Chapter Text
The old stony convent had needed restoration for quiet some time. Centuries old aged stone and wood that gave off cool and damp scent especially as it sat atop a hill in the outskirts of Naboo overlooking a quaint village. It had been succumbed to the elements, and years of rain had taken its toll.
As the winter was upon the Nuns and the Sisters who occupied the convent, Reverend Mother Amilyn had insisted that part of the wall of the main chapel be repaired imminently. It had been threatening of collapsing for too long. For now, the Nuns were strictly given the order of using the smaller chapel that was closer to the Chapter House.
The convent was vast with smaller size of Nuns and orphan girls who were housed and taught there. One of these girls was Novice Sister Raelyn or Sister Rey who was preparing to take her vows to become a Nun within the next six months. As one of the junior Sisters, Reverend Mother assigned her the task of overlooking the crew who was to repair the dampened walls of the main chapel.
Sister Rey, who had grown up in the orphanage as a young child, had many daily chores that varied from daily classes, helping the kitchen staff, and fixing appliances. She was gifted in restoring broken kitchen appliances and even the old truck that was used by the convent. So, Reverend Mother Amilyn thought this would be a wonderful opportunity for young Sister Rey who had just turned twenty in perhaps expanding her knowledge of building to be of better use to them in the future.
“Sister Raelyn, you’re here!” Sister Mara greeted Rey as they stood by the convent entrance. “The workers should arrive any moment. Be sure to supervise them daily and address their needs.”
Rey adjusted her simple black jumper dress and the white veil covering her hair, still getting used to the discomfort of her new attire. Her old civilian clothes felt like a distant memory now, as she prepared for the next chapter of her life.
A truck screeched to a halt outside, and two men stepped out. One, a red-haired man in baggy, stained jeans and a hoodie, introduced himself as Armie. The other, much taller, wore a flannel shirt over broad shoulders, his black wavy hair partially tucked under a cap. Rey’s breath caught as her eyes lingered on his strong hands, angular face, and piercing gaze. She chastised herself—she shouldn’t be noticing these things, let alone imagining more.
The men approached, tools in hand. “Thank you for coming,” Sister Mara began. “I’m Sister Mara, and this is Sister Raelyn.”
“Pleasure to meet you both,” Armie said, his tone friendly. “I’m Armie, and this is Kylo. We’re from First Order Construction. We spoke on the phone about the wall repair. Anything else you need, we’re here to help.”
Kylo. Rey’s pulse quickened at the sound of his name, especially when his deep baritone voice followed. “Sisters,” he greeted simply, his gaze locking with Rey’s for a moment too long. She felt her cheeks burn and fidgeted nervously with her veil.
After a brief discussion about logistics, Sister Mara emphasized the convent’s rules, urging discretion during working hours to avoid disturbing the girls at the orphanage. Kylo mostly listened, his quiet demeanor adding to the intensity of his presence. When he finally removed his cap, Rey noted the way his long fingers combed through his hair—a motion that made her stomach tighten uncomfortably.
“Sister Raelyn will be your point of contact,” Sister Mara concluded. “Raelyn, anything to add?”
Rey cleared her throat. “No, Sister. I’ll be in the prayer cell if needed.”
As she excused herself, Kylo’s lingering gaze seemed to follow her, his imposing frame and quiet intensity overwhelming her senses. Behind the closed door of the prayer cell, Rey exhaled shakily, gripping her prayer book in both hands. She tried to focus, but her thoughts betrayed her. The memory of Kylo’s voice, his broad shoulders, and the way he looked at her consumed her mind.
God forgive me, she thought, burying her face in her hands. This wasn’t who she was meant to be—not anymore. And yet, the burning ache within her refused to be silenced.
++++
The construction job was supposed to take a few weeks, but each day felt longer than the last. Rey greeted the two men—Kylo and Armie—with the same grace and humility she had been taught, but every morning she found herself fighting a storm of emotions inside. Kylo, with his quiet strength, his deep, unsettling presence, was like a force pulling at her. He barely spoke, just the occasional grunt or a few words, but his silence made her body hum with a need she couldn't control. Armie was the easy one—always chatting, his energy a stark contrast to Kylo’s brooding stillness. But it was Kylo who made her heart race.
She’d watch them while they worked, pretending to take notes in her prayer book, but all her focus was on him. The way his muscles shifted beneath his shirt, the roughness in his hands as he worked—everything about him made her pulse quicken. She’d bring lemonade or coffee, always looking for reasons to be near them. But it was Kylo who unsettled her most, who made the air feel thick, charged with something that could never be named.
Kylo was always polite, but distant. His kindness was restrained, minimal, just enough to be civil but never too much to cross any line. And yet, every day, Rey felt herself drawn to him, to the way he barely acknowledged her, the way his eyes would flicker briefly over her when he thought she wasn’t looking.
For the past two days, something had shifted. Kylo started sitting next to her during their breaks. Armie would go outside to smoke, but Kylo stayed inside, silently eating his lunch beside her, their proximity a slow burn that Rey didn’t know how to fight. It was as if he was toying with her, teasing her just by existing beside her. Every time he shifted, every time his leg brushed against hers, she felt her insides clench in anticipation, only to have him remain a cold, distant shadow.
One afternoon, Rey had baked chocolate chip cookies for them, her hands shaking slightly as she carried the plate into the chapel. She could feel the heat in her cheeks as she approached them. Kylo was crouching on the floor, his back muscles straining beneath his thin undershirt, and Rey couldn’t stop herself from staring. The way the fabric clung to his back, outlining the strong lines of his body, the way his forearms flexed as he worked—everything about him was a temptation she couldn't escape.
She hesitated for a moment, standing in the doorway, just watching him. His long hair fell over his face as he moved, and for a second, Rey’s heart skipped. When he turned, their eyes met.
“Oh, sister!” Kylo said, his voice low and unexpectedly warm. He reached out quickly, grabbing the plate from her hands, and Rey’s breath caught in her throat. Her hands were trembling as she tried to give it to him too quickly, and in her flustered haste, some cookies fell onto the floor.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered, crouching down to collect them, but Kylo was faster. He moved in a blur, his large hands sweeping over the fallen cookies with such precision it made her heart race.
Before she could react, he was right there, his hand reaching out to stop her. He gripped her wrist with surprising strength, holding her still as his deep voice rumbled, “Please, sister, let me take care of it for you.”
Rey froze, her body reacting to the warmth of his hand around her wrist, to the way his fingers held her with authority and care. She felt a rush of heat flood her chest, her skin tingling where he touched her. She nodded, unable to form any words, her pulse loud in her ears.
Kylo moved with casual grace, gathering the last of the cookies and wrapping them in a paper towel. His touch was steady, careful, and every brush of his hand against hers made her body tighten.
“Thank you for helping,” Rey said quietly, setting the plate on a nearby bench, her voice barely a whisper. She was trying to steady herself, but every part of her screamed with the need to run, to escape the magnetic pull he had over her.
“Don’t worry,” he replied, his voice still calm yet laced with something deeper. He brushed a lock of hair from his face, his fingers lingering on the strands, and Rey couldn’t tear her eyes away. His gaze met hers, dark and intense, and for a moment, the space between them seemed to vanish entirely.
“Where do you want these?” he asked, holding the cookies in his hand. His voice was thick, heavy, and Rey could feel the heat in her own body flare at the question.
“I’ll take them,” Rey managed, her throat dry. He handed her the cookies, but his fingers lingered just a second too long, brushing against hers. The touch was electric, making her heart race even faster.
Their eyes locked, and the air between them thickened, charged with an energy neither of them could deny. Kylo stepped closer, and Rey’s breath caught in her throat as she backed up slightly, her body reacting against her will. He brushed a strand of hair from her veil and tucked it gently behind her ear. The softness of his touch contrasted sharply with the intensity in his eyes, and for a moment, Rey felt as though she might collapse.
He was so close, so dangerously close, and the world around her seemed to narrow until there was only him, only the pull between them. She held the plate in her hands as if it could shield her from the overwhelming sensation of his presence, but it was useless. The heat between them was palpable, and Rey didn’t know how much longer she could resist it.
Breathe, Rey. Breathe.
“I understand our presence may be uncomfortable for you,” He stepped even closer that Rey could smell his musky body scent with her breathing raggedy heavy.
“I’m not uncomfortable,” Rey shot back, though her voice trembled slightly, betraying her composure. “You’re doing your jobs. I apologize if I ever gave that notion.”
“Good,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, like a predator toying with its prey. His eyes locked on hers, piercing, as if he could see straight through her defenses. “Because I think you like our presence more than you’re willing to admit.”
Her heart pounded in her chest as he leaned in just a fraction more, the heat of his body so close it was almost tangible.
“You’re awfully sure of yourself,” Her voice a mix of defiance and breathlessness.
“Am I wrong?” His lips quirked into the faintest smirk.
Rey opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out. She hated how her body betrayed her. She hated it almost as much as she wanted him to step even closer.
He tilted his head, his voice dropping to a whisper that sent shivers down her spine. “Say the word, and I’ll step away.”
But he didn’t move. Neither did she.
“Say the word,” he repeated, his voice thick with challenge, the smirk tugging at his lips.
Rey’s breath hitched, caught between the fire in his gaze and the dangerous weight of her own curiosity. But just as her lips parted to answer—The door swung open with a loud creak, and Armie strode in, a clipboard in hand and a furrow in his brow.
“Hey, do you know what the hell is going on with the shipment of timber? They sent pine instead of oak again, and the contractor is losing his—oh.”
Rey jolted back instinctively, trying to school her expression into something less flustered. He glanced up briefly from his clipboard, clearly not noticing the thick tension in the air, his focus squarely on his problem.
Armie waved the clipboard at Kylo, his tone exasperated. “I told them three times, oak! How hard is it to read an order form? Now half the beams are unusable, and we’re days behind schedule.”
“I’m sure you’ll handle it,” Kylo replied evenly, his eyes not leaving Rey for a moment, though his voice now carried a hint of impatience.
“Of course I’ll handle it,” Armie muttered, completely unaware. He flipped through the papers on his clipboard, mumbling to himself. “I swear, one more mistake and I’m going down there myself…”
Rey exhaled slowly, trying to steady her nerves, but her hands were still shaking clutching at the broken cookies. Armie’s oblivious rambling filled the room breaking the spell between them.
“Anyway,” Armie continued, scratching his head, “I figured I’d run it by you in case you have some genius solution to magically conjure oak out of thin air.”
“I don’t,” Kylo replied curtly, the edge in his tone sharper now.
Armie finally looked up, blinking at the sharpness in his voice. “Wow, someone’s cranky today.” He looked between the two of them and frowned slightly. “Wait, am I interrupting something?”
“No,” Rey said quickly, stepping away and brushing past Armie. “Not at all. I brought you both freshly baked cookies.”
Armie shrugged, still oblivious. “Oh, great! Cookies!”
As Rey left the room, Armie sighed and shook his head. “Seriously, pine. Who even uses pine for structural beams?”
Rey shut the door to the prayer room with trembling hands, a napkin of cookies were soon discarded on the table. It felt heavier than usual, like the air carried judgment. She stood there for a moment, leaning against the door, her eyes darting to the altar as if seeking some form of absolution. She walked to the kneeler, her steps slow and deliberate, but the weight in her chest didn’t lessen. Lowering herself onto it, she clasped her hands together, bowing her head. Yet the familiar ritual felt hollow, her thoughts still caught in the pair of pretty eyes staring deep into her soul.
He had been so close—too close. Unlike the other days, the heat of his presence lingered on her skin, as if his touch had already burned her, though he hadn’t laid a finger on her. And his voice... It wasn’t just the words, but the way he had spoken them, low and smooth, like a serpent whispering in her ear.
Rey squeezed her eyes shut, the shame surging up like a wave. He had known. Felt her weakness, and worse, he had reveled in it.
“Lord,” she whispered, her voice trembling, “keep him from me.”
Even as she prayed, his smirk lingered in her mind—a devil’s taunt, daring her to fall. His presence was sin incarnate: dark, irresistible, and utterly wrong. She had craved him when she should have turned away, her fists tightening as she pressed them to her forehead. “Forgive me,” she whispered, her voice breaking under the weight of her shame.
What kind of person succumbs so easily? What kind of person lets temptation poison their soul?
He wasn’t just a man; he was temptation itself—watching, waiting, pulling her away from her faith. Had he known how she hesitated? How a part of her didn’t want him to stop?
“I am weak,” she whispered, trembling. And yet, even in the quiet of the room, she could feel his presence, a lingering ache that refused to fade. She bit her lip, trying to silence the want clawing at her. And yet, even as she knelt there, she could still feel his presence through the physical manifestation of the wetness that had pooled between her legs.
He was the devil, and she had let him too close. Worse still, she wanted him closer. She prayed for strength, knowing deep down there would be a next time. There always was.
++++
Rey was grateful for being secluded inside the small prayer room felt like a sanctuary. She knelt on the padded kneeler, hands clasped tightly around her rosary, “Heavenly Father, forgive me, I have much to atone…” Her voice was barely audible, trembling under the strain of her conflicted heart.
It was late afternoon, nearing the hour when Kylo and Armie would leave for the day—a thought that should have brought relief. Instead, her mind raced with intrusive, shameful ideas that she couldn’t seem to banish. “Father, give me strength and patience…”
Her prayer was interrupted by a sudden knock at the door. Rey’s heart leapt, her fingers tightening around the rosary as though it might shield her. Rising to her feet, she opened the door just a crack, and there he was—Kylo.
His flannel shirt hung loose, unbuttoned to reveal the plain white tee underneath. His jeans sat low on his hips, and his dark hair was tousled as if he’d just run his fingers through it. He held a stack of papers, his expression calm, almost detached, but there was something about the way he filled the doorway that made Rey’s pulse quicken.
“Apologies, Sister,” he sad evenly as the deep timbre of his voice resonated through her. “I have the completed work order here and needed to go over them with you.”
Rey swallowed hard and nodded, opening the door wider to let him in. She didn’t close it all the way, leaving it ajar—a flimsy barrier between herself and whatever this moment threatened to become.
Kylo moved to the small desk, spreading the papers out with deliberate efficiency. The room was cramped, forcing Rey to stand close—too close. His scent reached her, earthy and sharp, mingling with the faint sweat. It was distracting, intoxicating in a way that made her grip her rosary tighter, the beads digging into her palm.
He shifted his weight, his forearms flexing as he organized the papers. Rey’s eyes betrayed her, tracing the dark hairs on his arms, the way his long fingers moved with precision. Her thoughts spiraled into forbidden places. Those hands—what they could do, where they could go.
“We haven’t completed the work yet,”His voice broke through her haze. He gestured to a section of the papers. “But we’re halfway through, and I need you to verify these steps with your signature below.”
Rey glanced at the documents, desperate for a distraction. “Have you spoken to Sister Mara about this?”
“It’s the end of the day,” he replied casually, his eyes meeting hers. “Almost six o’clock. I thought it best not to interrupt her.” His posture commanding. “And you’re here. Very conveniently.”
Her breath hitched at the subtle insinuation. “R-right…” She cleared her throat. But her focus was broken again—drawn to the faint beauty marks dotting his face, the mole on his neck, the way his dark eyes seemed to catch the light just so. She felt dizzy.
“Is this urgent?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “Could I… could I give them to you tomorrow morning?”
Kylo’s lips twitched, not quite a smirk but close enough to make her chest tighten. “Not urgent,” he said simply. “Please make sure to read everything and sign where I’ve marked.” He flipped through the pages, dragging out the process. Their hands brushed when he passed the papers to her, and Rey flinched at the contact, pulling away too quickly. The rosary slipped from her grasp, tumbling to the floor. She gasped, instinctively dropping to her knees to retrieve it, only to find Kylo doing the same.
Their shoulders collided, the intimacy of the moment sending a shockwave through her. She reached out, but her balance faltered, and his hand was there, steadying her by the upper arm. His touch burned through the fabric of her sleeve, and for a heartbeat, they were frozen, too close, too aware.
Rey yanked her arm back, clutching the rosary to her chest as she stood. “Thank you, Kylo,” she murmured, her voice tight with embarrassment. She turned toward the door, needing to escape before she drowned in the tension thickening the air. “I’ll make sure to give these to you and Armie tomorrow morning.”
Kylo didn’t move. He stayed rooted in place, his dark eyes watching her with an intensity that made her stomach churn. “Armie won’t be here for the next few days,” His voice low and deliberate. “He had to leave this afternoon to sort out the mishap about the materials.”
Rey’s hand froze on the door handle as he stepped closer, “It’s only me,” he added, his voice a velvet whisper. “Alone.”
Her throat tightened, the papers in her hands growing damp from her sweat. She dared a glance at him, and the weight of his gaze sent a shiver down her spine.
“I’ll... see you tomorrow,” she fumbled with the door. It’s only me. Alone. Her shame was a weight, but her body betrayed her, trembling with something she refused to name.
The air thickened as Kylo slammed the door shut, the sound startling Rey. Before she could react, his large frame loomed over her, his hands cupping her face as he captured her lips in a deep, desperate kiss. Her muffled gasp turned into a soft moan, her back pressing firmly against the door as his lips consumed her insides. His lips were soft yet needy with a wicked tongue coaxing inside her small mouth. Kylo’s moans echoed directly into her soul, and Rey couldn’t fight the temptation anymore. Her dainty fingers held onto his neck stabilizing her wobbling body.
His wicked tongue coaxed hers into a dance leaving her breathless. A low moan rumbled from his chest, resonating through her body. The kiss was frantic, their mouths colliding and pulling apart in ragged gasps. Heat radiated from his trembling body as his hands traced her form possessively. He smirked against her lips when her leg instinctively wrapped around his, grinding against him seeking something she couldn’t name. His beard scratched her soft skin, an intoxicating blend of rough and tender.
Kylo’s hands slid to her lower back, pulling her flush against him before breaking the kiss abruptly. He buried his face in her neck, his lips trailing down the fabric of her jumper, grunting at the barrier between them. Rey’s hands threaded through his hair, her breath hitching when he dropped to his knees before her.
His lips brushed her thighs through the layers of fabric, his hands hiking up her skirts with an almost feral desperation. The door rattled behind her, and her gaze flickered to the cross on the altar, but the sight was fleeting as her senses drowned in him—his touch, his heat, his need. When his teeth tugged at the fabric between them, Rey gasped, her entire body burning as she surrendered to the chaos of him.
Frustrated, Kylo groaned, his dark eyes meeting hers. “I want to kiss you— here.”
His words barely registered her, as he wasn’t a man in that moment — he was a feral untamed force, and she was powerless to resist. Kylo stood swiftly, reclaiming her lips with hunger. Her hands slid beneath his open shirt, tracing the hard ridges of his abdomen, her fingers trembling against his hot skin.
“Am I your temptation, little saint?” He whispered, before biting gently at her earlobe. Rey squirmed in his arms, as response.
“You’re the devil.” She murmured, tilting her head, giving him access to her neck. She felt his fingers undo the buttons of her veil, loosening and sliding off as her chestnut curls spilled freely down her shoulders. Kylo paused, admiring her with a boyish grin that softened his hard features.
“Ah, you’re perfect.” He gasped before capturing her lips again. His hands moved with purpose, lifting her skirt as his palm pressed against her aching core. Rey bit her lip to stifle her sound.
“You’re the devil…here to tempt me.” She cried out.
Kylo grazed his teeth over her soft neck, then growled “Yes, I am.”
He rubbed against her, back and forth, achingly slowly while the layers did nothing to muffle the intense heat pooling between her legs.
“Does this feel good, little saint? Am I your temptation?”
Rey could only nod, “Shall I hiss in your ear with my forked tongue?” He breathed in her ear, “Or would prefer it elsewhere?”
Overwhelmed with emotions, she couldn’t respond. Kylo shifted her, lifting her onto the table, “Sit here,” he commanded, “Open your legs.”
He crouched on the floor, between her thighs, rolling down her black stockings with agonizing slowness, her damp underwear followed shortly. She closed her eyes tightly in shame, unable to look at him, fingers gripping table’s edges in anticipation. This was nothing like she’d experienced before. No stolen kisses with village boys had prepared her for this. For this moment. For him.
Her eyes flew open at the first press of his hot tongue against her, that one hot place that ached most during her lonely nights. Those nights when she imagined a dark, faceless man, only now, he had a face—his face— and he was devouring her like a starved beast. He gripped her thighs tightly, holding her steady as he groaned with pleasure vibrating against her folds. He was savoring her, drinking from her. Just as her breaths turned ragged, she gasped sharply as he pressed his finger deep inside her without any warning. She leaned back, completely undone.
“My tight little saint, you like this? Your wet little cunt needs it.” He grinned as his finger moved in and out of her in a slow, deliberate rhythm. Rey tried instinctively to close her legs, but his firm grip kept her open, vulnerable.
“You want more from the devil?” His voice taunted.
Rey couldn’t form words, her body writhing helplessly against his finger in response.
“Answer me!” He demanded.
“Yes…yes, please..” Her voice trembled with need.
His tongue pressed against her most sensitive spot as two thick fingers slid inside her, stretching her in a way she’d never experienced. Rey had only ever known the touch of her own delicate fingers, hidden beneath the covers at night, where she hoped God couldn’t see. But here, in the open and undeniable presence of the Divine, Kylo was taking her, unapologetically claiming her body with his tongue and fingers, his every motion deliberate and consuming.
The sensation was overwhelming, a storm gathering, coiling tighter and tighter as his ministrations built her up. The world blurred, his muffled sounds and the wet rhythm of flesh drowned out by the crescendo building in her core. Then, like a dam breaking—a tidal wave of ecstasy ripped through her body, leaving her shaking, convulsing, and utterly undone.
For a brief moment, there was nothing but the aftershocks of her release, rolling through her limbs like the echoes of a distant explosion. There was no shame, no guilt—only raw sensation.
When Rey opened her eyes again, she found herself cradled in Kylo’s arms, still seated on the edge of the table. Her skirt had been smoothed down, and he had clumsily covered her legs with her stockings and underwear. His lips brushed over her temple, tender now, as if the beast within him had been tamed. His scent—earthy, musky, intoxicating—lingered as she buried her face against his chest, inhaling deeply.
Would it be too much if she kissed the hollow of his throat? Too desperate if she asked him to follow her to her room and do it all over again? The thought made her cheeks flush, but the ache in her chest told her she already knew the answer.
Kylo reclaimed her lips, the taste making Rey flinch slightly. Her body remained pliant, unable to resist as he guided her hand down to the bulge straining against his jeans. “This is what you do to me,” he murmured, “Every night, I lie in my empty bed and fuck my hand, imagining it’s your sweet, tight little cunt.” His lips trailed down to her neck, “or small little mouth,” his breath hot against her skin. “Touch me. Let me feel you, my little saint.”
Rey’s trembling fingers pressed against him, unsure but eager, and she squeezed lightly, drawing a sharp inhale from Kylo. His words, low and sinful, rippled through her. “That’s it. Just like that. Make me remember this moment so I can survive the nights without you.”
“Kylo...” she whispered, her breath catching as his lips claimed hers again.
“Say my name,” he demanded, his voice a growl in her ear.
She buried her face in his neck, inhaling his scent as her hand rubbed against the thick ridge of him through his jeans. “Kylo...” she repeated, the word leaving her lips like a prayer. He groaned, unbuckling his belt and pulling down his zipper. Gently, he guided her hand inside his briefs, her small fingers brushing against the scorching heat of his manhood. He was impossibly hard, smooth and slick at the tip with something leaking. Rey kept her eyes closed, focusing instead on the solid warmth of his neck against her lips.
“Like this,” he coaxed, wrapping his hand over hers and showing her how to move. “Up and down, little saint. Squeeze gently... that’s what you do to me.” His lips pressed to her temple, his moans shallow as she followed his lead. “Keep going.”
She didn’t know when to stop, but Kylo's body writhed against her, his hips moving in sync, slowly fucking her hand. He held her tightly, their bodies flush as his breathing grew heavier. His lips latched onto hers again, almost bruising, his teeth grazing her lip. His hand covered hers over his hard member, urging her faster and faster until his body tensed violently, and a guttural grunt escaped his throat. Hot liquid spilled over their hands as his release came in waves.
Rey stayed frozen, feeling the hot liquid on her hand but his lips sought hers in choppy, desperate kisses. When he was calmer, she found herself gently caressing his cheek, their foreheads pressed together in shared silence. He kissed the tip of her nose softly, his voice tender as he murmured, “Let me help you.” Kylo stripped off his flannel, wiping her hand clean before tending to himself.
“You’ll be cold,” Rey whispered, her voice dazed, her gaze fixed on him.
“I’ve got another hoodie in the car,” he said with a faint, boyish smile. He carefully helped her down from the table, as though they hadn’t just done—that. He found her veil and handed it to her with a teasing smirk. Rey clutched it tightly, watching as he stepped back, grabbing the soiled flannel as if it were a keepsake of their shared sin.
His eyes flicked to the scattered papers on the floor. “I’ll get those tomorrow, little saint,” His voice laced with wicked amusement. He winked before turning and closing the door behind him, leaving her alone in the aftermath.
Rey let out a shaky sigh, her body leaning against the table for support. She had given herself to the devil, and she knew, with absolute certainty, that she was ready to burn with him for eternity.