Page 68 of Caught Up

He was silent for so long I didn’t think he’d answer me. I was just gathering the courage to yank free from his hold and walk out of there when he said, “I’ll tell you everything.”

“No more lies,” I said.

He kissed my shoulder. “No more lies.”

A creaking sound announced someone else entering the nave.

Oh, shit.

Junior clamped his hand over my mouth again. “Don’t scream.”

No threat of that. These people were judgy enough without me getting caught in a compromising position inside one of the most sacred parts of the church.

Voices echoed over the marble. I recognized the low, melodic tone of the priest. Another man spoke, and then another. Were they talking about baseball?

My ears strained as I tried to determine how many people were in the nave. All the fucking marble out there wasn’t helping, making their voices echo in a way that made it seem like they were coming from all directions. Was someone right outside the confessional? Were we about to get caught?

Junior, apparently unconcerned with the men’s proximity to our hiding spot, nuzzled my cheek. His unshaven face was rough against my skin. Warmth swept over my neck when he exhaled, and suddenly I became aware of every hard inch of him pressed against me. The way his thighs framed mine, the heat radiating off his much larger body. His arm shifted higher around my waist, jacket creaking, the smell of leather and cologne mixing with the faint traces of incense left in the booth. The hand on my mouth loosened, slid lower, gripping my jaw, fingers digging in as he tilted my head sideways and exposed my neck.

Uh-oh...

My body instantly betrayed me as the submissive I was, going loose and languid in his hold. Even my brain started to fizzle out with that blissful relaxation that came from handing your control over to someone else. Was I furious about the tracker and the possibledecade-longstalking?Abso-fucking-lutely, but all the righteous anger in the world couldn’t mask the fact that I stillwantedJunior. My body responded to him almost against my will, like it had imprinted on the sonofabitch.

What wasn’t helping was the adrenaline starting to pump through my veins. I’dalwayshad a thing for public sex, for quick, dirty hookups where anyone could catch me in the act. All it would take was one sound to betray us, one sigh or moan, and the taboo thrill of being discovered like this,in a church, sent desire racing through my veins.

Junior, feeling my response to him, dropped his hand to my throat and let out a low, masculine hum of approval. He brushed his lips over my jaw and then trailed a line of kisses downward, and I stopped trying to push his arm away and pulled it closer instead, grinding my ass against him, feeling his hard length framed between my cheeks.

What the fuck was I doing?

Probably making a huge mistake, but for the life of me, I couldn’t stop myself. Outside the booth, more voices joined the conversation, and a lively debate started over whether the new head coach of our local team would bring the city its next championship title.

I’d never been so turned on listening to a bunch of old men discuss sports before.

Junior must have felt it, too, because his hand dropped from my waist to the hem of my skirt. I immediately widened my legs, telling him with my body that, yes, I wanted this, whatever he was offering.

He yanked the back of my skirt up, pinning it between us as his hand fell away, down to his pants. The sound of his zipper sliding open was loud in the booth, and we froze, spending a breathless minute straining our ears, but the conversation outside kept on going like they hadn’t heard a thing. Slowly, Junior’s hand moved between us. I felt the tip of his cock press the soaked fabric of my underwear against my pussy, and I had to clench my jaw to keep from whimpering.

As if sensing my near slip, he tightened his hand around my throat in warning. I nodded, squirming in his hold, so fucking turned on I felt like I would die if he didn’t touch me. He made another low sound, this one a mix of impatience and lust as he thrust against me. No, this wasn’t good enough.

“More,” I pleaded, voice so low I barely heard myself speak.

He ripped my underwear to the side and then the head of his cock wasthere, pushing against my entrance. I grabbed the wrist at my neck with both hands, hanging on for dear life, desperate to feel him pushing into me.

We could get caught like this, fucking in a church.

Lust roared through me at the thought. I was so turned on I could already feel myself coating the head of Junior’s cock in slickness.

The ghost of a groan slipped out of him, barely audible even though his lips were right at my ear. “Don’t move,” he whispered.

I held still, clinging to him, shaking with need. He pushed just inside, and,oh, god, the stretch was so delicious that it seemed impossible to hold still. I wanted more of him,allof him, until he was shoved so deep that I felt him hit the back of my teeth.

But he didn’t give it to me. Instead, he held himself there, both of us breathing through our noses to try to stay quiet. A shiver wracked his body, and I knew he was just as close as I was, balanced on a precipice of near violence and trying not to pound into me, giving us away.

His other hand slid around my hip and then between my thighs. My eyes widened at the first brush of his fingertips. I was in a confessional booth, near a packed banquet hall, a group of people just outside, speared on the head of a cock, with a man’s hand stroking my clit. It was the mostlife-alteringreligious experience of my life. I’d never felt closer to God. And maybe that was blasphemous, but if it was, then I would happily claim the title of heretic, because nothing would ever make me regret doing this, not even if I found out he’d stalked me every single day for the past ten years. Heaven help me, but the slight fear that he might have done just that only drove my desire higher, adding a dangerous thrill that made my heart skip a beat before thundering on.

His fingers rolled over my clit again and again, and I kept waiting for him to push deeper, but he held himself perfectly still inside me, frustratingly shallow. I clenched around him, trying to coax him into moving even as I obeyed his order to stay still, and between the frustration of being denied, the threat of discovery, and the sensation of his fingers playing me like I was his favorite instrument, I quickly climbed higher and higher.

My inner muscles spasmed, desperate for more. I’d never been so aware of the first inch of my pussy in my life. I swore I felt every nerve ending lighting up where we touched, felt the entire outline of his cock head stretching me wide.

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