Good gods.
Silas looked wild. It wasn’t that his hair was damp, nor that he wasn’t even wearing shoes. It was the way his body had changed, blending with darkness to make a being half-transformed. Shadows rippled across the harsh, hungry lines ofhis face and over his body. They flexed like muscles when he prowled across the marble floor, but never seemed to settle into one definitive shape.
It was like he couldn’t decide if he wished to be a monster or man. Maybe it didn’t matter when both sides only wanted to consume her.
“You know, I think it’s fitting,” Silas rumbled as he came to a stop just behind her cushion.
Petra reached out to brace herself against the edge of the altar. His presence, thelookin his eyes, the shock of him finding her so quickly, and the heady curl of rich incense made her head spin. “How did you get in here?” she croaked. “It’s supposed to be?—”
Silas spoke like she hadn’t said anything at all. “Do you know why Blight is known as the One Who Weeps, High Priestess Zaskodna?”
“Silas…”
Hetuttedand grasped the base of her ponytail. She held her breath as he slid his hand down its length before he began to coil it around his palm, looping it end over end until the meat of his palm touched the crown of her head once more. Her scalp prickled, making her wince. Not a moment later he used his grip to guide her around, forcing her to kneel on the cushion before him, her back to the altar.
“Tell me the story.”
Petra’s throat was painfully dry. She stared up at Silas with wide eyes, her breathing too fast. There was no reasoning with him. It was in that violent, taunting grin and those eyes that were so full of want they were almostcruel.His unstable form was backlit by the soft light that filtered in through the sun-shaped cutouts in the wooden screen behind him.
She reached out reflexively, steadying herself by bracing her palms on his knees as he stepped closer, herding her back against the altar. Her shoulders touched the gilded wood.
It was a form of madness, the thing that took over her body when he bore down on her like that. Petra had never been particularly adventurous in bed, probably because she’d never been able to let her guard down, but with Silas that wasn’t an option.
There was no guard. He took a sledgehammer to her doubts and insecurities. They couldn’t exist under the sheer, brutal weight of his lust.
For all the agonizing she’d done as she ran away, Petra found herself going liquid under that all-consuming stare. Blood rushed to her skin in a head-to-toe flush. Her mind went wonderfully blank. The ache between her legs returned, tripled. Her core felt swollen, feverish, and slick when she tightened the muscles of her thighs.
Seeing no better option than to give him what he wanted, Petra whispered, “Blight fell in love with Glory the instant he was made. When she chose Burden as her mate instead, it broke his heart.”
Silas cocked his head to one side. For as wild as he seemed, he didn’t appear to be in any hurry to address the intimidating bulk of his erection hovering in front of her face. “Is that the version you teach kids?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She wasn’t playing obtuse. That was the tale she’d been taught: that the love story between Blight and Glory was doomed due to the god’s covetousness, how he’d sought to smother her light, and that she’d left him for the god Burden, who wished only to bask in her warmth for all time.
“Hm, it figures demons would tell it differently.” Silas raised his free hand to cup her jaw. Staring down his nose at her,he rasped, “Glory and Blight were mates. He came to life only because her light made shadow. He created forests so life could worship her. He loved her,wantedher so fiercely, that when she came to him, he entered the first rut.”
He pressed his thumb against her lower lip, forcing her mouth open just enough to slip the digit past her teeth. His voice took on a knife’s edge when he ordered, “Take my cock out, little goddess.”
A protest jumped to her lips, but those were occupied. All she could do was stare incredulously up at him.Here? Now?
There were cameras. They were in a place of worship. They were surrounded by a priceless antique altar cabinet. Glory’s statue was right behind her,watching.
But the lines of Silas’s face were utterly implacable. Speaking in a quiet voice far scarier than his growl, he warned, “Don’t make me tell you twice.”
A zing of adrenaline raced through her, as potent and bright as a lightning strike. Before she’d even thought it through, her hands were already sliding up his legs to shakily unbutton his jeans and pull down his zipper.
“Good girl,” he purred, watching from under lowered lids as she hefted the weight of his cock in her palm. It was rigid, silky soft and blazing hot against her skin. Petra swore she could feel the beat of his heart when she curled her fingers around his girth.
The amber of his eyes gleamed when he demanded, “Tell me you want it.”
For the span of a handful of heartbeats, Petra considered refusing. For all that Silas was demanding, crude, and dominant, she understood that if shetrulycouldn’t do this, he wouldn’t force it. This was all a part of the game. If she didn’t willingly do this for him in such an inappropriate place, playing intowhatever fantasy he had about debauching Glory’s priestess, then there was no game. No pleasure.
In his place, she thought she could understand the appeal of someone like herchoosingto get on her knees and give him a blowjob under the reproachful gaze of Glory’s statue. She also understood that Silas’s pleasure did not primarily come from the act itself, but rather her submission.
It was far, far more satisfying to have her hand over control than it was for him to take it by force.
So while she hesitated, Petra didn’t trulywantto say no.
