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   Chapter 18 That Damn Turtleneck Dress

SANCTUM By JMFelic Characters: 17612

Updated: 2018-08-16 21:07


"Madame Niena, I'm coming. Please have my room ready for me. Instruct also the maids to bring a cool bowl of water with towel and a pitcher of cold water, " Father Azrael sharply commanded under his mouthpiece. He was not one to bring cellphones along with him, but luckily, the limousine had a feature to make direct calls in a touchscreen monitor.

"Yes, Father Azrael. I will, but uhm...what is the bowl of water and a towel for?" the woman replied in the other line.

"You will see when I arrive there. Please wait for me at the parking lot, " was his short reply before he hung up.

He swerved and weaved himself out of the traffic and into a secluded street, focusing on the road ahead, but keeping a constant eye on Aurora who was still unconscious. Hopefully, the coolness of the air conditioner inside the car would lower the heat of her body even if it would be just a little. It was still important however to take the God-forsaken dress out of her and he knows that for a fact even if he was no medical practitioner.

The nearest hospital in the Vatican City was over 1.5 kilometers away, and he disliked such places too, so he decided to bring her to his suite. It was just a five-minute drive towards the building. When he arrived at the basement parking lot reserved only for him, Madame Niena was already waiting with a maid in her side.

Madame Niena was the head of the hotel, the Relais Vatican View. She has Asian features as she was a Korean, but was happily married to an Italian man. She had been working at the hotel for twenty-long years and had known the priest for roughly three years because of a demonic possession on one of her sons. Father Azrael exorcised it out of the teenager's body, much to the gratitude of the parents.

She was of course surprised to see a woman in Father Azrael's front seat and unconscious at that. She had never seen him with a woman before. Never. But, of course, it was understandable since he was a Vatican priest.

"Madame Niena, is everything ready?" Father Azrael asked after he pulled Aurora out of the car, lifting her up in his arms. She was still hot to the touch, and he was aware that it wasn't a good sign.

"Ah, y—yes Father Azrael!" she quickly replied, whilst staring at the beautiful woman in the priest's arms.

"What happened to her?" she markedly asked when they marched along the path towards the conveyor.

"Heat stroke, " was Father Azrael's swift reply.

Yes. Heat stroke in both locals and tourists are very rampant in the area considering it was summer. Realizing it was an emergency, she immediately turned to face the maid.

"Ah! We should be quick then!" she exclaimed, gesturing the maid to press the button of the elevator.

Father Azrael's patience was slowly slipping away when they finally reached on the tenth of the twelve-floor building. There were only three suites located in this floor and Father Azrael's was the biggest. In haste, they entered in there and directly went into the bedroom where he placed Aurora in the master bed.

"Let me Father, " Madame Niena stated, approaching the unconscious woman in the bed. She touched Aurora's forehead to feel her temperature and found that it was indeed high enough to warrant a prompt attention. "I reckon she had been walking around St. Peter's Square without rest?" she remarked, "No wonder she had a heat stroke, look at this turtleneck!" A disapproving expression was immediate on her face as she eyed one of the possible culprits.

"So let's get that damn dress off of her!" he replied, mentally berating himself for not giving her white scarf back last night.

Yeah, right. What a wise move. Giving her a scarf in the morning and keeping it from her at night, all in just a day — truly a wise move.

Aurora however had an extra one; a black knitted scarf that she could have used. Why didn't she use it then? That was the question that lingered in his mind.

Madame Niena was quick to widen her eyes upon hearing Father Azrael's panicked voice. It was the first time seeing him this temperamental and distressed. It was a surefire opposite to his usual calm and collected demeanor.

She cleared her throat, ignoring the enraged priest behind her. Hurriedly, she unzipped Aurora's dress from the back and pulled it in her front not really thinking about impropriety. Right now, what was needed was immediate first aid and that first aid starts with removing her dress to promote heat loss. She pulled the sleeves out of her and left the stretch of fabric in Aurora's waist. Then, she motioned the maid who was standing on the other side of the bed to pass the bowl of cold water and towel to her.

Father Azrael was pacing the room when he suddenly paused seeing the captivating vision in front of him. He knew that it wasn't right to ogle at her, but it was too late now for his eyes were already glued on that specifically.

The fullness of her breasts...the swelling of it under her brassiere was like an open invitation. His mind was suddenly in turmoil. It was even more so when he noticed that the rise and fall of her chest made her cleavage come alive. Her slender neck, her slim shoulders, her chest and her trim waist was a delightful picture becko

n...this sight again, ' he complained and pressed his lips thinly whist staring at Aurora's tempting form. For an elegant woman like her, she sure was sprightly in bed. Indeed, a charming, playful nymph in a sea of silk cloth.

The calm rise and fall of her chest was slow and steady, definitely a far difference with his own which was deep and controlled, and it was all because of the damn flimsy chemise that provided shadowed glimpses of a welcoming pink color. His conscience winced for he knew it wasn't proper to take advantage on a show like this, but his conscience was too small...too insignificant to bother.

Aurora shifted the third time, but in this occasion, she touched her throat. Looking at her face contorting in some sort of discomfort, Father Azrael realized her throat was parched. He figured rehydration was always one of the keys to fast recovery, so he took the glass of cold water he had ordered for her from the wheeled table and drank it, mouthful, himself. In a swift motion and without any hesitation, he took Aurora in his arms and directly claimed her mouth. With the contact of their lips, his desire stirred, and he ultimately felt the uproar of his heart.

The cool liquid leaked in the corner of Aurora's lips and streamed gradually down her jaw to the neck. The feel of the liquid in her throat was like rain pouring down on a blistering hot asphalt. It was so cool, so refreshing that she just had to take more. But no... what she felt against her lips weren't an inanimate object. It wasn't the rim of a water bottle or even the brim of a glass, but a mouth! A living, caressing mouth!

Shooting her eyes open, Aurora found Father Azrael's face pressed against hers; eyes closed and lips sealed firmly. She pushed him then, terminating the collision of their mouth, but he enveloped his arms around her and then trailed kisses down her neck, licking the wasted liquid.

"Father! Father Azrael!!" Feeling invaded, she called out in haste, but he appeared to be insensitive of her outcries. She felt his lips hot on her skin as he skated them down her neck and chest. It was an unfamiliar feeling altogether, but a delightful feeling nevertheless.

"Cirrus! Cirrus!!!" she tried again in gasps, this time using his demon name, hoping it would capture his attention. "Cir—rus!"

Abruptly, Father Azrael stopped, but only to claim her mouth further, filling her in with his intoxicating kisses.

His weight pushed her down the mattress, her bare back now touching the soft pillows. In there, Father Azrael stroked her ribs and waist; the flimsy chemise became the only barrier against his searing touch. His lips were a sweet venom. She felt herself drowning in a melting poison; a poison she couldn't fight back. With his onslaught, she couldn't deny that he was rousing something inside her she had never felt before. Was she ready to welcome it? She doesn't know, but she basked on the new sensation nevertheless.

But then, it suddenly stopped.

Father Azrael heaved a crevasse of a sigh and eyed her intensely; his gold and red streaks glowing with prominence.

"Aurora..." His voice had a hushing sound that made her hearing straighten. "Don't wear a turtleneck ever again."

And then he promptly withdrew, standing beside the bed, with his gaze down at the wide-eyed, shaken Aurora.

"Tell me if you feel better, so we can go back to the house, " he said tersely, and then retreated into the receiving room with wide strides.

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