Page 18 of Always Alchemy

‘Yes.’ Hard is an understatement. They’re pinched. Aching. Almost brittle.

‘And you’re wet between your legs?’

I hesitate, unsure where this is going. Unsure whether he’s seeking to punish me or prey upon me.

I suspect it’s both.

‘Yes.’

‘Then pull down your dress and let me see your nipples. Let me see what this sinful desire does to your body.’

I freeze.

He exhales, and it’s the sound of a man pushed beyond all limits.

‘For the love of God. I saidshow me.’

It’sthe need in his voice that undoes me.

Whatever he thinks he’s doing, it’s clear in this moment he’s simply a flesh-and-blood man.

I lift my hands and hook my fingers through the tiny straps of my dress, letting them fall from my shoulders. The entire dress slithers off my body, pooling where I’m kneeling. To all intents and purposes, I’m naked. Not that Fr Rafe can see much below my chest.

Those black eyes are fixated on my bare breasts. If he had any doubt that I was telling the truth about my arousal, it must be clear to him now.

‘Dear sweet Lord above,’ he groans, and the delicious anguish in his voice moves me. Tectonic plates shift beneath me. The air seems to swirl, to dance around me as he takes me in.

I wait.

‘Stand up,’ he orders. ‘As far back as you can, so I can see you.’

I get to my feet, stepping out of the heap of pooled silk and hitting the back wall of the booth. It’s only a couple of feet back from where I was kneeling, but I hope it gives him a decent eyeful of my naked body. I love nothing more than flesh against flesh, but the unwilling, anguished stare of this celibate man burns my skin like nothing else. That it costs him so much to yield to this reaction he’s having to me has power and desire and yearning rushing, hot and heady, through my veins.

‘So beautiful,’ he says mournfully on an exhale. ‘I knew it. I knew as soon as you told me your terrible sins that you must have a face and body made to bring men to their knees. That you’d be so beautiful they’d turn their back on salvation without a backwards glance.’

I’m unclear on whether this is a compliment or a condemnation.

Probably both.

‘Show me how they touch you,’ he orders. ‘Show me how they play with your breasts.’

I bring my hands to my breasts and run a finger along the silky underside of each before cupping them gently. Then I allow myself to strum my aching nipples. The shot of pure pleasure to my clit has me inhaling sharply and arching my back.

‘How does that feel?’ he demands.

‘Amazing,’ I tell him.

‘Wrong?’

‘No.’ The pleasure I’m enjoying at my own hands has me forcing the point. ‘It feels far too good to be wrong.’

‘That’s where you’re mistaken, you poor little sinner,’ he says. ‘But I bet you like it when they pinch your nipples hard, don’t you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do it.’

I pinch the taut little buds. I roll them. I rub them. Jesus Christ, my fingers and his burning gaze have me hot as hell.

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