Page 54 of Satan's Priest

He panted as he thrust his thick fingers into me, his thumb rolling on my clit.

“This isn’t right!” I cried, my hips bucking against his hand. My body betrayed me with its movements and the pleasure Dad gave me.

When the floor creaked nearby, my eyes snapped open. Mom stood with her arms folded over her chest, watching as Dad fingered me. She didn’t look upset about this. Malice twisted her soft features as she glared at me.

“Mom,” I croaked. I swallowed a moan as Dad curled his fingers inside me. His meaty hand gripped my thigh, digging his fingertips into my sensitive skin and likely leaving bruises.

“Shut up, Grace. You did this to yourself,” Mom snapped.

A scream erupted from me as Dad forced me to orgasm again. My channel clamped down on his thrusting fingers and drew him deeper into me.

I panted as I floated back down and watched as Dad slipped his fingers from my vagina. He held the bloody digits in front of him, his nostrils flaring as he breathed hard through his nose.

“You’re lucky,” he growled, his voice husky.

How the heck was I bleeding?

I stared wide-eyed at him as he released his hold on me and got back to his feet, still holding his hand in front of him. He stared at the blood like it had taken the Lord’s name in vain. His lips parted like he was about to stick the digits into his mouth to taste me, then he dropped his hand and swiped it on his pants.

“Go to your room,” Dad demanded. “And pray for forgiveness for what you made me do.”

I shot off the couch. My skirt fell into place, and I dashed up the stairs. I wanted to slam my door shut, but I quietly closed it and flung myself onto my bed, burying my face into my pillow. My tears soaked it as I sobbed, trembling and feeling so fucking dirty about what had just happened.

“Grace.”

I ignored the voice, too tired and broken to care.

“Grace.”

I screamed into my pillow, beating my fists against it as I released all the rage and pain into it.

“He’ll pay for what he did,”the scratchy feminine voice whispered.

30

DAIMAN

Ifound Grace fast asleep in her bed, dried tear tracks on her cheeks. It was past midnight, but I’d hoped the girl would still be awake. I got sidetracked today, searching for answers about why Grace returned to life and became a succubus. I hadn’t found a reason. Yet. But I would find out one way or another. Even Lucien was searching for answers, and he came back empty-handed, left with more questions.

I trailed my fingers over her soft cheek and gazed down at her. Why was she crying before she fell asleep? What happened to her?

More questions and no answers. When I next saw her, I’d ask.

For now, I stood beside her bed, watching her as she slept. She looked so peaceful. The crease between her eyebrows lay flat. Her full lips parted as she took deep, even breaths.

What was she dreaming? I could find out, but I didn’t want to slip into her mind and watch from the shadows.

A soft whimper slipped past her lips, and I frowned. Her eyebrows bunched together, and her eyes moved behind her closed lids. Whatever she dreamed, it was upsetting her. An alarming scent rose from her.

I pulled back the covers and found her still dressed in her school uniform. The scent of copper and musk grew stronger as I slowly raised her skirt. I eased apart her legs. Blood stained the sheets between her thighs. She wasn’t wearing any underwear, which raised more red flags.

It could have been her period.

I lowered her skirt and replaced the sheet to keep her warm. Turning my gaze back to her face, I tensed as I found her eyes—open but all black.

“Succubus,” I murmured in greeting. It wasn’t Grace who was looking at me. It was her inner demon, and she looked fucking pissed.

“Touch us, and I’ll kill you,” she warned, her voice deep and gravelly. To anyone else, it would have been like nails on a chalkboard.