Page 78 of The Sinner and the Priest: Part Two

I close my eyes and see the fresco of Mars and Venus entwined and trapped in a net. I see Apollo, pointing his sword, judging them with a bitter look on his face. And I see Asmodeus, miserable in the agony of his new soul, when all he ever wanted to be was loved.

Isn’t that what we all want? What we all deserve?

It all feels too much. My heart can barely take it. The only thing in my life that feels real right now is between Cisco and me. And I’m not just talking about the sex . . . although that too. What I mean is the connection we have, the similarities, the compassion, the acceptance. The want and the need to help each other and to make our lives whole. None of that other bullshit should matter.

No shadow curse is eating me. I saw it move and I’m still here.

I inhale slowly and then whisper, “Fuck them.”

Cisco tenses. “Who?”

I smile into the gloom. “Them! Fuck every last one of them.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Look at that picture by the door.” I pull back and point at it, but he doesn’t lift his head. “Look at the boy in that frame.”

Ragged breaths stutter. “Mercy . . .”

“That boy never had a chance. Your mother looked at your shadows and gave up. She called you a devil and checked out. Even your father did.” I force the words past my tight throat. “Mine did too. We were both left to rot by the people who were supposed to protect us.”

His massive hands slide down from my ribs to my hips. “Mercy, they are my famiglia.”

I take a moment.

Breathe.

My body is on fire. My soul is filled with rage.

“The fact you’re still defending them shows how much better you are. They’re parasites. And Rome uses you, Cisco.” I thread fingers into his sweat-damp hair and force his brown-again-eyes to mine. “They demand your protection, but they’re terrified of your curse.”

“For good reason,” he bites out.

“Fuck them all.” I get in close, right up to his face. “Fuck anyone who calls you a monster. No! You know what? I change my mind. They don’t deserve a single fuck.”

Cisco tries to swallow his rough groan as I wiggle on his cock, sliding my wet core along the length.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” I pant out.

“Sì.”

“Tell me how good.”

“Cazzo,” he growls. “Like I am dying and being reborn in your heat.”

I sag against him, throat tight. “All my life, Cisco, they’ve acted like fuck is filth.” My voice comes out low, thready, but steadier with every word. “Something dirty. Something fallen. Something women like me should be blamed for wanting, and men like you should be praised for resisting.”

“Mercy,” he breathes.

“But it’s not. It’s the reason any of us are here in the first place. Fuck made every last one of us. Every saint. Every sinner.” My laugh comes out sharper. “Every angel. Every devil. How dare they turn the whole reason we exist into a shameful secret?”

I keep rocking against him, teasing him, showing him this is what we’re built for.

“Fuck isn’t bad,” I say. “It’s this. It’s joy. It’s the body telling the truth before the mouth can lie for it. It’s how the world keeps saying yes to itself.”

I know the truth of his reluctance, and it’s not just the shadows. It’s what his hunger does to the shadows. It’s what denying them does. The shame. Bottling them up because it’s not how a good person, an ‘angel’ should behave.

“They don’t deserve a single fuck from you.” My voice becomes a breathless snarl. “They all want your protection. They want your violence when it saves them. Your curse when it serves them. Your teeth when there’s something uglier than them in the room. But the second it asks to be loved? The second it needs compassion? They recoil.”