I looked up, realizing with a little jolt that there was a stone angel behind me. Its graven face was turned toward me, empty eyes fixed open, and a scales in its hand. It reminded me of a less terrifying version of the angel in our bedroom. I pivoted, noticing there were angels every few dozen feet, all in different positions and holding different objects. The one above us held a sword over its shoulder and its mouth was open, almost as if it were crying out.
“Do you remember when I told you I had something prettier than my mouth?” he said. “I wasn’t talking about my dick.”
“You carve a lot.” The words were inadequate on my tongue.
He laughed. “You could say that.”
“Why?”
He stood, his fingers on the railing, looking out over his creations like a god. The corner of his mouth twisted.
“The vain hope of absolution.”
I wasn’t sure what to make of that. Peregrine knelt and gently worked my heels off before leading me barefoot down the stairs. Down in a slow circle until we were on cold stone in the dark with only the lights on the second floor to guide us. At the bottom, there was a wide set of double doors and Peregrine pushed them ajar to reveal an enormous room filled with statues.
He flicked on the lights and I gasped, stepping inside. About half of them were angels, but the other half were gods, famous figures, and faces I didn’t recognize. The room was a dizzying array of blank eyes, stern mouths, and austere beauty. My God, he really did have a gift and it was a shame he kept it covered up in the basement of this house.
Spellbound, I moved through the statues. Persephone, Hades, Pan, Zeus, and so many more. I paused before St. Sebastian, pierced with arrows and tied to a tree, his eyes rolled back to heaven. I’d seen a similar statue in a church before, but it hadn’t been like this. This caught every ounce of pain, every sensual curve, in such a raw way it made my chest ache.
I swallowed and turned, my eyes falling on a statue covered in a drop cloth. There were tools laid out on the table and a fine dust on the ground. Curious, I padded toward it and reached for the cloth.
Peregrine’s hand came out of nowhere, gripping my wrist and pulling me back against his body in a sharp gesture. I yelped, thoroughly startled. He spun me to face him, keeping his hand on mine. His amber gaze flashed and a shiver moved through my body. I swallowed, backing up a step.
“Sorry,” I whispered.
“That one isn’t for you to see.”
I glared, a little shaken. “You didn’t have to scare me.”
His brow rose slowly.
“Did that arouse you?”
I looked down. Through my lace bra and my thin shirt, my nipples were clearly visible. I swallowed as confusion rose in a flush up my throat.
“No,” I said, tilting my chin.
I felt his gaze, like hot fingertips, dragging over my body. In the dim light, a shadow cut sideways across his face, accentuating that place where his collarbone met his chest. His shirt was open just enough to see a few dark hairs between his pecs and the ridges of his sinewy muscles.
“I think you might be aroused, kitten,” he breathed. “Why deny it? I can feel how wet your cunt gets when I pin you down and fuck you rough in bed. I know what your body comes alive for.”
Before I could respond, he spun me around and pulled me back against him. He took my ponytail in his fist and wrapped it twice around his hand and used it to tug back my head.
“Are you so curious about what’s under the cloth?” he breathed in my ear.
I nodded.
“Do you want to know?”
“I thought I did,” I whispered.
His hot mouth skimmed the side of my neck and there was something hard pressed against my lower back.
“Do you want it as much as you want to know what Merrick said to me?” he asked. “Because you dressed your pretty body for me to try to get that information. Maybe you should have just gotten on your knees under the dinner table and used your mouth. You might have found what you were looking for sooner.”
I stiffened. The thought of using my mouth to pleasure him had crossed my mind, but it scared me a little. I definitely wasn’t ready for it tonight.
“Hush, I like it,” he said. “It’s not begging, but it rides that edge so fucking well.”