The Tattoo Artist (La Petite Mort #1)

13. Chapter 13

thirteen

Quinn

D inner had been a disaster. It didn't surprise me that the same people who claim to be dedicated Catholics and Christians were the worst when it came to judging others—some, not all.

"No, that girl is out of control! With the mother she had, I was surprised she didn't get pregnant at fifteen. Father LaCroix, bless his heart." My mother chuckled as she gossiped with Mrs.Walsh. My father was with Owen and Mr.Walsh in his home office. I couldn't get the kiss out of my head. My fingers brushed against my lips every now and then. His lips felt perfectly against mine. I could still taste him. He tasted masculine, spicy, but sweet all in one.

He took my first kiss, but I didn't regret it a single bit. For some reason, I felt like we had intense chemistry. And God did it feel amazing. "Quinn, how is your final year of school? Have you decided what university you will be going to?" Mrs.Walsh asked me. I sit up properly, peeling my fingers away from my lips. Mrs. Walsh smiled at me softly.

"It's going really well. I have a huge project coming up that will determine what university I go to." Mrs.Walsh laughed softly. I stand up to assist my mother in clearing the table. I couldn't wait for them to leave. I wanted to return to my room and see if I could see him again. I wanted to see him outside my window.

Deimos could have done anything. He could have hugged me, but he took advantage of the situation and kissed me. I was glad he did. Feeling his lips against mine had me wanting more. I licked my lower lip and thanked God that he did that because that kiss alone was everything.

After clearing the table, we made our way over to the living room. Where I was forced to sit next to Owen. I rest on the armchair, wishing that God could take my life now. I didn't want to be here with them. Why couldn't my father stay in his office?

"Owen is studying medicine and is at the top of his class." Mr. Walsh said.

"You're very beautiful, Quinn," Owen whispered. I looked up at my mother, and she nodded, signaling me to answer him.

"Thank you," I forced it out through my teeth .

"Oh my God, Quinn, sweetheart, your lip is bleeding." Mr. Walsh noticed, and I looked up and pressed my finger against them. I looked at my fingers and saw the blood.

I stood up and made my way over to the kitchen. I grabbed some tissue to clean the blood and applied a bit of pressure. He bit me. I remembered he bit me. Deimos liked blood. I giggled, knowing my assumption was correct. He was real, and I didn't doubt it anymore. I could still feel his touch around my neck and just thinking about that kiss and his hands on me along with the look of desire in his eyes had me getting wet.

"Are you okay, Quinn?" I jumped up a little, placing a hand over my heart. I tilted my head up towards the kitchen door, and Mr. Walsh stood by it. He had brown hair, just like his son, except his eyes were blue. He wore a dark navy suit with a white handkerchief tucked inside the front pocket.

"I'm fine, Mr. Walsh. I didn't hear you coming, that's all," I said, giving him a fake smile. He stepped into the kitchen.

"You know you're very beautiful, and your body is…exquisite," he said, looking at me up and down, almost like he was devouring me. I felt uncomfortable and tried to laugh it off. "You're of legal age now. In all parts of the world," he added. I was confused. All parts of the world?

"I remember when you were only sixteen." He chuckled, reaching to brush my hair, but I stepped away from him. I swallowed, trying my hardest to get rid of the lump stuck in my throat. "You're all grown up now."

"I should get back. My parents are waiting for me." I interrupted him and took another step towards the door, but his hand stopped me from going further. I didn't dare turn around to look at him. He came closer, standing by my side, and I could feel him staring at me. His nose came near my ear, and he sniffed me, breathing in my scent.

What the fuck.

He just sniffed me like a dog.

He moaned, and my body froze with what he said next. "I could smell your arousal from here. Mmm, you smell like cranberries like I always remembered." The next thing I knew, his hand rested on my lower back, and he pulled me closer to him. This man was at least thirty-five years older than me. He was old enough to be my father. "Your lips are beautiful, but I'm sure your other lips taste just like you smell."

I pulled myself away immediately as chills covered my body. "That was uncalled for, Mr. Walsh, and very inappropriate. If you excuse me, I should get back now." I gritted through my teeth. I was scared for my life, but I made sure my voice didn't show any fear.He released a soft chuckle, his hand falling away from the door and back to his side. I quickly departed and headed for the living room, praying this would end soon.

I was supposed to go to church on Sunday after Sophie caught me masturbating, but that didn't happen. I couldn't wait; the guilt was eating at my soul. Plus, I needed to confess what Mr. Walsh did to me last night because I couldn't keep it a secret. It was eating me alive. Now, here I was, sitting in confession, ready to confess my sins before I met with Sophie.

"In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen." I whispered inside the confessional as I did the sign of the cross.

If he only knew everything, I'd have been thinking about.

What my thoughts had conjured five minutes ago as I waited my turn.

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned," I whispered, breathy.

"Father, I'm not sure where to start. I've had a lot of sinful thoughts lately, and I may have acted on those thoughts."

I opened my eyes and looked into his darkened green ones. "Deimos," I mumbled. He wore a half-face skull mask and all-black clothing, dressed like a priest. The white collar and robe added to his overall look.

"Tell me your thoughts. My dirty little nun," he confessed, his voice laced with lust. I swallowed hard and clenched my thighs as the ache between my thighs began to throb.

"I've been thinking about tasting you. I—I want to feel your seed run down my throat." I confessed, my voice low.Deimos chuckled and threw his head back, and his Adam's apple displayed even more. God, do I want to suck on it.

"You want to swallow my kids, Princess," he rasped.

My eyes widened, and my mouth parted. I was no longer looking at Deimos but Alexander. I opened the door to the confessional and slipped out. I walked toward the church exit when suddenly he grabbed my wrist and pulled me towards the center walkway. He slid his hands on my ass and slanted his mouth over mine.He lifted me as my legs automatically went around his hips.His hands slipped inside my skirt, and his fingers brushed against my bare pussy.

"Quinn," he said, breaking our kiss. A few seconds later, his fingers wiped some of my wetness from my entrance.

"No fucking panties. Fuck, Princess, you're killing me here."

"Hey! No cussing," I scolded him.

"We're in church," I said with a smirk as I stated the obvious.

"I made a mess. I had to take them off, or else everyone in the church would have smelled my arousal."

"So you spent the last two hours bare in church?"

I nodded, biting my lips. He carried me to the pew closest to the front of the church and sat down with me straddling him. "Am I in trouble?" I asked a bit coyly.

"Yes," he growled, nipping at my neck.

"Lots of trouble. But first, I want you on your knees swallowing my seed," he ordered. The wetness between my thighs grew with every second, and I couldn't wait to have his fat cock stretching my mouth. Alexander helped me with the kneeler. I dropped to my knees before him, ensuring my knees were on the cushions.

I giggled.

Who would've thought that kneelers would have other uses? He unbuckled his belt as my hands impatiently started to tug them off his hips along with his boxers. He groaned as his erection finally sprang free.

His thumb wiped away some of the precum that had started to leak down his length. He found my lips and smeared his cum all over my lower lip, pulling it down to give me a taste of himself.

"Spit on it," he ordered. "Then bring me to my knees, baby."

I dropped my mouth over his silky soft skin and took the head of his cock between my lips. Hearing his breath hitch made me so hot and bothered that I'd do anything he wanted.

The head was hot and swollen and wet. He laced his fingers through my hair as he fisted a good chuck of my hair. I let go of his dick with a loud pop as I stared down at it in awe. His cock glistened with my salvia.

"I want you to fuck my mouth," I whispered, looking up at him before taking his cock back into my mouth.

Alexander slowly fucked my mouth, but his thrusts were forceful. I kept my eyes pinned to his, peering up at him through my long, dark eyelashes. Alexander tightened his grip on my hair. He fucked me harder, causing my eyes to water as the head of his cock touched the back of my throat .

"Fuck, Quinn. Your mouth is so fucking good," he praised and thrusted harder into my mouth.

The sound of me choking as it hit the back of my throat could be heard through the church, but that didn't stop him. He pushed in again and again till my eyes started to water even more. His breathing was ragged, and I could feel his cock begin to twitch.

I wrapped my fingers around him and sucked harder, only taking me less than a second to have him roaring his release. I savored his seed and loved the feeling of his cum running down my throat. I saved some of his cum, not swallowing entirely as he dragged me up. His thumb wiped my tears. I grabbed his jaw, and he opened his mouth. Not even a second later, I was spitting his cum into his mouth, watching it slide down his throat. Fuck that's hot.

He crashed his mouth with mine, and I groaned into his mouth as he licked past my teeth and tasted my tongue, and he moved his mouth harder against mine.

"We taste so good together, don't we? Your sweet mouth is all I'm going to be thinkin' about for the rest of my life." He devoured my lips again as I rocked my hips back and forth, gasping every time my clit rubbed against his pelvic bone.His cock was hard again, and I couldn't wait to feel him inside of me. He lifted me up and aligned his dick to my entrance before sliding me down.

"Oh God, Alex," I cried out.

I placed my hands on his shoulders, using him as leverage to help me move up and down his cock. I moved my hips in a circular motion.

"Please, please, please..." I rolled my hips back and forth over him.

"That's my dirty little nun. Such a good girl, begging in the house of God," he rasped. My fingers twined through his hair, and I pulled his head back to suck on his Adam's apple.

He carried me to the altar and laid me down, his cock never leaving my pussy. I wanted to be his sacrifice. He tore my skirt along with my shirt and bra. I was entirely bare for him. I lay naked as I watched him take off his pants along with the robe he had on. I looked up, and my eyes connected to Jesus Christ. "Forgive me," I muttered just before he slammed into me. My back arched

Alex laid his body on top of mine, supporting himself with only his forearms now, as our chest and stomach pressed together. "More," I moaned. He slammed into me harder, my breasts bouncing with the force of his thrust. My hand reached out to fist the alter cloth as he drove harder into me. Each time he pushed in, he ground himself against my clit, pulling out slowly to drag against my G-spot.

I was lost to myself, lost to him, and lost to the world and everything except his grunts and the sound of my wet pussy. My walls tightened around him as my nails left red scratch marks on his back.

"Oh. Oh. Oh, God— I'm coming," I screamed. The gush of wetness that was dripping on his cock and on the white alter cloth was mixed with both our cum.

I felt his cock pulse, and the warm liquid filled my pussy. My pussy squeezed him, milking every last throb of his climax, every last drop. Alex raised himself on his hands to look down at me, and I swear I heard him whisper, "Amen." Before thrusting two fingers inside me pushing his cum deeper into me.

"Quinn! Quinn! Quinn! Please tell me you're okay?" Father LaCroix repeated, exiting the priest's compartment with urgency only to appear right in front of me. I was kneeling on the step inside the penitent's compartment. I had zoned out entirely, but the flush I felt on my cheeks and neck was real.

My eyes blinked several times, only for them to wander, taking in my surroundings. I was inside the penitent's compartment, not the alter.

It felt so real—almost like it did happen.