My forehead touches my knuckles, my hair long and loose over my shoulders. Because everything in my closet is fitted, short, or sexy in some manner, Rosa has lent me a white, long-sleeved, shapeless dress. I am relatively calmer hidden beneath it with my sins. Deep in the recesses of my thoughts, I don’t hear Calvin enter. It’s the creak of the pew directly behind me that draws me from my prayer. His presence is strong at my back. Through the cotton of my gown, his hand cups my bottom, his fingers curling under but not quite reaching their target.
“What are you doing?” I whisper.
His hand moves, rubbing me as my body devolves into pure panic. My heart stutters and stammers against my chest as his fingers move deeper toward my clit with each slide.
“Y-you can’t do this,” I stammer. “Not here.”
“I can do whatever I like to you because you’re my possession. I own you.”
“No, you don’t,” I say in hushed fury.
“I don’t?”
“No.”
The wood groans again, and his heat envelops me, his mouth moving to my ear. “You keep denying that you’re mine. Do you belong to someone else?”
“I belong to no one.”
“I’m glad you think so. I have a debt that can’t be paid with money. Since you don’t feel obligated to me, I think I’ll have you repay it on my behalf.”
“What are you talking about?” His massaging is harder now, my body warming against my every instinct. I fight it entirely, but his fingers are too skilled. When his other hand closes around my breast, my body convulses slightly.
“You’ll fuck my friend because I say so. Because you aren’t mine. Perhaps I’ll watch, or even record it so we can watch it together.”
My loud words echo in the small room. “No. You’re psychotic.”
He moans hot breath against my ear. My knuckles shake as I crush my intertwined fingers together. “Then tell me this is mine,” he says, squeezing between my legs with a firm grip. “That’s all I ask.”
“Never,” I whisper.
He gathers up the dress behind me and slips his hand underneath, caressing up the inside of one thigh. “My stubborn sparrow. Your pride will only hurt you.”
One finger pushes into me, and my vision blurs. It delves deeply into my heat, and I know when he removes it, it’s wet. It returns with a second finger, driving up again until he can’t push any deeper. “How many fingers do you think I can fit inside you before you come?”
My shoulders shudder with a sob. His hand on my breast slides up around my neck and under my chin, forcing my head up. “Keep your eyes open,” he says. The Virgin Mary looks down on us impassively, and I’m forced to watch her as his fingers curve inside me and massage, causing my body to tighten up. “Not yet,” he says. “Two is nothing.”
A third finger presses inside, and I’m full with him.
“Tell Him,” he says. “Confess how naughty you’ve been.”
I shake my head in his grasp.
“Confess,” he hisses. “I know you touch yourself at night and think of me.”
My denial is garbled by the lump in my throat.
“You liked when I fucked you, and you want me to do it again. Say it.”
“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”
He groans, and his erection jabs into my ass cheek.
“I’ve had impure thoughts and committed impure acts.”
“Did you touch yourself?”
“Yes.”
“Did you wish it was me?”
“Yes,” I say as tears roll down my cheeks. “And I wished you would do it again.”
His fingers spread inside me to welcome a fourth. I groan loudly and attempt to squirm away. His movements are fast and hard now, and his thumb presses against my anus.
“You’re dripping all over my hand. I wonder if you’ll come this way, or if you need more.”
I gasp. “More?”
“I have ten fingers, don’t I? A fist?”
“Oh my God.”
He chuckles in my ear. “Thou shalt not take the Lord’s name in vain.”
I’m too afraid to come and too afraid not to. I’m dissolving into nothing but tears that stream from the corners of my eyes as my head is tilted up. His fingers still, and his other hand releases my throat to pet my hair. My head drops, but I incline slightly into his gentle touch. His thrusting starts again, this time soft but deliberate.
“There, there,” he whispers. “It’s okay. I’ll make you come this way.”
True to his word, he removes the pressure from my anus and swivels his hand to replace his thumb on my clit. His rhythm goes unbroken as he pushes me to the edge, whispering nothings into my ear, and stroking my hair. My orgasm crests, and I reach back to grip his hand in my hair, squeezing it as my thighs tremble and my pussy constricts around his fingers.
My body wholly unclenches, and I melt against the pew in front of me. He removes his hand and pulls my dress down, smoothing it over my backside with a saint’s touch.
Behind me he moans with a sucking noise, and says, “So sweet.” His breath is hot on the back of my neck as he kisses me once on my hair. He leaves without another word.
29
I am strangely liberated after my forced confession. Whatever was blocking my vision shifted, allowing me to see my situation with Calvin for what it is. My mind is submitting to my body, understanding that I not only accept but want what I know is wrong.
Early afternoon sun skims the dying leaves outside my window. My heart thumps with thoughts of Calvin’s hand making its way inside me while I revealed shameful secrets. It’s been days since I’ve seen him, but the memory is fresh at all hours.
My door opens without announcement, and Calvin enters. “Good afternoon, Cataline,” he says as he approaches. “My little sparrow on her perch.”
“It looks like a nice day.”
“Truth be told, it’s a bit chilly for my taste. Good thing we shut your window; I’d hate for you to catch a cold.”
“Yes, good thing,” I murmur.
“I have a proposition for you. I promised to consider letting you outdoors for good behavior.”
My spine straightens immediately. My breathing stops.
“Before you get excited, I have one last assignment for you. I’m not sure you can handle it, though.”
“I can,” I promise. “Anything.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Anything?”
His threat in the chapel returns to me suddenly and without mercy. I’d somehow blocked it out until this moment, and the memory is almost crippling. I grip the edge of the sill. My stomach flips violently at the thought of Calvin sharing me with someone else, and my shoulders slump again. “What is it?”
“In my position, I’m expected to support different causes through donations or by making appearances. Long ago I agreed to host a charity ball here at the mansion. There will be food, dancing, socializing, that sort of thing.”
“A party,” I supply.
“Sure. A party. I don’t care for them, but it comes with the territory. If I could throw the event without attending, I would. Now, your behavior has improved since your arrival, but it’s far from ideal. I can’t very well have you screaming at the top of your lungs while I have guests downstairs.”
My hands flex as though clinging to his every word. “What are you going to do with me?”
He clears his throat, adjusting his stance. “You have the opportunity to plead your case to me. Either I tape your mouth shut and lock you in the basement, or you make yourself useful to the caterer and serve food.”
I blink my confused shock. “You want me to serve food? To people?”