Summary:During an interrogation with a woman suspected of withholding valuable information, the past comes crashing down on Father Quart, who suddenly needs to face someone he thought was no more than a distant memory.
Relationship: Father Quart x OC Charlotte
Words:5,7K
Warnings:18+ ⚠️ Please don’t read this if the thought of a priest breaking his vow of celibacy might offend you.
A/N: Take a look at the moodboard again. Still here? Welcome to my sinful corner of Tumblr.
The air smelled vaguely of tar, wet soil and dust. Robbed of one of her senses, she could not make out the size or shape of the room she was held in, but it was warm, poorly ventilated and, judging by the way her dress clung to her body, very damp. The coarse fabric covering her eyes held a hint of spicy cologne and sweat, like it had been in someone’s inner pocket for a long time. Charlotte’s hands were bound behind the back of the wooden chair she was seated on and the thick hemp rope also secured her ankles, harshly tied to the front legs of the chair. A table stood somewhere in front of her and the furious man in the room slammed his open hand on its surface repeatedly to accentuate his words.
”Give me a name!”
Her continued silence made him frustrated and he snorted as he moved closer to her. At this close distance she could smell his sweat and the unpleasant scent made her turn her head away from him.
”You’re only making it harder for yourself, Charlotte. We both know you have the information I want and you’ll give it to me. You’re not leaving this room before I have it.” His nasal voice was raised and the underlying threat made her shiver.
A sudden knock on the door made Charlotte jump in her seat. The man with the distinct smell sighed and then gave a short bark. ”Enter!” A squeak sounded from the door as it swung open and with it followed just a tease of fresh air. She didn’t know how long she had been in this room but she knew what kind of tricks the mind could play on a person without a single thing to hold on to. Sunlight, a watch or anything that could give guidance would have helped her but in the dark world she now was forced to accept, she had nothing. Not even the comforting sound of church bells could reach her here. Suddenly she felt a hand resting on her head, almost like a blessing, and the man leaned in close to her.
”I don’t have time for your games anymore. Give me what I want, or I will leave you in the hands of my very capable colleague. He’s a less patient man than I am but he will help you make the right decision.”
Once again, she chose to stay silent. He waited and then gave a short grim laugh. ”Stubbornness will get you nowhere.” Heavy footsteps, and what sounded like a cane, scraped against the floor as he moved. Charlotte’s heart picked up speed. Was he really leaving? And who was this new person that silently entered, without even a greeting. The unpleasant man made no attempt to hide his instructions, directed to the silent figure in the room. ”And Quart, use the belt if you have to. I want results.”
As the door closed, silence fell over the room. She heard a key turn and a click, but was unsure if the door was locked from the outside or if this Quart had locked it to prevent anyone else from entering. Like he didn’t want unexpected surprises. The thought sent an anxious shiver down her spine. What activities had he prepared for her? She heard him move closer. He walked slowly, but without the burden of age and she pictured him as a snake approaching a bird’s nest. Charlotte tried to calm her racing heart, but she could feel something change in the air as he silently closed in on her from behind. His scent reached her nose and it was pleasant and fresh, like he just stepped out of the shower. Nothing like the previous man. The well-balanced cologne mixed with his body’s manly scent created a combination her own body refused to ignore. She bit her lip in frustration. This was not the time or place for that kind of reflection.
”Monsignor has been very patient with you. He does not want to harm you, still you disobey him and leave us with few options left.” He placed a heavy hand on her neck, his fingers pressed tightly at her soft skin and then he pushed her forward, stretching the muscles in her arms and making the ropes cut deeper into her skin.
”Tell me,” he rasped with his lips dangerously close to her ear, ”tell me the truth, and I will set you free.”
She frowned. His voice was sinfully dark, but at the same time smooth as velvet and she would be lying to herself if she claimed she didn’t find the voice even the slightest appealing. It felt strangely familiar and something long forgotten stirred deep inside her.
”I don’t know anything about the thefts or who might be involved in them.” She forced her voice to sound at least somewhat calm but on the inside her heart was beating hard, using her chest as its resonance box.
”So you can speak after all. It’s a small progress.” She could hear the triumph in his voice as he loosened his grip slightly, letting her relax just enough, but she realised too late that it also involuntarily made her lean against his hand. He was still standing very close to her, behind the chair that she over the hours had learned to hate. Its hard edges were very uncomfortable after just a few hours, and now, when she had lost track of how long she had been tied to it in this awful place, her body hurt.
”Keep doing it and I will loosen one of these ropes.”
Father Quart let his fingertips glide over the sloppily tied knot and down to her wrist where his soft touch gently brushed her skin. Amateurs, he thought, without a feeling for a good craft. If he had been the one placing the rope around her delicate wrists in the first place, it would have looked very different.
”I know how much it hurts after a few hours.”
When he spoke, his voice bore a touch of longing and it confused Charlotte greatly. Then his grip on her neck tightened again and once again she was forced to lean forward. Her arms ached and this time he pushed harder, making the muscles in her chest stretch out and the feeling caused her to moan. His voice grew sterner. ”All I want is a name, it’s simple. One name and you walk out of here in just a few minutes. If you want to keep trying to protect someone, you’ll only suffer. Is it really worth it?”
Charlotte remained quiet; she was determined to keep the information to herself. Her body protested but she pressed her lips tightly together and waited for his retribution. Suddenly he let go of her and it eased some of the pain in her arms. The sound of the belt being pulled from his trousers was enough to make her tense in every muscle of her tired body. It sounded intimidating enough but when he made it snap loudly, probably by folding the leather belt double and pulling at the ends, she let out a terrified gasp.
”Are you sure this person is worth it?”
Father Quart looked at the woman in front of him once more. Her brown locks spilled over her shoulders but the blindfold had ruined her no doubt careful styling. Small strands of hair laid flat on her forehead, caught in pearls of sweat. Her skin was tanned and she wore a thin wrap dress in a pale summer color. No shoes could be seen anywhere and the dirt on her feet told him that she had not entered this room on her own. She had been dragged in. For hours, he was told, they had held her captive, without food, with only water to drink and very limited access to a toilet. But she had not given the answer they wanted and now he was instructed to change tactics. He didn’t like it. Physical persuasion was not his thing, he preferred a mental challenge. But he had his orders and he intended to execute them with expertise, as usual.
It was unusual for him to interrogate someone this way, especially a woman, but seeing this brunette bound like this woke his memory from a long slumber and pictures from his previous life flashed before his eyes. Back then, the only punishments he ever delivered was when a woman begged him to and that was a totally different game. A lust-filled game, sprung from a shared interest in pushing boundaries. A game he buried along with his painful memories of the only woman who ever made him feel complete, but also ruthlessly crushed his heart when she left him without even an explanation.
He slammed the belt on the table, harder than necessary and noticed the startled movement. He had no idea if she knew what to expect, but he didn’t linger on the thought as he turned his attention to the ropes. With swift, experienced fingers he untied the ropes from the chair, secured her hands as high up on her back as her body would allow, pulled her up on her feet and pushed her forward until she stumbled into the table. She didn’t fight him for her freedom and he allowed himself a smile. It was a sign of submissive acceptance. With one hand firmly planted between her shoulder blades, he made her bend over the table. Then he reached for his belt and made sure she felt it scratch against her skin as he adjusted the soft leather in his hand. This was one of his favorite belts, not because of what he was about to do with it, it was just a job, but because of how it looked. The leather was exquisite and even if the clasp was smaller than many others on the market, it was eye-catching. Not very suitable for a priest as his superior often remarked, but Father Quart didn’t care. He knew his value within the Institute of External Affairs and he didn’t ask too many questions about how the church chose to handle certain situations. He had the character of a true soldier and servant of the church: loyal, efficient and determined. Overall a tremendous asset, too important to dismiss due to minor fashion disputes.
The hard surface felt cold against her chest and Charlotte welcomed the temporary chill it gave. Her heart raced and it made her sweat even more in the warm room. His hand on her back was strong and she could feel through the fabric of her dress how he unexpectedly stroked her with his thumb. It felt tenderly absent, like his mind was somewhere else. Her body held its own memories and suddenly the gentle caress of his thumb made sense. The voice, the heavy hand, the touch of a faceless stranger, but in a way, no stranger at all. Charlotte’s heart almost stopped. Now she knew exactly who that voice belonged to. How could she ever forget the deep rumble that once made her tremble with anticipation? Could it really be him? Her head was spinning and she was grateful for the support given by the table. Did she really want to know or were some things better kept in the dark? She felt him tense as he lifted his arm and without even thinking she cried out ”stop!”
The high-pitched cry came as a total surprise and Father Quart just managed to stop himself before the belt met her skin. Without wasting any time he grabbed her arm and roughly spun her around.
”Last chance,” he hissed, “speak now, before I change my mind.” He uttered the last words slowly, giving her extra time to come to the right decision, but when she finally opened her mouth, it was not the words he expected.
”I…I think I know who you are.”
”What?”
”I think I know you. And you know me, at least you used to.”
He stared at her, then grabbed the dirty fabric covering her eyes and ripped it off her. When his gaze met hers, the earth stopped in its orbit. The intense blue ponds that once threatened to drown him, stared back at him.
”Lottie,” he breathed, unable to control his voice and instinctively he lifted his hand and caressed her chin. She closed her eyes and leaned against his touch, unwilling to accept the reality of their current situation. Her skin was so soft under his fingertips and her instant affirmation put him out of balance, and eventually he hesitated. He had a mission to complete, but all he wanted now was to forget about the present, take her in his arms, close his eyes and taste her sensual lips. She was just as beautiful as she had been when they were lovers and the years had graced her with fine lines around her eyes that spoke of a woman with experience from all the aspects of life, both joy and sadness. In the dim light he could tell she wore very little makeup and for that he was grateful. It allowed him to see the real her, not the painted canvas so many women presented to the world.
”You used to like games like these,” she mumbled as she opened her eyes.
”So did you.”
Her gaze fell on his clergy collar and he could read her thoughts, they were printed on her face. Confusion, curiosity and a hint of regret. She frowned.
”Are you a priest now?”
”Yes.”
”I thought priests served in the church, not in a place like this.” She looked around the dark and unfriendly room. It had rough, unpainted walls, illuminated by a handful of lanterns. It was bigger than she thought, but still very far from the great cathedral.
”Not all priests perform Mass or listen to confessions.”
”Clearly. But why here? I thought I was being questioned by the police or something.”
”The church prefers to deal with its problem on its own.”
”So that’s what I am now, a problem?” She crooked her neck and gave him an inviting smile that settled deep in his core. She still had the power to wake the primal need in him and he was both disturbed, confused and tempted by this insight. She was teasing him but he could feel the growing tension between them. Almost two decades had passed, but now, when facing each other again, it felt like no time had passed at all.
”Yes.”
She looked deeply into his eyes, like she could easily see beyond the hard mask he was desperately trying to hold up. ”I want to be your problem.” Her voice dropped to a whisper and in her eyes he could read every indecent insinuation, and he unconsciously tightened his grip around the belt. Father Quart held himself back by pure determination, but the way she was looking at him made it impossible for him to stay unaffected.
”Problems need to be taken care of,” he stated firmly, not for a second breaking eye contact.
”I agree,” she whispered back in a trembling voice, while her upper body betrayed her by exposing her arousal, fully visible through her thin dress, “please, do it.”
Father Quart closed the distance between them. ”Do you really want me to?” he said and felt a bigger problem approaching. His own arousal. For almost twenty years he had kept his needs at bay with cold showers and prayers, but his world was in movement now and he knew he was doomed. Suddenly he felt weak, something he had not experienced since before he took his oath. Even if she was the bound one, he was certain that she would lead him straight to the altar and he would sacrifice himself for a moment with her naked body. His heart was beating hard and in his mind he could hear his old tutor: ”Beware of your feelings for they can betray you. One day you will make a mistake, and when you do, I’ll not be there to catch you. You must face the consequences alone.”
Slowly he ran his hand through her unruly hair. It was pleasantly soft against his fingers and he brushed away a few locks that fell over her cheek. Without really deciding to, he suddenly bent down and placed his lips over hers. It was wrong but he didn’t care, he wanted— no, he needed—to feel her passion again. As he closed his arms around her she pressed herself against him and he let out a soft groan that sent a vibration down her throat.
Without the possibility of touching him, she let her mouth and tongue show her burning desire for him. She kissed him back and poured all her needs into the kiss, hoping that it sparked the flame in him, just as it did to her. She was on fire and only he could calm her burning body. Suddenly he captured her lower lip between his teeth, pulled gently and the feral hunger in his eyes made her gasp. The familiar grip of his hands on her body turned her smile into a satisfied grin. He was trapped.
Charlotte broke the kiss, turned from him and without hesitation bent over the table, this time without his help. He watched her body, presented to him in the most beautiful way, and the growing need built rapidly and unstoppably in his lower body. Her voice became a husky, erotic whisper: ”Do it. Not because it is expected of you, but because I want you to. And I know you want it too. Play with me.”
Father Quart placed his hand over the now tightly and symmetrically tied knots covering her wrists. The knots looked better than before, even if he made them in a haste. If he had known who she was when he secured her, he would have put in more effort. She deserved only the best.
The first strike fell over the soft fabric covering her lower back and even if she knew it was coming, the sharp sting made her breath hitch. She could tell he was holding back a lot, the pain was far from as bad as it could have been. The belt bit a little harder when it landed over the back of her thighs and Charlotte tried to prevent the cry from leaving her mouth, but failed. As the following blow marked the softness of her bum, she squirmed under his hand and a disappointed, needy sound fell from her lips as he stopped.
Father Quart hesitated but then realized he had already passed the point of no return. He grabbed the hem of her dress and pulled it up. The belt had left red marks on her skin and he caressed her gently. She moaned when his hand moved over her body as if it had its own will. He met her burning gaze as she turned her face to look at him over her shoulder and she looked more wild than tamed.
”Touch me, please.”
Her pleading sounded more natural to him than he had expected and it filled him with memories once again. He let go of the belt and it fell to the floor with a clatter. Her silky skin was warm when he traced the outer line of her thighs with his hands and the white lace covering her most precious parts was an alluring contrast to her tanned skin. When he pulled the fabric down, he could see the lines on her skin, the marks left by her bikini. Sunkissed skin had always been his weakness and he trailed the line with his fingertips, from her hip and over the beautiful roundness of her bum. He stopped before he reached the feminine sanctuary her body offered. She wanted to play, and so did he. With a gentle nudge of his foot on her ankle he urged her to stand with her feet further apart. She obeyed immediately and the spread gave him better access to the part of her body he secretly had dreamed about. Celibacy was the hardest vow to honor and lately he had, more often than before, questioned if it was worth it. Until that moment, the answer had been yes, but now, as she presented herself to him in a way that widely surpassed his dreams, he knew that he, just like Eve, would taste the forbidden fruit.
”Look at you,” he murmured, as he slowly let his fingers travel up her inner thigh and he could feel her shiver under his touch, ”you are so beautiful.” Teasingly he ran his fingers over the slickness covering her folds and it made her whimper. She was just as ready for him as he was for her. The hardness in his trousers was almost painful, he ached for her like never before. Time had certainly not killed the attraction between them and as he slipped a finger inside her, it was coated in her need. Moans and encouragement fell from her lips in a stream of pleasure and his fingers remembered every corner of her body and recalled how to tease her to the point of insanity.
It would have been easy to bring her to climax like that, but he wanted to feel her squeezing him when she fell apart, and so he withdrew his fingers, put them in his mouth and the taste of her sweetness made him grunt approvingly. He briefly considered falling on his knees behind her and devouring her, but he was not sure how much time he was given so instead he opened his trousers, pulled them down and freed himself. The throbbing feeling increased as he placed his hand over his length and gave it a gentle stroke. Touching himself like that was something he rarely did, as a result of the path he had chosen, but when it happened, he always made amends. He let the top of his thick shaft gently glide over her glistening opening and with a huge amount of self-discipline he refrained from slamming his hips against her. Teasing her was part of the game and he knew her weaknesses by heart, but the longing sound she let out made it hard for him to stay in control. The rope securing her hands on her back would no doubt leave marks on her skin and he placed his hand over hers in a comforting gesture. Her pleasure had always been his priority in the past and he had no intentions of changing that. So when she begged him to proceed, he thrusted deeply and buried himself in her tight welcoming embrace.
Charlotte’s moan got caught in her throat. His girth was grander than she remembered and he stretched her beyond belief. He didn’t wait for her to adjust and she didn’t want him to, she needed him and craved what he was about to give her. It was like her body remembered every move he made and her blood sang in her ears as soon as he found their combined rhythm. His hand on hers felt tender at first but as he added more force to his thrusts, he effectively held her in place in a firm grip. The unmistakable sound of his skin meeting hers filled the room and together they chased the peaks of their pleasures.
She closed her eyes, absorbed by the intensity of his hips that promised her the ultimate salvation, and his long fingers which he purposefully closed over her mouth, preventing her approaching climax from being heard outside her temporary prison. The damp room became the only witness of their sinful moment of lust as he finally pushed her over the edge, followed by praise he had not spoken since the last time they were together. “Good girl.”
Captured under the spell of her body, he could only helplessly feel how she clenched hard around him and the sensation was enough for him to follow her down the slick slope of passion. He came with a deep groan, bright stars danced in front of his eyes and blinded him, and he could almost hear his collar cracking around his neck.
Father Quart found himself mirroring her breathing, as if they took breaths as one.First short of breath, but soon deeper, helping him to relax his body. He bent forward and kissed her gently between her shoulder blades, the same spot that he so harshly had pushed not long ago. Then he pulled his trousers up and tucked down his shirt before he picked up the belt, pulled it through the loops and clasped it. With a gentle grip on her shoulder, he helped Charlotte to stand up straight again. Not that she looked like she needed the help, but it felt like the right thing to do. His mouth was dry.
”Do you want some water?”
”I do, thank you.” She smiled at him and her eyes sparkled with that unusual light that made him warm even on the inside. He walked over to the shelf in the corner, took the mug and filled it with water from the large bottle. It was not cold but it was all he could offer and when he held it to her mouth, she drank greedily. Small drops fell from the mug, landed on her chest and he could not help but stare when it slowly ran over her skin and finally was absorbed by her dress. When the mug was empty she looked at him with a grateful expression and he filled the mug again, this time for himself. As he drank, the unspoken question that almost drove him insane all those years ago, gnawed in the back of his head. He knew he had more important information to extract from her, but he could not help being selfish.
”Why did you leave me?” He hoped he didn’t sound bitter. ”I can accept that you wanted to end our relationship, but why did you leave without even a word? I never understood what I did wrong, was I not worthy of an explanation?”
Charlotte looked into the eyes of the man that used to be her universe. He still had the power to melt her like a piece of gold in a hot furnace, just like then. He was older now, in his early fifties she quickly calculated, but still impossibly handsome. The grey streaks in his hair, the deeper lines around his eyes and the short stubble, it all made him look distinguished and appealing. His white collar rested authoritatively against the black shirt and she lowered her gaze. Maybe he deserved to know after all and she shifted nervously. Not only were the painful memories something she didn’t want to bring back to the light, but they also contained a person, whose name she didn’t want to mention at all.
”I…I was afraid.” Her voice trembled, even if she tried to sound neutral.
”Of me?” He frowned and his voice changed to an accusing tone. ”Why?”
”No, not of you.” She swallowed hard, this was going in the wrong direction, she had to tell him before she made more damage to the old scars. Things had not been fair back then, but at least she could make it right by telling him the truth now. Her voice was sad when she spoke again: ”My brother.”
”Your brother, what did he have to do with us?”
She lifted her head again and met his gaze but in his eyes she only saw confusion and hurt. He ran both his hands over the stubble of his cheeks in what she could only interpret as a way of calming himself. This was not what she wanted for him.
”One day, after you had left, after we had… played, my brother came to see me. I was always careful, because I knew that I sometimes bore marks that needed explanation if they were seen by others. But somehow he saw a glimpse of the mark I had on my wrist and he made me show it to him. All of it.” Charlotte lowered her head to avoid his piercing gaze. ”He demanded to see what else I hid on my body. I couldn’t stop it from happening. He thought you were assaulting me and he threatened to find the man who did it and kill him. He was furious and I could not find the courage in me to tell him that I wanted you to do all that to me. I didn’t think that he would have ever understood. Or that it would matter to him. I am his baby sister, he’s very protective and always has been. He forbade me to ever see you again. You had hurt me and he would make you pay for it. I left you to protect you.”
”You could have told me. There must have been another solution. We could have talked to him together.”
”No! You do not understand. He is not someone you can just talk to about something like that. And he told his friends that his sister was beaten up. I am sure they watched me for a long period of time. Protected me, as my brother called it. I did not dare to make contact with you. I know you called, I know you were at my apartment when I was not there and I got the flowers you sent to my work. I thanked God every day that they never saw you.”
”You meant more to me than that.” His voice was even now and it made her heart ache. Hurt or distrustful was better than even, he sounded remote like he gradually distanced himself from her again. She wished she could reach for him, hug him and make him see things from her point of view, but in the back of her mind she questioned herself. Was it really him she wanted to comfort or was it her own mind that needed relief.
”I only wanted you to live, I did it because I loved you. Please understand, Marc is dangerous, he was back then and he is now. And his friends are too, they are criminals. Don’t you see?”
Fully focused on trying to process what Charlotte was saying, Father Quart’s subconscious worked on a different track. Something clicked into gear in the back of his brain and even if his heart was somewhere else, he understood what she was saying. Or rather tried very hard not to say. The professional side of him raised his head and he spoke calmly in that deep steady voice she first had heard.
”So, this is what it is all about. Your brother.”
”Yes, I am trying to tell you..” He cut her off. ”Your brother is the one you are trying to protect, is it not?”
”No!” She felt sick. Why did she bring him up?
”I don’t mean back then, Lottie, I mean now, at this very moment. I think your brother is involved in the thefts, or maybe he is the contact to the black markets where the priceless art is sold, and I think you’re doing everything you can to keep that piece of information from me. But you just told me you are afraid of him, did you not? And his friends?”
”That is not true! He is not involved.”
”Then who is it? You were never good at lying to me, Lottie. We both know why you are here in the first place, you know something and I want to know as well.” He lowered his voice and looked at her, then he reached for her and stroked her chin with the back of his fingers. She leaned against his hand once more and a tear fell from her eye.
”If I tell you, will I ever see you again?”
Father Quart looked at her and for a moment considered what she just asked him. Then he slowly shook his head. ”No Lottie, you will not. My life is very different from yours. Back then…I loved you. I really did. When you left me, I felt like you ripped my heart open and took everything I had with you. Even if there was a way for us to meet again, I would not dare to open my heart to you. Understand that I…”
The loud bang on the door made them both jump. Father Quart gave her a sad smile.
”Our time is up. I need to blindfold you again.”
As tears started to fall over her cheeks he gently placed the bad smelling piece of fabric over her eyes. Then he quickly opened the door. A restless and red-faced Monsignor Spada entered the room and looked from Father Quart to Charlotte, who was standing up, but her arms were tightly bound behind her back.
”Do you have the information, Quart?” He barked.
”Her brother is the one we need to take a look at. And most certainly his closest friends.”
”Good job.”
Then he turned his attention to Charlotte. ”Thank you for your cooperation, Miss. You will be given a ride home shortly, just as promised.”
Charlotte refused to cry out loud, even if every fibre in her body wanted her to. She would not give the older man the satisfaction of seeing her break down in tears. So she bit hard on the tip of her tongue and cursed her weak body for revealing the things she did not say out loud. She wanted to warn Marc, but if she did, he would know she had been questioned, or worse, that she had betrayed him. The door closed heavily and when she realised she was alone, she allowed herself to cry. The coarse fabric was soon wet, not only from sweat, and her body trembled. The combination of physical exhaustion, an avalanche of emotions and the lack of food made her very weak and she sank down on the rough floor. She wanted to put her arms around her knees, but the ropes would not give in, even if she tried to free herself. Left without any other options, she sobbed quietly and waited.
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Summary:During an interrogation with a woman suspected of withholding valuable information, the past comes crashing down on Father Quart, who suddenly needs to face someone he thought was no more than a distant memory.
Relationship: Father Quart x OC Charlotte
Words:5,7K
Warnings:18+ ⚠️ Please don’t read this if the thought of a priest breaking his vow of celibacy might offend you.
A/N: Take a look at the moodboard again. Still here? Welcome to my sinful corner of Tumblr.
The air smelled vaguely of tar, wet soil and dust. Robbed of one of her senses, she could not make out the size or shape of the room she was held in, but it was warm, poorly ventilated and, judging by the way her dress clung to her body, very damp. The coarse fabric covering her eyes held a hint of spicy cologne and sweat, like it had been in someone’s inner pocket for a long time. Charlotte’s hands were bound behind the back of the wooden chair she was seated on and the thick hemp rope also secured her ankles, harshly tied to the front legs of the chair. A table stood somewhere in front of her and the furious man in the room slammed his open hand on its surface repeatedly to accentuate his words.
I know I mention this every time with all of your stories but your descriptions once again were marvellous and really brought me into that damp, gross room with Charlotte. The absence of her sight was so perfectly written out and as much as I was eager to see who the second man was that came in the room () I wanted to keep reading that scene forever.
His voice was sinfully dark, but at the same time smooth as velvet and she would be lying to herself if she claimed she didn’t find the voice even the slightest appealing. It felt strangely familiar and something long forgotten stirred deep inside her.
But then FQ appeared and smut happened and THAT was what hooked me, dragged me down into hell and tied me up.
IT WAS SO GOOOOOOD.
“Play with me.”
Fuck. Off.
I’m wrecked. The want. The need. Abandoning all reason and oath and a past long forgotten for that passionate memory again. The complicated past between them and the danger of this is so addicting and if you wanted to continue this story, I SUPPORT THAT 110%.
