36. Thirty-Six #3
The pressure built inside me, a tidal wave I couldn’t hold back.
His fingers worked me expertly, his cock hitting that perfect spot with each thrust. When I came, it was violent and all-consuming, my vision blurring at the edges as pleasure ripped through me.
I screamed his name one final time, the sound bouncing off stone walls and stained glass, a profane echo in sacred space.
He followed moments later, his rhythm stuttering as he came inside me, his teeth sinking into my shoulder to muffle his own groan.
I felt him pulse within me, claiming me in the most primal way possible.
The altar beneath us had turned warm from our bodies, no longer cold stone but something transformed by our sacrilege.
Arrow stayed inside me for a moment, his breath hot against my neck, both of us suspended in the aftermath.
Moonlight filtered through the stained glass above, painting our bodies in fragments of colored light—blood red, midnight blue, and gold.
Saints stared down at us, their glass eyes seeming to judge and forgive in equal measure.
“Fuck,” he breathed against my skin.
I laughed, the sound bouncing off stone walls. “I believe we just did.”
He pulled back just enough to look at me, his eyes tracing over my flushed face. Something flickered there—not tenderness exactly, but something adjacent to it, like a predator admiring its prey before deciding whether to devour it completely.
“I’ve corrupted you,” he said, sounding pleased with himself.
I raised an eyebrow. “Bold of you to assume I wasn't already corrupted.”
His laugh was low and genuine as he pulled out of me and adjusted his clothing.
The loss of him left me feeling suddenly empty.
I sat up, smoothing my dress down over my thighs, acutely aware of the wetness between them.
My panties were on the floor, torn, and unsalvageable.
I’d have to leave commando, which seemed fitting for our unholy union in this sacred space.
Arrow watched me as I slid off the altar, my legs trembling. His cum trickled down my inner thigh, marking me as thoroughly as the brand on my hip. I should have felt shame, or at least some flicker of religious guilt, but all I felt was a savage satisfaction.
“You’ve ruined me for church forever,” I said, smoothing my hair back into place.
He caught my wrist, pulling me against him once more. “Good. I want to ruin you for everything except me.”
This was what we were—two monsters finding sanctuary in each other’s darkness, and I couldn’t admit it out loud, but he was the first person to match my demons.
“Come on,” he said, his hand finding the small of my back. “Let’s get out of here before the priest has a heart attack.”
We walked down the aisle together, a rehearsal for the real thing. My heels echoed against the stone floor, matching the steady rhythm of his footsteps beside me. The massive doors creaked open as we approached, revealing the city beyond—a chaotic constellation of lights against the night sky.
Father Pavel was nowhere to be seen, probably hiding in some dark corner, praying for our souls. I almost felt sorry for him, a man who’d spent his life in service to a God who probably never imagined his house would be defiled quite like this.
Outside, the night air hit my flushed skin, the chill a stark contrast to the heat still pulsing through my veins.
His arm slid around my waist, proprietary and warm as we descended the cracked stone steps.
Frank waited by the car, now joined by Atlas, who was talking to some of his men who were pointing at different vantage points, faces carefully neutral despite what must have been obvious to anyone with eyes.
“Luna told me to make sure that there were no vantage points that might get missed,” Atlas said when we approached. “Apparently, you’ve made quite the impression on my wife, and she’d really like to keep you around.”
I couldn’t help the smile that crossed my face. The idea that she’d sent her husband to make sure I survived my own wedding warmed something in me.
“Please tell her I appreciate the concern,” I said.
Atlas nodded, his eyes flickering between Arrow and me with knowing amusement. “I see you two have been . . . getting acquainted with the venue.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks.
“Just making sure the altar’s structurally sound,” Arrow replied. “Wouldn’t want any surprises during the ceremony.”
Atlas laughed. “I’m sure you were very thorough in your inspection. Well?” Atlas asked, lighting a cigarette. “Is the venue suitable for the impending bloodbath?”
“Perfect,” Arrow replied, his thumb tracing small circles against my hip. “Father Pavel will handle the arrangements.”
“Poor bastard,” Atlas chuckled, exhaling smoke. “Did you at least leave him a decent tip for the trauma?”
I smoothed my dress, acutely aware of the absence of underwear and the evidence of Arrow still slick between my thighs. “I’ll be sure to light a candle for his troubles,” I smirked, feeling Arrow’s arm tighten possessively around my waist.
Atlas’s eyes flickered between us, taking in my disheveled appearance with knowing amusement. “Luna’s going to be disappointed she missed this. She has a bet going about how many sacred places you two will desecrate before the wedding.”
“What’s her number?” I asked.
“Five,” Atlas replied, exhaling smoke that curled like a question mark in the night air.
Arrow’s laugh was low against my ear. “Tell her to double it.”
* Baby girl