Page 41 of Take Me to Church
“Is that what you think made me uncomfortable, Lydia?” Christian lowers to the floor, dropping to his knees as his broad body pushes mine apart. “Or did you think I was uncomfortable because I wished it was my mouth on your cunt instead?”
I’m suddenly very grateful for the rush of air my body claimed a second ago, because right now I can’t seem to remember how to breathe. “That’s what you wished?”
The specifics of sex are still relatively new to me, which is embarrassing to admit as a twenty-one-year-old woman, but they liked to keep us innocent in the church, that way we never knew what we were missing.
Of course, I know now. There’s really no way to escape a sexual education once you have access to the Internet. And while certain aspects initially shocked me, they also intrigued me. The specific act he’s addressing in particular.
“It is.” Christian’s hands skim up my bare legs, sliding over the bend of my knees before teasing under the hem of the single sundress I own. The one I pulled on hoping to look pretty enough he wouldn’t have regrets. “Has anyone done that to you before?”
I shake my head because I’m confident it would be impossible to form words.
“I want to say that’s a shame, but I have to admit I like the thought of being the first man to taste you.” Christian’s touch slides higher, the tips of his fingers sliding into the waistband of my panties. “Can I taste you, Lydia?”
Oh boy. I still feel like I should say no. Like I should be scandalized by my current situation. I know my father would be.
But I’m not.
And somehow that makes my blood rush through my veins even faster. I’m finally really breaking away from all those ridiculous rules and controlling double standards. And that desire for real freedom sends an answer rushing from my mouth. “Yes.”
I should be a little worried Tate or Simon might come back to the office and see what we’re doing. But I trust Christian, and I don’t think he would ever put me in a position like that. Actually, I would be willing to bet every penny I have on it. Not that it would be very many pennies, but still.
Even though I trust Christian, I can’t help but glance at the door. When my gaze jumps back to his, his eyes are fixed on my face. He slowly pushes to his feet, striding to the door before quietly flipping the lock and turning back to me. My body clenches as he comes closer, expecting him to pick right back up where he left off. Instead, he passes me by, moving to the window, watching me as he twists the blinds closed.
Then he drops to the floor in front of me again. Big body pressing between my legs.
“Thank you.”
Christian’s hands rest against my skin as they curve around my thighs, shoving my dress up to my waist. “That wasn’t for you. That was for me.” He snags my panties, dragging them down as he leans back, snapping them free of my feet before tucking them into his pocket. “So I don’t have to kill someone for looking at you like this.”
I barely have time to react to his startlingly strong words before he hooks his hands behind my knees and shoves them up and wide, rocking me back in the seat as his mouth locks onto my most private part.
I had expectations for what this might feel like, but none of them come close to the hungry way Christian laps at me. The sensation is hot and wet and almost unbearable.
Almost.
The shock of what’s happening keeps my eyes glued to the sight of Christian as his tongue glides over my sensitive flesh. I can’t look away as his lips lock around my clit, gently sucking in a steady pulse that makes my legs jerk against his hold.
I grip the arms of the chair, holding on with everything I have as the tension in my body winds tighter and tighter. Each stroke of his tongue feels so good it almost hurts, both easing and amplifying the steady throb-like ache at my core.
I should hold still, avoid doing anything to give him a reason to stop, but it’s impossible. I end up rocking against his face the same way I did his hand this morning, desperate for relief. Relief only he has ever offered.
Suddenly, everything snaps, breaking apart in a wave that seizes my whole body, possessing it completely. I have no control over the jerking of my limbs as I shudder against his still stroking tongue, riding out a sensation teetering on the edge of overwhelming, until my whole body goes limp, slumping into a pile of boneless satisfaction.
After only two orgasms, I’m starting to grasp why I was kept in the dark about their existence. Once you’ve experienced them, it would be next to impossible not to want more.
To expect more.
And the men of the IGL don’t like women to have expectations.
Christian’s mouth slides to the inside of my thigh, leaving hot, wet kisses as he slides his tongue and teeth against my skin, sucking hard enough to leave a mark where no one else will see it. “So fucking sweet.”
Someone knocks on the door and I jolt, grabbing at my dress.
Christian’s face twists into a scowl. “Stay here.”
He stands up, pulling my panties from his pocket. For a second I think he’s going to offer them back, but instead he uses them to wipe the glistening skin of his face as he walks to the door. By the time he opens the lock, the pale pink cotton is back in his pocket, leaving me sitting slippery and sated behind his desk as he and Tate have a hushed conversation through the tiny gap Christian allows.
“Calm down.” Christian grips the handle of the door tighter. “We’ll go right now.”
