23 | More Sinner Than Saint

**GABRIEL**


I *smirked* at first.
And then it stretched on to a broad smile with hints of dark promise and veiled threat.
Sienna caught it too, but she was too slow to react. One moment, I was looming over her, obliterating any illusion of power she held over me and in the next, my hand hooked on her nape.
Sienna resisted a little, staring at me with the wide eyes of a woman brimming with anticipation because she knew the line she has crossed. Perhaps, she was testing my limits. And no matter how valiant my conscience was, I was both a dominant and disciplinarian.
Every inch of my skin hummed with the need to put her in her place and show what it meant to disobey me.
Sienna’s eyes were still on mine as she bit on her lower lip in order to hide her flinch. A desire grew within me, and I wanted to be the one to bite on that lips and hear her whimper for me.
“Come with me.” My voice has gone thick and hoarse as I dragged her away from the desk and towards the rectory. There was a considerable distance between the school building and residential quarters, and even though I knew that it was risky to haul a student in broad daylight, it did not faze me.
I took the shortcut, navigating through the hidden passages and lesser-known routes to reach because the place was imprinted thoroughly into my brain.
I didn’t give a care how wrong it was or how immoral it seemed to punish a student of this school beyond the limits of the institution, but that ship has already sailed. None of the rules worked when it came to Sienna Emerson.
I would not explicitly sin. It was all I could tell my twisted self in order to save my ass.
“Where are the hell are you taking me?” Sienna tried hard to sound brave, but her attempt was laughable.
“Hell is a good choice of a word even though I don’t approve.” I snorted, reaching the rectory building. By now, she’d probably understood but did nothing to back away or scream or shout in order to save herself.
Instead, she kept on poking my temper. “Who the fuck cares whether you approve or not?”
I unlocked the door angrily and shoving her inside, and then locked the door.
“Keep it up, Sienna,” I growled, barely reining in my passion. “You will just make it easier for me to punish you.”
“Admit it; you are just looking for excuses to punish me,” she challenged.
When I advanced on her, she tried to back away a few paces, but the room was too small. Her back immediately hit the wall as I took the opportunity and imprisoned her with my body and with my hands braced on either side of her head.
She looked like a lamb trapped by the wolf.
Her eyes widened again, but it was her peaked nipples that drew my attention, perking up mere an inch away from my body. A surge of power and satisfaction overwhelmed me from positioning my body against a woman like her in this primal and dominating way.
“You know what I think?” I brought my lips to her ears and whispered. “I think it’s the other way around. It’s you who wants to be punished. You like this too much, Sienna. Isn’t it? You want me to take charge and show you what it is like to be a good girl?”
Her breathing shot up as her breasts rose and fell in a hurried rhythm.
“I…what do you mean?” That shaky, breathy voice stammered.
The devil on my shoulder smiled.
I took a few steps back, allowing her room to sigh, only to grab her by the arms and haul her towards the bathroom.
“Gabriel…what are you—”
“Shut up.”
I grabbed the bar of soap from the counter, holding it under the tap while Sienna attempted a hurried escape. On reflex, my other hand seized her by the hair and held her in place while I brought the lathered object to her face.
“Open your mouth,” I ordered.
“No way.” She tried to shake her head with limited abilities as I held the rein of her neck. “You are not…”
“I said: Open. Your. Mouth.”
The fire in her eyes was now replaced with a pleading look as her gaze alternated between the soap bar and my face.
“Not that, please,” she whimpered.
“Sienna, show me that you can be a good girl and follow my orders,” I coaxed even though my hold on her remained firm.
The struggle between compliance and defiance glowed as she pursed her lips and contemplated. I could have just forced my way into her mouth, but that would be of no use. I wanted her to comply, submit herself willingly even though it would be my hand that held the leash of her will.
Very slowly and a long moment later, Sienna did part her lips but just not open enough.
“Wider,” I scolded.
I shoved the lathered bar into her mouth, watching her cringe and gag immediately when the chemical taste spread through her taste buds. She made the obvious mistake of pulling back but instinctively bit of the soap.
“Good. Now, bite it down hard and hold it there,” I instructed.
Raw tears rolled down her cheeks while soapy drool leaked from the corner of her mouth. But she did not let go of the soap.
“Here’s the thing, Miss Emerson,” I said, sliding my hand from the nape to hold the side of her face. “Bad girls who swear like a sailor get their mouth washed.” Then I tapped the soap between her lips. “If you spit it out, you will have to deal with my wrath. And it will be more than just a mouthful of soap. Have you understood? Nod if you do.”
She rewarded me with a vehement nod, which only translated her desperation.
“You did not heed my warnings. Instead, you kept swearing, giving me the attitude and keeping up with the blatant disrespect. Too many transgressions to count, I am afraid,” I told her. “On top of that, you tried to bribe me to expel you. Oh, what I would not do to teach you a hard lesson.”
Sienna glared at me through her tear-stained eyes as I gently swiped a thumb across her cheeks.
“But I don’t touch a student in anger,” I hedged, at the same time brought her back to the room and positioned her where the two walls connected.
“So, you are going to put your nose into this corner until I calm down, and you have enough time to reflect on your misdeeds.”
Sienna tried to protest, whining through the gag in her mouth while I pressed her against the wall.
“Stay. Here. And hands on your head. If you try and move them, I will tie you up. Would you like that? Tight and bound?”
She shook her head and instantly complied, arranging her hands at the back of her head with interlocked fingers.
“Good. Obey me now,” I murmured in her ears and slowly retreated.


**SIENNA**

Gabriel's breath caressed the side of my neck while his words were whispered like it was both a threat and a promise. His hands-on me were anything but firm, yet it didn’t hurt.
But everything else felt awful, especially the pungent taste dominating my tongue and the nauseous smell of the ivory soap. I could feel the icky drool creeping from the corner of my mouth, and yet I could not wipe it off.
Technically, I brought this on myself. I had provoked him, half in annoyance and half in curiosity, wanting to push him a little over the edge. I wanted to see more of the unbridled man within him than the controlled priest he pretended to be. Gabriel was always taut like a string, one who could snap anytime.
And right now, he did snap.
Instead of crossing a line like he should, he lowered me to the point of shame and was subjected to a punishment worse than I had ever imagined.
He fucking stuffed my mouth with soap!
Not wanting to make things worse, I concentrated on my breathing through the short sniffles and strained my ears to listen to the frantic footfalls behind my back. He was pacing, as restless and unsettled as I was. Once or twice, I tried to steal a look, but the heavy grunt plastered me back into position.
I did not know how long it has been, but at one point, my legs ached, and so were my hands. And the tears and drool almost drenched my shirt.
What felt like an eternity later, I felt his hand and almost jumped. Surprisingly, it was a gentle and warm feel, rubbing up and down my back from shoulder to spine.
“You are a fidgety little thing, aren’t you?” he murmured.
I whimpered miserably, mentally begging him to take out the soap. I just could not take the acrid taste anymore.
Gabriel must have seen it, too, as he sighed. “Okay. Let’s get your mouth washed now.”
Relief flooded me. He brought me back to the bathroom as I heavily leaned down to reach for the tap. It took a long time to get rid of the horrible residue of soap, but somehow, the awful taste lingered.
“This is fu— It tastes horrible! Yuck!” I spat as soon as I could speak.
“It’s soap, not cheese,” he quipped and narrowed his eyes in warning. “And good catch, by the way. I see a little improvement already, and I quite like it, Miss Emerson. Although, this was just a preventive measure to control your tongue.”
“Are you kidding me?” I gaped. “You just put me in the corner with the soap shoved into my mouth, and you want—”
He silenced me with a fierce look and a raised hand.
“And now the real punishment begins.”