"Say it," he demanded.
Faith's breath escaped in a rush, and she admitted everything. "I want your cock so bad it hurts. Please fuck me, Troy. Please."
She had time only to see the heat in his smile before he plunged into her, the entire length of him in a single stroke. The shock of his brute force immediately gave way to raging need, and Faith's head fell back as she lost herself in the rhythm of their two bodies.
Troy didn't deny her again. He guided her up and down the length of his cock with his hands on her hips, starting slow and growing faster and more urgent every time.
She ground against him, desperate to feel his touch on her special spot, the place whose purpose she'd never understood until now. She couldn't wait for Troy to give her pleasure, not anymore—she wanted to take it for herself. To give it back to him.
The fire inside her blazed out of control, sweat forming on her brow and her cries growing hoarse and insistent as she bucked and clawed and begged for more.
She crested the peak over and over again, calling out Troy's name every time she broke—so many times she lost count.
Each time strengthened the invisible bond between them and beat back the harsh teachings of her church until she almost started to believe what Troy had said about this being heaven. Maybe, just maybe, this was meant to be—and would last for all eternity.
Then she felt Troy stiffen. He propped his hand against the wall for support as she felt the ecstasy of his knot swelling inside her, binding them together in the most primal way.
A strange need came over Faith, one so urgent that she didn't bother trying to understand it. And yet it was shocking. She had never been compelled to do anything like it in her life, but…
Her mouth opened of its own accord, clamping down on the curve of his shoulder, tasting his skin but needing more. More.
"Yes," Troy roared, holding the back of her head. "Do it! Bite me!"
Faith's eyes flew open, and she yanked her head back, the urge severed like a frayed rope.
Bite him? She wasn't an animal. This wasn't a sacrifice. Up until a second ago, Faith had fooled herself into believing that what they did together was almost holy…but this—it was horrifying. She could barely believe her ears.
But she didn't need to. She'd already felt the urge to bite him pulsing hard through her veins. She didn't want to believe it, but there was no denying what she'd about to do—sink her teeth into his flesh.
Which made it clear this wasn't heaven after all.
This was the devil's doing. Only he would demand a blood sacrifice.
Chapter Eleven
For the first time, Faith woke to find herself lying in Troy's arms in the morning. She lay still, not wanting to wake him, wondering what made him stay and enjoying the warmth of his deep, even breath against her neck.
She'd never felt so protected. So cherished.
Faith winced at the thought. Don't get ahead of yourself. It was dangerous to hope for too much—at least, that was the lesson she had learned in her parents' house, where making the mistake of asking for something they deemed ungodly—like the pink toy guitar she'd once asked for—could result in a beating.
And the things Faith wished for when she was in this half-asleep state were very dangerous.
Two more minutes. She would give herself that, and then she would get up out of bed and…and…
Faith had no idea. She didn't know what in the world she was going to do with her day. She didn't know what was expected of her. What was needed.
All she knew was that as long as she lay here in Troy's embrace, she didn't have to worry about any of that.
And he made it easy to close her eyes and pretend that being here in his bed with him was all she needed to do. The only place she needed to be.
There was nothing urgent in Troy's touch right now, nothing demanding. Instead of scorching heat, Faith felt a soothing warmth that permeated every inch of her body, making her feel calm and safe.
She longed to lose herself in Troy's embrace and go back to sleep, but that would only delay the inevitable. The harsh reality of her life was going to come galloping back sooner or later. Better to get up now and face it while the sun was shining rather than avoid it by sleeping another day away.
Her mother's admonitions about idle hands echoed in her head. For the last nineteen years, Faith had been taught that rising past dawn was slothful and therefore sinful, and she'd learned to keep herself busy with chores or risk her parents' wrath. Now, her lovely relaxed feeling was quickly vanishing in a tide of guilt, leaving her with an urgent need to do something.
Faith tried to slip out from under Troy's arm, but the second she moved, he pulled her even closer.
"You don't want to get up yet," he murmured against her ear, his voice husky with sleep.
"Why not?"
"It's cold out there. Stay here with me where it's warm, and I'll build us a fire in a little while."
Faith considered. The air did have a bite to it, and his bed was so comfortable, with its flannel sheets and woolen blankets, mounds of soft pillows, and, most of all, his warm body wrapped around her.
"Do you always sleep this late?" she ventured.
She felt him shrug. "Only on Saturdays."
So that's what day it was.
Faith bit her lip, realizing she'd been here in the Boundarylands almost a week already. Her parents must be beside themselves with worry.
But that was wishful thinking. The truth was
