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She gasps at the outline of my hard shaft tenting my robe. She can clearly see how much I want her on my lap. I cup her jaw because I cannot refrain from touching her. But this time I lean forward, ready to press my lips against hers and shove my forked tongue in her mouth, but she turns her face, protecting me from myself. My lips land against her cheek.
“No,” she whispers, pressing her hand against my chest, pushing me away. She stands up. “No, I will not defile the High Priest of Westmore. I will not.” And she steps away and leaves the room.
Smoke wafts from my nostrils. I stare into the flickering fireplace, trying to let go of my raging lust, lost in thought…
What if Iwantto be defiled?
5
Lorelei
The next day I hear a commotion in the front courtyard.
I frown because I’m in the middle of reading another really good book. I glance over at Cabal. “What’s going on out there?” I ask rhetorically. He can’t answer me, but I still continue with the questions. I can’t help it.
He lifts his head and gives me a rueful smile. His black horns gleam in the morning light. I bite my lip because Cabal’s smiles are rare, and they cause his features to transform from terrible to heart-stoppingly handsome. He carefully places down his quill and wipes ink off his claws. He’s so strong, smart and studious, I can’t handle it. It’s strange how close we’ve become in such a short time. I desperately wish we could sleep together each night with our naked bodies entwined after sessions of sweaty sex.
But it’s not meant to be.
Last night I pushed him away when he tried to kiss me. As a result, breakfast was awkward this morning, but we soon settled into a comfortable rhythm of pretending it never happened. I think he’s just not used to living with an unmated female this long and he lost his head for a moment. But my job is to keep him on track and focused on his vows. The High Priest is a strong, virile male in his prime and I’m certain I could be switched out for any other unmated female trainee, nun or even a pilgrim and he’d be tempted. I wish the order would come and take me to the nunnery. I will be heartbroken and cry every day for probably a whole year at his loss—but this is how much I care for him. I want him to succeed, even if it means I have to leave so he can remain focused. I told him I would not defile him, and I meant it.
The fact remains that the High Priest of Westmore has taken vows of silence and celibacy. It kills me that I don’t know why or for how long.
Each morning I gaze out my bedroom window and my blood boils with unrequited lust—Cabal stands in the outdoor shower with water sluicing down his powerful, naked body, in all his red-muscled glory. I press right up against the windowpane, getting as close as possible. I lick my lips and stare hungrily at his heavy red cock that juts in front of him and bounces as he moves. His ass is utter perfection. His thighs are so very thick and strong. He looks like he was crafted to my specifications for the perfect male. The horns on his head and the tail that erupts from the base of his spine are edgy and dangerous, which serves to multiply his extreme sexiness. Whenever he turns toward my window I dart to the side, trying to avoid letting him see that I watch him without permission. Jeez, I’m a mess. No wonder I was banished. I’m starting to think I deserved it.
Yes, I dream of being his mate. But I refuse to take advantage of this proud male who’s lived in isolation for so long he probably craves touch even more than I do. I have to help him instead of being a hindrance to his goals. The lust between us is epic and I care for him greatly, but is it worth ruining his honor over? No.
Loud voices float in through the open window. Cabal and I both stand and look outside. A bus is parked in the courtyard and a large group of Green-horns disembark. Cabal lets out a deep sigh of resignation, grabs my hand and pulls me downstairs to greet our guests.
I’m not really sure what to do, so I decide to treat these pilgrims how I would want to be treated if I showed up here unexpectedly. Which, um, is exactly how I arrived, and Cabal was super welcoming. I vividly remember how good that felt. I want to give that same gift to these strangers. A pilgrimage to Salo is a fabulous once-in-a-lifetime trip. All practitioners of the multigod religion are charged with arriving here once in their lives. These beings probably saved currency their whole lives for this one moment. I have to help make it good for them.
We step outside and the bus pulls away, leaving behind a group of older, green-skinned beings with black horns, milling about. First, they see Cabal. One of the females covers her mouth, trying to smother a scream. A male places his arm protectively around her shoulder. They all look very, very nervous. Cabal does look very formidable and imposing, and I’m used to him! He tries hard to allay their fears. His fire and smoke are banked, and his tail is low and almost hidden. He smiles, without a flash of fangs or forked tongue, and walks forward slowly, gently reaching out and shaking each of their hands.
I force my nervousness away and step out from behind him and greet our visitors too. They see me and yell with delight, “Oh, thank gods! The rumors are true. There’s a human nun here who speaks through a universal translator.”
I blink. What?
“Well, yes, I have been given a translator,” I tell them, pointing at Cabal. “You’ve already met Cabal Firestone, the High Priest of Westmore. And my name is Lorelei Hastings and I’m from New Earth. I’m a human trainee who has been temporarily placed here. High Priest Firestone is my teacher and mentor. It’s nice to meet you. Welcome to the Westmore Monastery.”
They eagerly crowd around me and I’m shaking everyone’s hands too and learning their names. They call me “Trainee Hastings,” which is so cute. I love it. I guess I really do want to become a nun someday. I glance over at Cabal’s profile, secretly wishing I could become Lorelei Firestone, the Nun of Westmore. But I keep all those profane thoughts to myself. It isn’t happening, so why torture myself with it?
I’ll have to pray harder today, asking the gods how I can best support Cabal.
Cabal welcomes the pilgrims inside and shows them to their cells. Then he gives them a tour of the grounds and then the inside of the monastery.
Fortunately, I read all those biographies of the multigods and I’ve been reading some of the ancient text he wanted me to learn. When Cabal gives the group a tour of the monastery, I’m able to provide a commentary for our guests and answer a large amount of their questions.
He lets the group move past us up the stairs and stops and grins down at me. I love it that I seem to be the only one who coaxes this response from him. He reaches out and brushes a strand of my hair from my face and back over my ear. There’s a look on his harsh face I’ve never seen before. I’m not sure what it means.
We enter the library and end up spending hours there, giving anyone who wants a demonstration and instruction on how to write in the ancient language, on parchment, with their own quill and ink. This is a hit. And others in the group put on gloves and carefully thumb through ancient print books on the shelves to their hearts’ content.
It’s really a lovely afternoon. It’s the most fun I’ve had, ever. And the best part is I’m working alongside Cabal. And I think he’s pleased that the pilgrims are able to learn so much more with me there to “translate.”
Cabal breaks to perform absolutions with the pilgrims. I perform the hymnals. We cook for them and feed them in the refectory using our rustic methods which they find charming. They’ve brought lots of food to help out with supplies. Bread, noodles, desserts, fruits, wine, ale…an eye-popping number of delicacies. I soon begin to realize I love it when the pilgrims arrive. I end up eating until I think my stomach might burst. It’s all so good.
I end up washing dishes at the back pump with one of the females. “The High Priest is doing so good keeping his vows,” she mentions. “It must be so hard for him to remain silent when he has so many visitors, but he still manages.”
I nod and blow hair off my forehead as I tackle another dish, “I can’t believe how good he’s doing too. And I have no idea how long he’s been tackling these difficult vows or why. I wish I knew.”
