Page 51 of Satan's Priest
God didn’t care. These rules about sins of the flesh were created by misogynistic and corrupt men who wanted to keep women under their thumb and put the fear of God in everyone else.
I tapped my thumbs together, waiting for her to say something. When she didn’t, I peeked at her from the corner of my eye. “Is there anything else you wish to confess?”
“I think about sex all the time,” she breathed.
I pursed my lips. “It’s a human thought to have. God made us imperfect, child. Remember, his only begotten son died for us. Every second of every day, we don’t measure up in his eyes. Our bodies have natural reactions to what stimulates us. Anger, sadness, happiness . . . lust.” Grace silently sat in her booth, listening to me and hanging on my every word. “If God didn’t want us to have these types of reactions, then he wouldn’t have allowed us to feel aroused, don’t you think?”
“He’s testing us,” she softly argued, clinging to any reason why she shouldn’t give in to her desires. Why she should keep worshipping a god who didn’t give a fuck about her.
“If he was testing us, that would make him a cruel god, don’t you think?”
“But the Bible—”
“Was written by a bunch of men a hundred years after Jesus died. The true words of the son of God and the creator were warped, time after time. Humans continue to change it to fit their narrative to bend the wills of clueless believers like you.”
“Father?” Insecurity and confusion sent a crack through Grace’s voice.
“God isn’t testing you, child. Having thesesinfulthoughts and performing these actions isn’t as bad as you would like to believe. God created you to live your life and enjoy the simple things in it. Even if it’s on your knees as you suck some stranger’s cock while hidden in the shadows so daddy doesn’t see what you’re doing.”
Grace shot to her feet, whipped open the door to her booth, and bolted out.
I fixed my Roman collar, stepped out of my box, and followed her. Her blonde hair bounced with her quick steps as she left the chapel.
A group of girls looked at me, their eyes darkening and hunger flashing across their faces. I ignored them and strode out of the room, following Grace’s retreating figure.
She jogged to the front of the school and slammed her hands into the bar across the door. I hurried my steps, following her outside. A gust of wind blew at us, and fat raindrops spilled from the sky. I slipped my hands into my pockets and followed her down the wide concrete stairs in front of the school.
“You haven’t fed,” I called to her.
28
GRACE
My spine straightened. I slowly turned around and peeked at Lucien from the corner of my eye, refusing to fully look at him. “What?” I asked, wanting to smack myself for saying it. I heard him loud and clear but couldn’t believe his audacity.
He stopped five feet from me, his hands in his pockets. The rain fell on us. Water droplets hung from his dark, irresistible eyelashes. Because of my hunger, I wanted to lick the raindrops from his skin, slowly trailing down his chest, stomach, and to his groin.
He didn’t sport any of the makeup he usually wore. No skull face paint, no kohl-rimmed eyes. I didn’t know which version of him was better—the masked gothic cult leader, the Halloween skeleton bad boy, or the man in a priest outfit who oozed sex from every pore.
“You haven’t fed,” he said again. His voice was an octave deeper and raspy. It was just as I remembered when I last talked to him. Hearing him talk made me go weak-kneed and tremble with need.
I hated him with every fiber of my being. But my hungry side wanted to feel him stretch me beyond reason.
These aren’t my thoughts. They can’t be.
I fully turned toward him, crossing my arms over my chest. A gust of chilly wind blew at us. My damp blonde hair danced around my head, and a few strands fell over my face. I didn’t bother to swipe them away.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, wanting to sound strong but sounding exhausted instead. Because that was how I felt. I was tired of always being hungry and fighting this thing inside me that wanted out so it could hunt.
Lucien stared at me with a blank look. A crease formed between his dark eyebrows, like it was permanent from scowling so much. He lowered his brows over his even darker eyes. If I looked long enough at him, I would lose myself in their inky depths.
Lucien wasn’t happy about seeing me, either. Which I was totally fine about . . .totally fine. The man killed me and never apologized.
“You think I would allow you to go unmonitored? Use your brain, succubus.”
I snapped my gaze around us, making sure no one heard what he’d said. When the coast was clear, I glared at Lucien, who watched me with an arched brow.
“You think I’m stupid?” he said with a slight growl.