Chapter 28 - When Desires Are Confessed Part 2

“Father Marcus, please let me go, ” she requested, looking down and avoiding his gaze. Funny, she doesn’t seem to feel the lightheaded sensation even though he was touching her. Her cheeks blushed and she felt her face hot.

“Are you real? Are you really here with me?” For Marcus to ask that was expected, but he shook his head immediately, rectifying his mistake. His expression changed from being surprised to that of pain and distaste. “Huh, what am I talking about. Of course, you aren’t. You are just an illusion, ” he complained more to himself.

Ysabelle’s brow flinched. She was supposed to be disappointed with his words, but she instead gathered up her wits and pulled herself away from his loosening grip and placed her arms akimbo.

“Just exactly where is here?” she cried, eyes with determination.

But her stance wasn’t precisely a peaceful sight. What Marcus could see under the light was the dark shadow poking through her wet top and the strained lift of her breasts. It immediately spun his restrained desire out of control. Groaning and furrowing his brows, Marcus, in reflex, averted gazing at her sexy form, but not before ogling a good amount of seconds on the attractive peaks. Shit! Even for an illusion, she still cooked up a storm in his mind and heart. Now, he is in turmoil. Now, he has tipped over the edge.

Ysabelle saw the quick change and realized too late that she had just made an inviting exposure of herself. In a split of a second, she covered herself with her arms as if to shield what was already a clear display. Blushing in embarrassed shades, she bit her lower lip and routed her eyes on the water.

“I’m sorry. I have...” she choked. “I have no idea where this is and how I got here. I remember I was sleeping in—”

“Ysabelle...” Marcus interrupted midsentence, his voice deep and sultry. She looked up and saw him already staring at her with smoldering eyes.

Her heart skipped a beat. This side of him is different — totally different.

“If you could—cheat, ” he started cautiously, watching her anxious face. “At anything... anything at all, what would it be?”

He leaned forward, flexing every muscle in his abdomen. Looking up at her profile, he was downright genuine with waiting for an answer.

“Cheat..?” Ysabelle’s voice trembled. “What are you...trying to say?”

Marcus hauled a deep breath and closed his eyes. To him be damned, there was no going back now.

“In this place, I am a prisoner Ysabelle. I am nothing, but just an ordinary man. I have no vows to chain me. No words to chastise me. I am just...me. A man who...desires you.”

Ysabelle turned anemic. He did not just say that!

“Fath—er Mar—cus, ” she breathed out, her legs turning to mush and her skin crawling with electric sensations.

Desire. Desire...

Her heart inflamed after hearing that single word.

Oh, what a foreign thing. She had never felt that towards anything or anyone at all, or maybe, except...

“Swim back in this cold water Father, maybe your senses might clear up, ” she said it so in a sarcastic way, but couldn’t bring herself to filter the shakiness of her voice. That word hit her in ways more than she had thought of. It hit her real good because hate it and deny it as she may, there was this gnawing feeling that she feels the same way towards him.

“Oh, Ysabelle if only it is that easy, ” Marcus sighed, standing up and meeting her in the eyes. “Do you know what my answer to that question is?”

She stepped backward. “Wha...t?”

Marcus’ face was serene when he contemplated for a second. “If I could cheat...” he closed the gap between them and wrapped an arm around her waist, pressing her against the wall of his chest. She gasped, looking at him with her eyes like saucers. “If I could cheat, then it would be...” he clasped a mass of her hair and stilled her head, “it would be to kiss you again, Ysabelle.”

Ysabelle’s heart flatlined for a moment. “Fathe—” And she would have expressed her concern... would have admonished his risky words...if not —if not —for his warm mouth covering up her own.

Marcus cupped her chin and lifted her face to gain more access to the cherry. She moaned a weak protest when he slid an eager tongue inside her mouth and with that, it was the same all over again. The one same experience she had in the grand stairs foyer. The same one that almost made her breathless and blue— literally.

As if it was a natural reflex, she moved her fingers through the outline of his jaw and the pulsing neck, and though she was hesitant about it, answered his fervor with the same sensual movement of her lips, eliciting a throaty groan from Marcus.

Tasting each other, it made them both delirious and intoxicated, but God, she had to stop this, now.

When she was able to free herself a millimeter away, a little bit of sense came over her.

“Father Marcus, sto—”

“Marcus, call me Marcus, Ysabelle.”

His head shifted to skate his hot tongue through the plane of her ivory neck. Closing her eyes, Ysabelle moaned softly and angled her head to the side.