Chapter Fourteen

Inever thought I would lose an ear. Frankly, I never thought I would lose any part of my body. When I was a monster, I was completely indestructible. I vaguely remember being attacked by people in self-defense, but I don't think they ever did any damage. Regardless, every part of me has always remained intact.

Until Larimar, my little fish, my sea goddess with an appetite for destruction, bit off my blasted ear, sliced open my neck, and left her marks down my back in bloody rows. I don't think I've ever experienced so much pain, but that agony was quickly replaced by the need for violence and the desire to fuck her.

It's fortunate for the both of us that my desire to fuck her won out.

In the days since I took her in the church, I've grappled with what has changed. My ear grew back, thankfully—turns out I'm more vain than a priest should be—and my wounds healed, but my relationship with Larimar has been altered. It's like I'm looking at her through a different lens. I've always desired her, wanted to possess her in an obsessive way. I yearned to keep her forever, whether that meant keeping her in the back room of this church or perhaps, one day, venturing out of this desolate, weather-beaten village and going elsewhere—maybe a pirate ship helmed by a crew of blood-drinkers, setting sail for seas uncharted with her by my side.

But those feelings came from a place of ownership, from wanting her to be mine. It's why I needed her to be bound to me in exchange for my magic. It might just be for show on her behalf, but I take it seriously. When I say I will travel to the ends of the earth to find her if she ever leaves me, I mean it.

However, after I'd been inside her, after I came until there was nothing left, after I gave myself over to temptation and sin, I realized what I'd been afraid of this whole time. I assumed that if I broke my vows, if I fucked her properly in the eyes of God, that I would be handing the reins over to the beast inside.

But that didn't happen.

I realized my true fear, what has always terrified me about my sea goddess, is how I felt about her. Not just as a possession or an obsession, something to own and keep and behold, but someone to protect, to cherish, with a part of her to covet.

Her heart.

But I wouldn't know what to do with anyone's heart. I am the last person who would keep it safe. If she gave me hers, I would only abuse it. I am not a good man, no matter my vocation, and I only know how to hurt the things I care about.

As for my heart? Well, I don't really have one. It was lost the day I was turned into a Vampyre. No, not lost. I didn't lose my heart that day.

I shredded it to pieces.

I liquefied it.

It dissolved the moment I killed my family.

Like it had never existed at all.

A man like that doesn't deserve to have a heart.

Despite Larimar reminding me of what I fear most, there was no chance I could stay away from her. Naturally, I couldn't anyway, since I had to check on her each day. I have the humble jobs of emptying her latrine bucket and bringing her food and water.

I kept the chain in her mouth and her hands bound. My body needed time to mend, and the last thing I wanted was to have her attack me and have to start healing over again. I shudder to think what other body part she might try and bite off. I know I gave her pleasure over and over again—and she knows what will happen to her if she tries to run—but I can't take my chances.

Sometimes I want to, though. Often. One more taste of that cunt, one more tight squeeze inside her. I want to feel the way she quakes on my cock when she's coming. I want to hear her breathless, greedy little noises as she finishes, the heaven only I can make her see.

And right now, she's standing in front of me with a carnal look on her sweet face. Such a juxtaposition—a devil and an angel in one, and she's naked, bound, and chained.

I hold a wet cloth in my hand, offering it to her from the washtub. I moved it here from my cottage, figuring it was a more dignified way to bathe than from a bucket.

"I figured since you don't have a tail anymore, you should probably bathe yourself."

I've loosened the chain just enough so she can speak, albeit muffled and slurred at times. "You'll have to untie me first," she says sweetly, showing me her wrists.

She only looks innocent. I know what those claws can do.

When I don't move for her, she rolls her eyes and climbs into the tub, her long, wheat-blonde hair falling over her shoulder like an early Renaissance painting. "Fine," she says in a hard, muffled voice. "Then you'll be the one to bathe me."

I exhale heavily and nod. "Fine."

She sits down in the tub, the water barely covering her. It's freezing since I wasn't able to heat it up, but she doesn't seem to notice. I suppose that's another part of her Syren self that carried through since she used to swim in the waters offshore, rife with penguins and floating shelves of ice.

"Tell me something about yourself," I say as I rub a slice of olive oil soap across the washcloth and apply it to her shoulders. Her skin is so soft and smooth it slides right over her. "Tell me about where you were living before I found you."

"Living?" she says with a snort. "I was living everywhere."

"But you live in groups, in colonies, do you not?"

"I told you I was alone," she says as I bring the soapy cloth down over her back.

"But you came from a kingdom. Limonos, was it? You were in Acapulco. That's on the other side of the continent. Surely, you were with others from there to here. Why would you swim all this way alone?"

Her body goes still, and silence fills the room. "I was looking for someone."

This is news to me.

"Who?" I ask, the cloth pausing mid-spine.

"Someone who doesn't want to be found," she says quietly. "I'd rather not talk about it."

"Why not? I told you about my past."

"Not everything," she says as she glances up at me.

She's right—not everything. If I were to badger her anymore, she would make me confess my darkest sins.

I drop the subject. It's probably cruel to keep making her talk while she's gagged with a chain anyway.

I keep the cloth moving as I wash her everywhere, being extra gentle over her breasts, between her legs. It's impossible not to excite her, not to provoke her sexual appetite. I make her come without even meaning to, and there are no prayers I can say that will keep my cock down, that will keep my mind from sinking into the mire of depravity.

By the time I'm done bathing her, I decide to revel in it.

I pick her up out of the bath, wet and naked, and lie her down on the pew.

"I'm going to feed from you," I tell her. "And you're going to let me take my fill."

Her eyes widen with anticipation. "Will you make it hurt?" she asks.

"I can try not to, but I won't make any promises."

"I'm asking you to." She gives me a wry smile. "Make it hurt."

Her plea makes my balls rise, my cock already viciously, painfully hard.

"Alright," I tell her, about to open the flap on my trousers.

"I have another request," she says quickly, and I stare at her to go on. "I want to see you naked."

I pause, my hand down my pants, fisting my cock. "Naked?"

"I've never seen a man completely nude," she says. "Not in a sexual way. Please. You're always clothed, and I'm always…not. It's only fair, isn't it?"

"If things were fair in your world, you wouldn't be my captive, would you?" I point out, but I decide to indulge her regardless. I take off my shirt, my pants, until I'm in the nude, the only thing left on my body the rosary around my neck. I know my body is strong, built to perfection. Being an immortal with preternatural strength means that everything is in peak physical condition, from my arms to my abdomen to my cock.

And from the way she bites her lips, the fresh smell of her arousal in the air, I know she more than likes what she sees.

My little fish is hungry.

I put my hands on her clavicles and shove her until she's lying back on the pew, and then I take her legs and raise them as straight as they will go, standing between them. Her cunt is completely bare and open to me, and I have the most sinful view of it.

I waste no time unleashing the heathen inside me.

I position my cock at her cunt, teasing for a few seconds with just the tip, barely pushing in until she starts squirming, rubbing her cunt, wet and slick, against me.

Then I give her what she wants, wedging my cock inside her as deep as it will go. It's a tight fit from this angle, but the more I jam it in, the more I feel her stretch around me. My eyes roll back in my head, my body trembling already.

"God," she cries out against the chain.

I pretend she's calling to me, that I'm her god.

I groan at the thought as my balls pull toward my body, tight as fists.

But what god would have a woman with her hands tied behind her back and a metal chain in her mouth? What god would hold such a woman captive so he could fuck her and feast on her?

I guess that makes me the Devil.

I push in to the hilt, my balls pressed against her ass and thighs, and stare down at the sight. She looks like she's being impaled, my cock thick inside her wet, pink skin.

"More, please," she whispers, her eyes locking with mine.

I grunt and start pumping harder, holding on to her legs for leverage, her calves on my shoulders, and soon, I'm rutting like an animal. I feel so incredibly strong like this, seeing her beneath me, her cunt sopping, her eyes glazed, her body mine for the taking. It almost feels wrong, like I shouldn't be relishing how much I'm overpowering her, and yet I am.

"More," she whispers again.

I grin at her, my voice ragged as I say, "I'm not done with you yet."

I pull out, my cock bobbing, shiny with her desire, as I flip her over on her stomach. She lets out a gleeful laugh that makes my heart skip a beat, but that's quickly overshadowed by the fervent need to come inside her.

But first, I want to feed.

And then, I want to give her something more.

I lean forward over her back and bite the side of her neck. My fangs pierce her skin, and her sweet blood flows into my mouth, trickling down her neck. I know I shouldn't feed from her so often, but I can't help myself. Her blood is as addictive as the rest of her.

"More," she groans.

"More what?" I ask against her neck, licking up the spilled blood. "Tell me, and I'll give it to you."

"More of you. I want to feel more of everything. I want to feel obliterated."

"Then your prayers shall be answered," I tell her.

I swallow her blood down and then straighten up. "Lift up your hips," I murmur to her, watching as her firm, full bottom rises in the air. "That's a good girl."

I lean down and bite her cheek, fangs sinking into the soft, pillowy skin.

She cries out, her body stiffening before she starts to relax into me.

Before she can move, I grasp her rear in my hands and spread her cheeks apart. Her tight little hole is clean, pink, and waiting for me, and I'm going to mess it all up. I lower my head, my nose pressing in first before my mouth, and she gasps as my tongue makes contact with her pretty puckered spot, tasting of the soap I washed her with.

"Oh my God," she cries out against the chain.

I keep probing, tasting, getting her hole as wet as possible for what I'm about to do. I pull back and bite her rear again, pulling the blood into my mouth before I spit on my hand.

I slide that hand over my throbbing cock, then between her cheeks, alternating until both are slippery.

"Bite down if you need to," I joke.

Then, I press the tip of my cock against her slick hole and slowly push in.

"Ahhh," she cries out softly.

"That's it, you can take me," I assure her. "I'll go slow."

"Priest," she groans, her body starting to squirm, as if to run.

I pause, placing my hand on her lower back. "You can tell me to stop."

She nods, swallowing audibly. "It's alright. I'm fine."

"You can take it," I tell her again.

"I can take it."

I grin to myself with a perverse sense of pride before I grab her hips and continue pushing myself inside her. Inch by inch it goes, and I spit a few times more to lubricate its path.

She moans loudly, and while she's not pushing her rear into me, she's not trying to run away either.

Slowly, I begin pumping, my cock glistening as I draw it out and then push it back in. She's so tight it makes it hard to see straight.

"More," she says. "I want to feel you everywhere."

My brows rise as I watch my length disappear inside her.

She says everywhere…

Still inside her, I reach over to one of the lit candles on the desk and blow it out. Smoke floats away from the wick as I pull the candle from the holder and turn it upside down, the smoldering end pressed against my palm, singeing it.

Brandishing it, I bring the candle down underneath her hips.

Her body tenses.

I run my fingers over the rim of her cunt, making sure she's still gushing before I thrust the candle inside her.

"Priest!" she calls out. The candle is nearly as thick as my cock, but she's so wet it slides right inside.

"That's it," I murmur, working both her asshole and her cunt. "See how well you take me? See how your body needs me, so ripe and greedy, ready to come any way that you can?"

She's panting now, moving her hips back against me, wanting more. I give it to her, the candle fucking her cunt deep, my cock shoved into her rear.

I've never seen such a sight.

"You like this, don't you?" I moan. "Being filled like this. Do you want to come, little fish?"

She nods, letting out a whimpering sound. She's so tense, trembling all over, so very close. All I do is slip my knuckle over her swollen clit, and she comes undone.

Her channel grips my cock, milking me until I'm violently hard, her breathless cries filling the air. Her head slumps forward as I start pumping into her with a wildness that surprises me.

"Fuck," I grunt. "Yes, yes."

This is it.

With a crude jerk of my hips, my orgasm is ripped from my core. I feel like someone has performed an exorcism on me, torn the devil out of my soul in a wave of hot cum. I fill her with it, and it keeps coming in torrents, hot and relentless.

I pump and thrust, her rear growing messier until I finally slip out. I watch as my cum drips out of her hole, running down over my cock, my balls, dripping onto the pew.

I don't think I've ever made such a mess before.

Without thinking, I swipe my fingers over my spent cum and shove it inside her cunt, pushing it inside with my fingers until she squirms, her body too sensitive. But I'm not trying to get her ready again. It's the sight of the gleaming white pearls on her pink flesh that does something to me, satisfies me like nothing else.

"Well," I say, taking a step back, my eyes coasting over the sight of her beautiful body.

She's going to need another bath.