The Angel. Tiffany ReiszЧитать онлайн книгу.
contracted wildly around Søren’s fingers.
She lay underneath him gasping through the orgasm that was so intense her lower back spasmed. After a few minutes her heart slowed and her eyes were able to focus again.
“You cheated.”
“I can’t imagine what you’re referring to,” Søren said, carefully pulling his hand out of her sore opening.
“You brought up the day we met. That’s cheating.”
Søren rolled onto his back and Nora crawled on top of his chest and collapsed against him.
“You’re the one who is going to be sleeping with two young men who are not me this summer, and you accuse me of cheating?”
Nora grinned up at him.
“Jealous?”
“Not even remotely,” he said and she knew it was true. Søren’s certainty in her love for him precluded even the slightest hint of jealousy. He couldn’t care less who she had sex with as long as he owned her. More than not caring, Søren was aroused by the sight and thought of her with other men. He didn’t even mind if she did kink with others as long as no one hurt her—that was his job alone.
“Speaking of jealous, Simone and Robin said they’d happily take my place on the rack this summer while I’m gone.”
“Lovely girls, both of them,” Søren said, smiling. If Nora was going to spend the summer in bed with two other guys, the least she could do for Søren was arrange for him to have access to two of the most beautiful, well-trained and discreet submissives in the Underground. She knew he wouldn’t have sex with them. Sadism was sex for him. So Søren going two months without beating someone would be akin to her going two months without sex—horrifying thought.
“Now I’m afraid this nonsense will have to end. I’m hearing confessions in—” Søren paused and glanced at the clock on the fireplace mantel “—four hours.”
Nora winced.
“Shit, I knew there was something I was supposed to do before I left. Will you have time for me before I leave tomorrow morning?” she asked. She’d meant to go to confession during the past week but had completely forgotten. Wasn’t her fault. She blamed her editor Zach—the other sadist in her life—for sending her fifty pages to revise in two days.
“I can hear it now if you like.”
Sitting up, Nora buttoned Søren’s shirt over her breasts. Søren rolled up and faced her. And although he too wore his black pants and nothing else, the minute he met her eyes, she knew her lover had gone, and she now sat in the presence of her priest alone.
Nora took a deep breath and began.
“God have mercy on me, a sinner.”
“‘Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten in God’s sight. But even the hairs on your head are all counted. Do not be afraid; you are of more value than many sparrows.’”
Nora smiled. Luke chapter twelve, verses six and seven—one of her favorite passages.
“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been …”
“Eight days,” Søren supplied.
“Eight days since my last confession. Let’s see … where to start?”
“Pace yourself, Eleanor. If you forget something, I will remind you.”
“Oh, thank you very much, Father. You are too kind. I have done some serious lusting this week.”
“Per usual.”
“I lied in a phone interview. Not the first time for that, either. They wanted to know summer plans and I said I’d probably be overseas working on a new book. Let’s see … what else? Oh, I got a big fat royalty check and I didn’t give a damn bit of it to charity.”
“To whom much is given, much is required,” Søren reminded her. God knew he certainly had room to talk.
“I know,” Nora said and sighed. She did know. She just needed a refresher of that every now and then. “Does the church need anything?”
“Owen’s parents have suffered financially this year. Not terribly but they may have to put him into public school.”
“Public school? That little guy will get eaten alive in public school. He loves St. Xavier.”
“St. Xavier is not inexpensive.”
“Will five cover it?”
“Yes, and then some.”
Nora nodded. Not that long ago she could make 5K in a few hours topping someone. Surely Owen deserved as much kindness as her clients received of her cruelty.
“I’ll leave a check on the kitchen table tomorrow morning. Don’t tell them it’s from me.”
“Of course not. Anything else?”
“Well, I did do blood-play with a priest this evening, after which came much fucking.”
“Those were good works.”
“I’ll say.”
“Eleanor, what else?”
She heard in Søren’s voice an expectation. He knew she had more to confess.
“I lied about something else,” she finally whispered.
“You never have to be afraid to tell me anything,” Søren said, in that priestly tone that coaxed confessions like scared shadows from the darkest corners of hearts.
“You asked me today why I don’t answer the phone when Wes calls. I said it was because you hadn’t given me permission. That wasn’t the truth.”
Nora stared at the floor, unwilling and unable to meet Søren’s eyes.
“What is the truth?”
Swallowing, Nora forced herself to meet his eyes.
“I think,” she began and took a hard breath, “it wouldn’t be good for us if I did.”
Søren seemed to study her through the low and dying light of the fireplace. Her heart ached at the thought of hurting Søren. But he wanted the truth from her no matter what.
“Your penance,” he began and she braced herself.
“Yes, Father?”
“Make your peace with Wesley this summer while you’re away from me. Make your peace and do not return to me until you do.”
Nora’s stomach clenched. Make her peace with Wesley? What did that even mean? Just get over him? Or would she have to talk to him? She didn’t know. She didn’t want to know.
“Yes, Father” was all she could answer.
She bent her head.
“Through the ministry of the Church may God give you pardon and peace, and I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”
Nora crossed herself.
“Amen.”
Nora stood up with a heavy heart. She hated that on their last night together before she left, she’d had to confess something so hurtful. But suddenly she was off her feet and in Søren’s arms. Without a word, he carried her upstairs to his bedroom.
“You aren’t angry?” she asked as he stripped her of his shirt and laid her in the bed. He slipped out of his pants and pressed his naked body into hers.
“Eleanor, will you ever learn that when I say ‘I love you’ I mean it?”
“Eventually maybe,” she said and smiled at him through the dark. “I’ll miss you so much this summer. Are you sure I have