Lessons in Sin - Pam Godwin Page 0,43

ended, and silence assailed, magnifying the harshness of our breaths.

I glanced at the door. It was locked, but I knew from experience that if someone pressed their ear against it, they would hear our conversation.

“Magnus.” I twisted beneath him, swiveling my hips to sit on the edge of the desk.

The action cost me, dragging unbearable pain through my abused backside.

With his legs imprisoning mine, he loosened his grip on my hair but didn’t back away. Instead, he pressed in, his chest heaving, our foreheads touching. He smelled like man and God and war.

The war was still waging. Clashing and burning behind his eyes. I’d sensed his internal struggle so many times before and pressed on with my selfish agenda anyway.

I was the biggest asshole of all.

As part of my religious training over the past six weeks, I’d received the sacraments of Baptism and Confession. I’d fought the whole process in my usual way, going so far as refusing to sit in that creepy dark closet and talk about my sins.

But right now, I felt guilty. I was sick to the pit of my soul with guilt.

It was time to confess.

With a shaky hand, I reached up and rested my fingers against his steely jaw. “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. This is my first confession.”

His breath left him.

“I tried to seduce a priest.” I licked my lips, inches from his. “It was selfish. Vindictive. I want to go home and thought only of my needs, not once considering what would become of him if I succeeded.”

“Is there anything else?” His voice dipped, gruffly sexy and thick with desire.

“I cuss every day and masturbate every night.”

“Tinsley…” He groaned.

“I shouldn’t have said that last part, even if it’s true.” I sighed against his mouth, savoring his heat, his delicious dark scent. “I have a lot of sins, Father. I’m sorry for some of them.”

“Only some?”

“Not gonna lie.”

“You rarely do.” The hand in my hair went slack, his fingers sliding downward to linger along my jawline, caressing. “You’re the most honest person I know. Except for maybe Crisanto.”

“That’s sad.”

“Not for me. For your penance, pray an Act of Contrition.”

“Okay.” I swallowed my pride and held his gaze. “O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended you…”

I regurgitated the prayer from memory in a tone that lacked my typical mockery.

If I could recite every prayer like this—with his hand on my face and his mouth close enough to kiss—I would do it without complaint. So I said the words slowly, drawing it out, never wanting it to end.

He closed his eyes, listening with a serene expression, but the tension didn’t leave his rigid body. He didn’t release me, didn’t move away. He held me as if he were never letting go.

I finished the prayer.

He opened his eyes. “God the Father of mercies, I absolve you from your sins, in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

I made the sign of the cross as he said the words. “Amen.”

“Go in peace.” He dropped his fists to the desk on either side of my hips.

“Thank you, Father.”

“Go,” he whispered.

“Magnus?” Uncertain, I sat motionless in the cage of his arms. His command said one thing, but his body language implied that if I twitched a muscle, he would be on me.

“This isn’t over. I can’t… I won’t be able to stop this.”

“What if—?”

“Go!”

At the bellow of his voice, my words shrank into the back of my throat, my limbs already springing into action.

I had to push him with all my strength because he wasn’t moving. The effort gave me a sliver of space between the desk and the brick wall of his body to make my escape.

I didn’t look back until I was through the door and in the hallway.

He stood where I’d left him, leaning forward with his fists on the desk, arms straight, head down, and chin pressed to his chest. But his eyes were on me, glowing like blue flames beneath the veil of his lashes.

I hesitated.

“Go, Tinsley.” Nothing moved but his lips, his voice low and guttural. “Run.”

I ran. Through the building, down the stairs, and straight to the grove, I didn’t stop until I reached the opossums’ hollow.

Jade and Willow weren’t there, but that had become more common in the past few days. They were venturing out and scavenging for their meals, returning only to sleep during the day.

My mind raced a mile a minute as I stood there catching my breath.