I do as he says, turning my back to him, feeling the weight of his eyes on me. For a moment, there’s nothing but silence, then I feel his hands on my waist, warm and firm, guiding me back onto the bed. He presses me down onto the mattress, his breath hot against my ear as he leans over me.
“Tonight, Eden,” He whispers, “you’re mine.”
His hands move with a mixture of reverence and need as he explores my body, fingers tracing the lines of my spine, the curve of my hips. Every touch ignites a fire inside me, a reminder that in this moment, I belong to him, and only him.
His hands travel lower, pulling off the lace underwear and leaving me completely bare beneath him. I can feel the tension building between us, the anticipation hanging thick in the air.
“Do you trust me, Eden?” He murmurs, his lips brushing against my shoulder.
“Yes,” I breathe, my voice trembling with the weight of the moment.
“Good,” He replies, his voice a mix of promise and warning. “Because tonight, I’m going to show you just how much you mean to me.”
His hands grip my hips, positioning me exactly where he wants me, his touch possessive and unyielding. There’s no turning back now. No more room for doubt. It’s just the two of us, lost in the heat of the moment, the rest of the world forgotten.
He takes his time, savoring every inch of me, every gasp and moan that escapes my lips. As the tension between us builds to a fever pitch, I realize that this moment is about more than just physical desire—it’s about power, control, and the undeniable connection that binds us together.
“Look at me, Eden,” He whispers, and I turn my head to meet his gaze, his eyes intense and focused, filled with something that feels dangerously close to worship.
“Whatever happens next,” He says, his voice low and steady, “remember that you belong to me.”
I slide off the bed, letting my legs drape off the side as I watch him, adrenaline coursing through my veins. “What are you going to do to me, Roman?” I ask, nerves sending goosebumps down my spine.
“I’m going to fuck you, Eden,” He states, his gaze intense. “And you’re going to take it like a good fucking girl.”
Nodding his head, he motions me closer. “Now, come here, Angel.”
My heels click against the floor as I cautiously approach him, my earlier boldness wavering. “And Seth?” I ask, now mere inches from him.
“He won’t say a word, baby. Now, let me see it all.”
Swallowing hard, I focus on Roman’s steady gaze and his empty ring finger. I raise my leg, placing my stiletto on his thigh, and slowly slip it off, sliding my stocking off before moving to the other foot. I repeat the process, turning around and bending over to drag the other stocking and my underwear down in one smooth motion, offering Roman a view to test his restraint. When I turn back to face him, his hand is already fisting his cock through his underwear, his eyes consuming every inch of me.
“Should I keep going, Father?” I ask, my voice dripping with provocation.
“Keep going, Eden,” He commands, his voice authoritative. “Do exactly as I say.”
I inch closer, gripping the sides of the chair near his head. “How I see it, Roman, your cock is straining against your boxers, desperate to be buried inside me. So, Roman, tell me, who’s really in control –”
My words are cut off as Roman grabs me, shoving me onto the bed, and slaps my ass. I gasp, a mix of pain and relief coursing through me as he undoes my bra, finally freeing my aching breasts. His hands are surprisingly gentle as he cups my sides, careful of the bruises, before flipping me onto my back. He kicks off his underwear, his gaze devouring me as if I were a feast laid out just for him.
His fingers slide between my legs, finding me already slick with need. He covers my mouth as he plunges two fingers deep inside me. The force of his thrusts makes my breasts bounce, and I bite down on his hand to stifle the moans that threaten to escape as he curls his fingers inside me.
“You like taking me like this, Angel?” He murmurs, his voice dark and intoxicating. “Or would you rather it be my cock that fills you up?” He taunts, his words sending shivers down my spine.
He pulls his fingers away, moving toward one of the candles lit on his dresser, the flames flickering in the dim light .
“I was going to treat you to dinner. Be a proper gentleman,” He whispers, grabbing the candle. “But then you showed up wearing that, so full of violence... You’ve earned what I’m about to do to you.”
Setting the candle on the nightstand, he flips me onto my stomach again, the sound of his pants dropping both thrilling and unnerving.
“Raise your hips for me, Angel,” He mutters, guiding me onto my hands and knees. “If you scream, I’ll drip this wax down your back and only go harder,” He warns, his tip now running teasingly along my folds.
He rubs his tip against my entrance, and a needy whimper escapes me. Roman raises his brows, just as shocked at the noise as I am.
“Did you just whimper for my cock?”
“Yes, Father,” I whisper.
I grip the sheets, biting back the moan of pleasure as he starts easing himself inside me.
“Three inches,” He whispers, pushing his hips forward, sliding through the wetness, my pussy gripping him, urging him in deeper.
“Six,” He pushes, the sensation of him filling me sending chills down my spine.
Holy hell, how much of this can I take?
He pauses, moaning next to my ear, the sound coaxing me to spread my legs wider for him.
“You’re doing so good,” He praises, pushing farther. “Seven, eight—” He continues, and my stomach feels like he’s buried himself completely within me. “One more,” He whispers, my teeth sinking into the sheets. He makes one final thrust, his lower stomach pressing against my ass as he buries himself fully inside me.
“Do you feel how well your pretty pussy is taking my—”
An uncontrolled scream of pleasure escapes me. He pauses.
Fuck.
“I told you what would happen if you screamed, Eden,” He growls.
Hot wax drips down my spine, and I arch my back, hissing at the sharp, stinging sensation. Roman smacks my ass, and his hips thrust aggressively, driving into me so hard that the air is knocked from my chest. He winds my hair around his fist, forcing me upright as he grabs my wrists with his other hand, holding them behind my back. His cock pounds into me relentlessly, my legs on the verge of giving out.
Roman groans, my wetness dripping down my inner thighs, my voice reduced to breathy gasps. “Just like that, Eden. Take my cock like a good girl. This is what God desires, every sin, every surrender, give yourself to the pleasure He’s ordained for you.”
He releases my hair, and I slump forward, his hands still holding my wrists behind my back.
“Roman,” I moan, my voice filled with desperate need.
“Louder, let everyone hear it.”
“Fucking Roman,” I scream, the pleasure mounting as I feel him hit deeper inside me.
“Who’s fucking you, Eden?” He questions, the warmth in my stomach growing unbearable.
“You are,” I gasp, looking back at him, my hair sticking to my lipstick .
“And whose pretty pussy is going to be filled with my cum?” he groans, the twitch of his cock igniting something deep inside me.
“Mine,” I hiss. “Fucking mine—”
His release fills me, his hands clutching my hips as we both become a mess of inaudible moans. Roman continues to rock his hips, drawing out the sensation, until he slowly pulls out of me, letting me flip onto my back. His eyes devour the sight of me sprawled on his bed, his cum gently spilling from my center.
Roman runs a finger over my folds, marveling at his work before taking a seat on the bed. His hand moves to his still-hard cock.
“Roman—”
“You’re not done, beautiful. Come get in my lap and ride me,” He demands, his voice low and commanding.
I comply, dragging myself over to him, wrapping my arms around his neck as he carefully guides me onto his lap, his cock sliding back inside me. His hands push my hips down, making me take all of him in one quick motion.
“Just like that, Angel,” He whispers, our foreheads pressed together. “Now keep rocking those hips—”
We’re both startled as my phone’s ringtone cuts through the air. I glance at the nightstand, seeing Zoey’s face on the screen. Roman reaches over and grabs the phone, keeping himself buried in me.
When I move to get off him, he forces me back down, placing the phone in my hand.
“Answer it,” He whispers. “And talk to her while you’re riding my cock. ”
A million thoughts race through my mind, but I press the answer button and put the phone on speaker.
“H-Hello—” I stammer, trying to keep my voice steady as Roman rocks my hips for me. The restraint it takes to hold back my moan nearly drives me insane.
“Thank God, Eden. Aiden and I have been so worried. Fucking Luca vomited all over the lawn and was a sobbing mess. Where are you—”
“Is that Eden?” Luca yells in the background, his words slurring.
Roman’s grasp tightens. His mouth gravitates toward my breasts.
“Get your fucking hands off my phone—”
“Eden?” Luca’s voice is filled with regret and confusion, but I can barely focus on it as Roman’s tongue swirls over my nipple and then sucks the delicate skin into his mouth.
“Mmm-mhm,” I force out, my voice betraying a mix of a moan.
“Oh, Jesus, Eden, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me when I touched you like that—”
Roman bites my nipple, and I let out a gasp, leaning into him as my legs shake uncontrollably.
“Keep going,” Roman whispers, guiding my hips as he moves his mouth to the other breast, his hand massaging the one he’d bitten.
“You’re a fucking a-asshole, Luca,” I whisper, marveling at the sight of Roman dragging his tongue across my skin. “I don’t need you—”
“Where are you, Eden—”
“Someplace I should have been all along,” I whisper. “Lose my fucking number.”
“Wait, Eden—” Luca’s voice pleads, but I end the call and toss the phone to the floor. I grab Roman’s chin, pulling him away from my breasts, and latch my lips to his, devouring him in a hungry kiss.
“Did you mean what you said?” He questions between kisses. “Do you feel like you should have been here with me all along?”
Pausing, I press my forehead to his, our breaths mingling.
“What does it mean if I say no?” I ask, his voice shaky.
“That this is... this is purely physical. Emotions aren’t involved.”
“And if I say yes?”
“Then things are much more complicated than I could have anticipated.”
I stare into his eyes, the intensity between us palpable.
“Then things are complicated, Roman, and that’s fine by me.”
He says nothing, only cups my face and gives me hard, passionate kisses. I ride him until we’re both convulsing from release once more.
As the evening fades into dusk, Roman pulls me into his arms, a sense of peace washing over me. In his embrace, I feel a rare safety, as if this is where I’ve always belonged—right here, where even God would smile upon us, knowing I’ve finally found my sanctuary.
Proverbs 5:19: "A loving doe, a graceful deer— may her breasts satisfy you always, may you ever be intoxicated with her love.”