Chapter 32

32

Lustina

Lustina lay in bed, staring at the wall from where the Messiah, nailed to the crucifix, stared back at her. Her thoughts drifted to earlier in the night and the argument she’d had with the baron. How cruel his words had been. So cruel, they burned inside her chest with a bitterness that kept her awake when she should’ve been fast asleep. Part of her knew he’d spoken out of pain and anger, and that she should just dismiss it and go to sleep, but a greater part hated him for his cruelty.

Could she have known his heart any better than in that moment? Did they not suffer a kindred pain? Yet, he’d treated her as if she were a stranger. His enemy.

And every time she thought of his face, as he’d spat his spiteful words, a heavy and hollow ache throbbed against her ribs.

A sound interrupted her thoughts, and Lustina twisted where she lay, catching sight of a shadowed figure climbing in through her window.

She jolted upright, kicking back against the wall behind her, as the young baron stepped into the moon’s light. The sight of him sent both a thrill and panic pulsing through her.

“My Lord, what are you doing?”

He pressed a finger to his lips and reached out for her. “Come with me.”

Much as she wanted to refuse him, after what’d happened in the cathedral earlier, she didn’t. She couldn’t—she was all too aware what evil thoughts had plagued her own mind after her mother’s death. Instead, she climbed out of bed, clad in only her simple, white nightgown, and met him at the window. Once there, he tugged her to his lips for a kiss that held a million apologies.

Every fiber of her being beckoned her to push him away, to make him grovel and beg for her forgiveness, but that was the thing about kindred pain. It forced one to give rather than deny.

“Forgive me for earlier,” he said against her lips. “You are the only person left in this world for me. I fed you my wrath, and still, you offered nothing but grace. You, of all people, did not deserve that.”

“I did not mean to incite--”

He pressed a finger to her lips, silencing her. “You incited nothing more than my own remorse for having treated you so cruel. I was angry. Irrational. Mad with grief. But that was no excuse to speak to you that way.” He traced a soft caress along her temple to her cheek. “My heart has always been a restless scavenger, Lustina. But in you, I have found repletion. I do not wish to lose that. Or you.”

“All is forgiven.”

He pressed another kiss to her lips and urged her toward the sill.?“Come with me into the night.”

“My Lord, someone will see us.” She tugged at his arm, urging him away, but he gripped her hand tighter.

“Then, we will hurry.” Having slipped through the window, he climbed down the tall trellis and paused only a short distance down. “Come. If you fall, I will catch you.”

The sight of the ground stories below left her feeling dizzy and ill. “I do not think I can.”

“Close your eyes. I am right here.”

Sucking in a deep breath, she nervously climbed through the window and stepped down onto the trellis, clutching to the windowsill as she clamped her eyes shut. “I … I do not think I can do this.” The harsh wood dug into her tender feet, only adding to the panic of her downward climb.

“Step down, Lustina. Move toward my voice.”

Body trembling, she shook her head frantically and clung to the viny structure for dear life. “No, I cannot. I cannot do it.”

“You can. It is fear which tells you otherwise.”

Fingers curled into the trellis, she might have chuckled at that, if not for her stiff and quivering jaw. “Fear has good reason to protest. Such a fall would prove deadly.”

“One step down, or I will carry you down.”

One step. Only one step.

She mentally willed her leg to move. Her foot slipped, and the trellis sliced at her fingers as she dangled from it before gaining her footing again.

“That was good. Now step down. Come to me, Lustina.”

Swallowing a gulp, she lowered a shaky leg to the next rung of the trellis. Then the next.

“Keep coming. Do not stop.”

“I do not feel well, My Lord.”

“You are almost to the bottom.”

Step after harrowing step, she made her way down the trellis, until she felt his hands steady her waist and the relief of solid ground against the soles of her bare feet, where Jericho took her hand. Together, they ran through the darkness, into the nearby woods.

Once cloaked beneath the canopy of trees, he slowed his paces, only a silver gossamer of moonlight illuminating their path, as he led her deeper into the forest.?“Tell me something,” he said over his shoulder. “Do you ever hear voices? Or have strange visions?”

If by visions, he meant dreams, she’d surely had her share of those. “Sometimes I hear my mother’s voice.”

“I do not mean a mother’s voice. A mother’s voice is comforting.”

“Then, what do you mean, My Lord?”

As if troubled by the question, he released her, still guiding her into the woods. “These experiments Bishop Venable conducts. I have told you what they do, but I have not told you why.”

“So, tell me.”

He finally came to a stop, his back still facing her, as if he couldn’t bring himself to turn around. “They believe something is wrong with me. That I carry an evil inside of me.” His stillness turned to pacing, and he rubbed the back of his neck in a way that sent a nagging sense of uneasiness into her bones. “If I were you, they would have burned me at the stake, like your mother.” Halting mid-step, he shook his head, his behavior erratic and worrisome, but she remained quiet, observant. “My apologies. Forgive me for saying that. I meant only to say that, because I carry the prominence of title and name, they carry out their tortures in a far more clandestine way. Under the guise of exorcism.”

“Exorcism? What for? There is nothing wrong with you,” Lustina assured him.

“There is.” The grave expression on his face sent tendrils of dread curling through her. “They are not wrong in their beliefs. I have known my whole life. But it was on my mother’s deathbed that she finally revealed the truth of it to me.”

“What truth?”

His brows flickered, as though he were trapped somewhere between excitement and panic, and Lustina couldn’t grasp which had a stronger hold on him. “What I really am.”

Heart pounding, she dared to ask the question that squeezed at her ribs. “What?”

Standing thoughtful for a moment, he shook his head and paced again. He stroked his hands through his hair, back and forth, in a way that seemed nervous and unsettled. “I’ve always felt … different. Peculiar alongside other children. I’ve always been told there was a darkness inside of me, and yet, I loved my mother, so how could that be?” The perplexed expression on his face tightened as he resumed his pacing. “It was as if two entities battled inside of me. Constantly clashing in a bid for dominance. But the world did not see me that way. They did not see the potential for good. Only my mother had any faith it was there.” The shine of tears in his eyes pulled at Lustina’s heart, and she wanted more than anything to wrap her arms around him. “And you.”

Cheeks burning, she lowered her gaze from his. “Of course, My Lord. But I believe we all have both good and darkness inside of us. Why would Bishop Venable punish you for that? When even the holiest man in all of Praecepsia carries darkness, himself.”

Lip peeled back in disgust, he looked away. “Because I can see things that should not be seen. Hear things that cannot be heard by anyone else.”

“Like the birds. But I can hear them, also.”

“Because you carry something they recognize. A piece of my soul.” He stepped toward her and reached out to cup her face in his palm. “We were fated to be together. It is your light to which I am drawn, Lustina. It feeds the dark thoughts in my head.” Palm shifting to her throat, he didn’t have to squeeze to lay claim. His grip was gentle but possessive at the same time. “My mother feared that one side of me would dominate the other. That I would become as my father, instead of her, and sometimes I fear you make it so. You bring out cravings in me. Feelings I cannot control.”

“I do not mean to, My Lord.”

“Of course not. It is not in your nature to wittingly invoke the beast inside of a man. You do so without knowing.” He ran his thumb back and forth over her bottom lip, gaze riveted on the act. “Your scent. Your touch. Your voice. It calls to me like a siren, luring me toward the mysterious abyss. And still, I’ve an insatiable appetite for it. When I think of someone hurting you, or touching you, those thoughts my mother feared claw inside of me.” His fingers curled around her nape as his lips peeled back into a snarl. “I cannot and will not bear the thought of another man laying claim to you. Ever. Earlier, you said that you would never belong to me. But you do. And I belong to you.”

As much as what he said thrilled her, his unremitting determination frightened her just as much. No one had ever wanted her that way. No one had ever cared about young Lustina, the feral child who’d lived in the woods with her witch mother. Certainly no one as important as the baron. “You cannot possess what you love, my Lord. It does not work that way. You have to ask for it, and I have to give it freely.”

“Then, I am asking you now. What will you say?”

In the quiet that followed, Lustina stared into his eyes, his warm, pleading eyes that promised her love and security--things her mother never had. A voice inside of her chided her stubborn hesitation, told her to trust her heart and to forgive the world for the burdens it’d always placed on her shoulders. The voice spoke calmly and kindly, and Lustina knew, without a doubt, it belonged to her mother. “I say I am yours.”

“Eternally.”

“Eternally,” she agreed.

Jericho lifted her arm where the branding of the Pentacrux had been burned into her flesh. Over it, he swept his thumb, leaving behind silvery, metallic swirls that glinted in the soft moonlight. Thousands of strange symbols she didn’t recognize lay embedded in the swirls, magnificent and unearthly. “You no longer belong to the church or these people. You are not bound by the laws of their world. From this night forward, I am your church. When you are lost, I am your shelter. When you are in pain, I am your elixir.” Gripping her crown, he tipped her head back and stared deeply into her eyes. The intensity of his gaze tickled her stomach. “When you ache for pleasure, I am your mercy.” A look of conviction claimed his expression, as he said, “I will burn down this pathetic world for you. Only you. You are mine, little fledgling. Always.”

“Always.”

Jericho took her hand, guiding her to a soft patch of green grass, and with his palm cupped to the back of her neck, he laid her down there. Lips pressed to hers, he stole her breath, as he worked the ties of her nightgown loose.

“Are you afraid?” he asked against her lips.

“Only a little,” she whispered. “Although, it is my lack of experience that frightens me, My Lord, not you.” If she dared to admit it, it was also the teachings of the church, which dictated that any premarital sexual acts caught by a member of the church was punishable by death.

“I will teach you to enjoy the hidden pleasures of your body. Soon, you will crave as thoroughly as your need to breathe, but you will go to no other man to sate this hunger, do you understand?”

“Yes.”

He gave a light squeeze of her throat and clenched his teeth. “Promise me you will not seek out another.”

“I promise you.”

With that, the tension seemed to ease in him, and grip loosening, he nodded. “You will do everything I tell you this evening, without question, yes? And you will trust me.”

“I will.”

“Spread your thighs for me.”

Lustina swallowed a harsh gulp and did as he commanded, opening herself to him. The hem of her gown climbed the length of her thigh, and vulnerability swept over her as she lay indecent and exposed, her most forbidden parts on display. Knees trembling, she fought the urge to bring her legs together, as the baron stared down at her with a reverent gleam in his eyes.

“You are divine, Lustina. My beautiful and perfect little butterfly.”

The girl had to look away, seeing as she didn’t feel beautiful, or perfect, in that moment. She worried about every flaw--the birthmark on her inner thigh, the small bit of hair that’d begun to grow there. When he pressed a finger to her flesh, a wave of shock and panic pulsed through her. On a gasp, she kicked back from him and brought her knees together.

With a grip of her ankles, he dragged her across the grass, back into place, and wedged his body between her thighs, preventing her from closing them again. “You will not move unless told to do so. Is that clear?”

She swallowed past the dryness in her throat and nodded. “Yes, My Lord.”

Eyes directed at her, he resumed his touching, watching her. The sensation was unbearably pleasurable. The soft rubbing, made slick with a strange wetness, felt utterly delicious and wrong at the same time. And that odd bubbly sensation that reminded her of a boiling pot of water. Not painful, but fervid and warm. God help her, it felt exquisite. Positively titillating.

Heat rose to her face, while a carnal urgency tugged somewhere deep inside her belly, and when she looked away, he gave a gentle nudge of her jaw, guiding her attention back to him.

“Have you never reached the point of ecstasy on your own?”

Lips pressed to a hard line, she stared up at him in confusion. “Ecstasy?”

His mouth curved to a wicked smile. “Then, I shall enjoy this all the more.”

Little pants of breath escaped her, the glide of his finger so sticky and wet, he hardly had to put much pressure to incite the friction and heat building in that place that ached for more. Of what, she didn’t know. She had never felt anything so thrilling in her life, and when he pushed his finger up into her, Lustina let out a quiet whimper. She could not have imagined the unexpected delight of feeling it move inside her body, gliding in and out of her. While his thumb rolled across the budding bit of sensitive flesh on the outside, his finger pumped in and out of her, creating a sloppy wet sound that seemed to echo all around them.

Moaning and grunting, Lustina rolled her head back and forth, hands balling and flexing at her sides as some kind of evil possessed her. A sweet torment, which claimed her limbs and left her breathless and weak. The gluttony she felt surely had to be a sin. The sensation was everything, and yet, somehow, not enough. Not enough! How could it not be enough?

As if he could hear her thoughts, the baron inserted a second finger, and Lustina arched, relieved by the newly added pressure. Without guidance, she spread her legs wider, pulling her knees up, and writhed as he drove his fingers in and out of that dark, forbidden hole.

“You are a vision of pure lust, Lustina. This craving to devour you is unrelenting.” With that, he lowered his face to between her thighs, and as he continued to push his fingers inside of her, he dragged his tongue over the sensitive mound where his thumb had once played. His flicking and sucking at it stirred a feeling of madness, a desire to bite and scream and dig her fingers into something. She cried out, gripping the crown of his head with one hand and a fistful of grass with the other. She watched with panic as his head bobbed, his arm flexed, and the pressure inside of her grew into a tight ball that pulled at her belly and thighs.

What was this monster inside of her? This gluttonous beast that yearned for something? She did not know, but it clawed and wrenched her insides--squeezing and releasing, squeezing and releasing. Every muscle in her body tensed, and she arched as the monster grew bigger, hungrier, climbing toward some unseen pinnacle.

“Jericho! Please!” Panic laced her voice, and like a girl possessed, she circled her hips against his unforgiving tongue, her fingers scraping the crown of his head.

He didn’t stop.

Why didn’t he stop!

Please stop!

Surely, what awaited her on the other side would be painful, with as tense as her muscles had grown.

And then something warm exploded inside of her. A flash of jagged light struck the back of her eyes. And with clenched teeth, she let out a long, tortuous sound that pitched to a scream. Oh, God, it was the most glorious sensation she’d ever felt, this rush of heat and the cool tingles that followed.

As if she’d ascended to the heavens, her body fell, down, down, down, into a warm and cozy state. Every muscle turned flaccid, her limbs boneless. She let out a satisfied giggle, and when he pulled his face from between her thighs, she brought them together and turned on her side, feeling the tiny pulses still beating inside of her.

Breaths heaving, Jericho stared down at her, licking his lips and fingers. The glisten across his face carried the remnants of his devouring. “I wanted you to know pleasure,” he said in a ragged voice. “Because what I’m about to do next will not be as pleasurable for you.”

“It will for you, though?”

“Yes. Very much.”

“What do I do?”

“You need only to lie still.”

“That is all, My Lord? I do not touch you as you touched me?”

The sound of his chuckle brought a sheepish smile to her face. “Not this time. But perhaps the next.” Falling forward, he caught himself on outstretched hands, and she glanced down as he unlatched his trousers and pushed them down to his knees, springing his flesh free.

Even over the warmth from earlier that’d left her flush, Lustina could feel the heat rush to her cheeks again. He ran his palm up and down the length of it, which seemed to feel good, by the way he let out a grunt.

Curiosity got the best of her, and she reached down before she could stop herself. The moment her fingertips made contact, she pulled away, but not before Jericho snatched up her arm. Eyes on hers, he pushed her hand back toward it. A cold tickle stirred in her chest, as he urged her hand around the shaft and his chest heaved. Her fingers could barely hold its girth, as it seemed to grow in her grip. Small ridges moved beneath her palm, and when she palpated one with her thumb, he shivered over her. That bubbly sensation shot up into her arm and through her chest. It tingled across her nipples and down between her thighs like a creature running rampant through her body. What was this delicious sensation which turned her gluttonous?

Squeezing against her hand, he guided her palm up and down, up and down, and the moan that escaped him sent a thrill to her stomach. It was her touch that had him driving his hips toward her and incited the growly sounds she could hear rumbling inside his chest.

“Yes, Lustina. Just like this.” His deep, gravelly voice sent a fluttery feeling through her body, and she studied his face as she kept on with her strokes. The way the veins in his neck surfaced, and the usual angry lines of his brow had softened. His eyes rolled back, as if in ecstasy.

She wanted to please him. To make him feel what she’d felt just moments ago. “Show me more. Show me what you want, My Lord.”

Wearing a humorless expression, he stared back at her as he removed her hand from his flesh. With a grip of her thigh, he spread her open, and at the prod of her entrance, she looked down to find the tip of his member nudging her there.

“I want to be inside you. Here.” Fingers gripping tighter, he held her open and pushed into the place where his fingers had been earlier. “Relax, Lustina.”

She gasped and tensed, a jolt of distress rising to her throat. Shaking her head, she attempted to push him away. “No, it is too big. It will not fit.”

“It will, I promise you. Just relax. I will go slow.”

Alarm beat through her, as he inched further. The pressure swelled to an unimaginable level, as her body seemed to stretch and accommodate his size. Until, at last, he was fully seated inside of her, and he let out a masculine sound of satisfaction.

He remained still, giving her a moment to exhale a held breath. “It will sting and bleed, and you may find it difficult to walk tomorrow, but I promise, it gets better.”

Tears welled in her eyes, not from the pain, but the closeness of him. Could a human being be any more connected than that??Could she possibly know the depths of his soul any more than when his skin touched her skin, while his hands curled tightly into hers.

In slow and steady movements, he rocked against her, and she could feel his thickness move in and out in languid thrusts. The sting of every stretch turned to a cold tingle. She wrapped her legs around his back, arms clinging to him around his shoulders, only daring to breathe when he pulled back.

His thrusts hastened. Muscles tensed beneath her palms. His moans heightened, telling her that, in spite of the pain, he found pleasure in her body. Lustina tipped her head back, catching sight of the crescent moon overhead. She closed her eyes and turned her focus toward the sensation of his massive body caught in her grasp. How beautifully and perfectly he moved, like the ocean waves beating against the shore. Over and over. The visual sent a calm through her, and she relented, allowing him to use her body.

She arched into him, delighting in the sensation of his chest rubbing against her breasts through the thin fabric of her nightgown, her thighs tucked in the dip of his waist. His back flexed with every drive as he fed his desires.

Faster, he moved.

Deeper.

So deeply, she cried out.

His breathing turned to panting grunts, fingers clawing at her bottom. He bit down in the crook of her neck, and she let out a scream.

Jericho shuddered against her, every muscle tense and trembling, and he let out a tortured growl. Like a feral beast that had ravaged her. His thrusts slowed, and he stilled against her. Breathing. Their chests moved in tandem, and he rested his forehead against her throat, not bothering to remove himself from inside of her.

It did not trouble her, though. There would be pain afterward, but right then, she only felt the warmth of his body against the cool evening breeze, heard the sounds of the forest--the rattling of leaves and chirping of insects. The peaceful monotony of heaving breaths.

As a sense of joyful contentment swept over her, she stared up at the stars, and tears slipped down her temples. Somehow, in the thick of her gratification, a nagging sense of doubt still plagued her mind. “Was it enough, My Lord?”

“It was everything. I will never desire another after this night.”

Neither would she. But it was a realization Lustina had decided long before that night.