Everything I had done that night had been in a haze of lust. And the demon knew it. With one hand, it reached out to my clerical collar. All it needed was one sharp claw. Just like that, it sliced through the white collar, tearing it from my neck and throwing it to the ground. My eyes flew wide. Naked, suddenly—or exposed in God’s house. I opened my mouth, voice coming out in a cry of protest, but Asmodeus grabbed my face, slicing new wounds into the meat of my cheeks. “If you’re going to be my bitch,” it growled, “you won’t be wearing God’s dog collar.”
