Chapter 32
MAGNUS
I woke with her mouth on me.
A warm, delicate mouth sliding along my semi-erection, making me harder with each breathy pass.
“You were soft just a second ago.” Tinsley pressed her smile against the crown, her golden hair shining in the morning light. “I woke early just to get a glimpse of the rare sighting. You were so adorably squishy and limp—”
“Less talking, more sucking.” I shoved her face down and thrust.
She choked and came up for air, laughing. “And big. I was going to say that but—”
I pulled her mouth down on me again while driving my hips. Christ Almighty, my balls drew up. My toes curled, and my back bowed as overwhelming pleasure surged through me.
She took my cock to the back of her throat as if it were her penance. Then she took me between her legs as if I were her lifeline.
Tinsley Constantine didn’t need any man to save her. But I wanted to be the one she depended on. Everything inside me demanded I provide for her, starting with a means of escape from the future her mother was scheming.
With the right incentive, I could be a tenacious son of a bitch. And Tinsley was that incentive. It was in my nature to keep a firm hold on her. She would call it controlling. I called it protective. Maybe possessive. Definitely jealous.
No matter my flaws, I was going to take Tucker Kensington out of the equation. The thirty seconds he’d danced with her was all he would ever get. She was my charge for five more months, and I would use those months to sort out her future.
After we came down from our groaning, explosive orgasms, I gathered her in my arms with my back against the headboard.
“Best night’s sleep ever.” She straddled my lap, her face nuzzling my neck and the light tickle of her lips softly kissing.
“Agreed.”
“And morning sex. Another first for you?”
“Yes.”
“What a sad life you’ve led, Mr. Billionaire Bachelor of New York.”
“I’m making up for it with you, Your Highness.” I slid a hand along her beautiful backside and teased the tight ring of muscle between her cheeks.
She clenched, whimpered.
“I’m going to violate this hole before we leave the mountains.” I dragged her leg farther around my hip, opening her for my touch.
“You’ll have to work me up to that.”
“I will. That’s a promise.”
“It’s Christmas Eve.” Her eyes twinkled.
“What do you want to do?”
“You.”
“That’s a given. What else?”
“Let’s go on a hike.”
We showered, ate breakfast, and made out on the couch like it was our first time. Then we laughed at ourselves, pulled on our boots and coats, and I gave her a tour of the property.
The snow-covered mountain terrain sparkled like diamonds in the sunlight. With her gloved hand clasped in mine, I led her along the main trail to my favorite spot.
When we arrived, she stood on the alpine bluff overlooking the icy river below.
Cloaked in evergreens and crowned in white, the mountain peaks rose like tributes to the blue-slate sky.
With wildlife galore and the panoramic vista stretching from north to south, there was no better view in the world.
Except the one I had.
The chilly air pinkened her cheeks and frosted her breath. Her white knitted hat failed to contain the wild tangle of hair around her shoulders and arms. She was all bundled up in puffy outerwear and heavy snow boots with a smile so wide she out-glowed the sun.
“What?” She touched her chin to her shoulder and bit down on her grin.
“You’re painfully beautiful.”
“Thank you.” She pulled in a slow, deep breath as if inhaling my words. Her gaze turned back to the view, and her demeanor shifted, growing sober. “We need to talk.”
“I know.”
“Okay.” She picked at a string on her gloves, thinking, possibly stalling. “You and me, what we’re doing, how does it affect your relationship with God?”
“That relationship is in the shitter at the moment.”
“Can you fix it?” She took a breath. “Do you want to fix it?”
“Yes. Maybe. I need to do some serious introspection.” I touched a gloved finger to her temple and brushed a lock of hair from her face.
“Understand me, Tinsley. You’re not the cause of this.
I’ve had an on-again, off-again relationship with God my entire life.
I believe. Then I lose my way. Then I believe again.
Then I question everything. Back and forth, it’s a vicious cycle.
My faith has never been easy, and it never will be. Relationships with me aren’t easy.”
“You’ve been friends with Crisanto for a long time.”
“He’s the only one. When I moved to Sion Academy, I chose to live alone rather than in the main rectory with Crisanto. I didn’t want to destroy our friendship.”
“What about your parents? Why aren’t you spending Christmas with them?”
“I destroyed that relationship when I was in my twenties. We fought about religion. They wanted me to go to church. I had other priorities. It was a constant battle that strained every interaction.”
“Even after you became a priest?”
“Especially after. They didn’t want anything to do with me until I became a priest. Fuck that. I didn’t choose this life for them.”
“Why did you? Become a priest?”
“The short answer…absolution.”
“Absolution from what?”
“Hurting people. Hurting women.” The cold air felt suddenly colder, sinking into my bones. “I did something, and I need you to…”
Not run.
If she ran, I would chase her.
I paced to a fallen tree and brushed the snow off a section to sit on. Then I lifted her, surprising a yelp out of her. With her legs wrapped around me, I straddled the huge trunk. She sat before me, face to face, her thighs draped over mine and arms resting on my shoulders.
Much better.
“I know you’re about to tell me your experiences with other women.” Her gaze searched mine. “I can see the dread in your eyes.”
I nodded, my pulse hammering.
“I don’t want to hear it.” She laughed without humor. “I don’t even want to think about it. But first I need to know, before you tell me anything… Have you ever been in love?”
“No. Never.”
“Okay.” A shaky breath left her. “Any long-term relationships?”
“No.”
“And you already said you’ve never been monogamous.” Her dainty brows pulled together.
“The man I was before only cared about himself. I didn’t have relationships with women. I had arrangements .” I gripped her thighs and monitored her expressions. “I tied them up, humiliated them, whipped them, choked them, cut them, burned them—”
“Wait. You cut them? And burned them?”
“Yes. They were willing. I needed to hurt them to get off, and I chose women who wanted that sort of thing.”
“When I saw you holding my bloody underwear in your bathroom, I knew something was different about you. Blood doesn’t gross you out. It fascinates you.” Her voice lowered, and her eyebrows followed. “But you seem to get off just fine now without the pain and blood.”
“Yeah.” I leaned in and rested my forehead against hers.
“I do. That’s all you, Tinsley. I craved it when I first met you.
And I still crave it with you—spanking, choking, fucking the back of your throat.
I love to play with you, but I could never hurt you the way I used to hurt other women.
I only want to protect you.” I stroked my thumbs on her thighs, unlocking my deeper self with every word. “You make me a better man.”
“You should give yourself some credit. You spent the past nine years atoning. And besides, if all you did was have rough, willing sex, that doesn’t make you a bad person. Just means you’re kinky.”
“That’s not all.” I inched back, needing space to watch her eyes. “I used to flip businesses. I preyed on corporations that were going under, strong-armed the owners to sell, and after I fixed them up, I made a killing on the resale.”
“I know.”
“I often targeted women-owned corporations and used sex to manipulate them into selling. I did this for ten years.”
“Jesus.”
“I used those women. Sometimes they fell in love with me, and in the end, I left them penniless and brokenhearted.”
“You were a misogynist.” She made a sound of revulsion.
“No, I wasn’t prejudiced against women. I hated everyone equally. I was a narcissistic asshole, obsessed with myself, my appearance, sex, money, and power, and I knew how to use all that to seduce women and grow exceedingly richer and more powerful.”
“Always older women?”
“Always.”
“Except I’m not older.”
“I’m not the same man, and you’re not those women. Everything about this is different. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you. I’m captivated by your beauty, your boldness, and your infuriating mouth.” I smiled to myself. “I don’t want to hurt you, use you, or take your money.”
As the confession began to unfurl, I felt my energy weaving itself into hers, tingling, sparking, and rewiring me. I felt myself becoming part of the fabric of this woman. I felt her goodness, her purity, and it was fucking liberating.
“Thank you for being honest with me. It’s hard to hear. Disturbing. But it helps me understand.” She worried her lip with her teeth. “Do you think, if I’d met you back then, you would’ve treated me the way you treated everyone else?”
She wanted to know what was different now. What had changed? Was it me? Nine years of celibacy? Or was she the catalyst?
“Priesthood helped me. It taught me how to treat people better. I still crave erotic pain, but with you, it’s manageable because my need to keep you safe far surpasses my selfish compulsions.
Protecting you is my compulsion. If I’d met you in my twenties when I was the worst prick in existence?
I don’t know. I can’t imagine our relationship being any different.
I’m instinctively drawn to you in a way I’ve never been drawn to anyone. ”
“I feel the same about you.” She placed a kiss on my lips. “So what happened? You said you did something. What brought you here?”