Page 53 of Take Me to Church
And now that she has, my body is fully invested in the reasons behind her return, urging me to do exactly as she's asked and claim control of the situation. To give her all she’s asking me for.
But I have to be careful with her. Lydia’s more hesitant than her friend or sister, so even though she claims to be ready to throw all the caution she holds close to the wind, I need to be sure she means it.
Lydia’s eyes slowly move over where I’m sitting, stopping to fix on where my cock stands at full tilt, stretching the limits of my boxer briefs. She stares at it, unblinking, the silence stretching out between us until I can’t stand it anymore. “Is there something specific you want to see, Sweetheart?”
Her eyes flick to meet mine before dropping back down to fix on my dick, which is only getting harder at her unabashed attention. She licks her lips, the motion, and the suggestion it offers, making it jerk in response.
Lydia’s breath rushes free, eyes widening. “Oh.”
Her surprise just reinforces how innocent she really is. And the deepest, darkest parts of me can’t help but love it. No one’s touched her but me. No one’s tasted her but me. No one’s felt her come undone but me.
She’s mine and mine alone.
Lydia’s lips rub together, eyes still glued to where my erection stabs toward the ceiling. “I didn’t know they could move like that.”
I force myself to stay still, trying my damndest to remember she’s not like most women. “I would guess there’s a lot you don’t know.”
Lydia frowns, her chin lifting the tiniest bit. “I’ve watched porn.”
That’s an interesting development.
Now I’m picturing my sweet, soft Lydia tucked into her bed at night, watching all the ways people can fuck on the tiny screen of her cell phone, driven by curiosity but still too afraid to take care of her own needs. “But you’ve never touched yourself?”
She shakes her head.
“Because you were worried you wouldn’t like it, right?” I understand the fear. After being told sex was only something she was meant to endure, it isn’t surprising she might be afraid that was true. “Are you still worried?”
Lydia finally drags her eyes back up to mine and shakes her head. “No.” She opens her mouth to say more, but then hesitates, sealing her lips together.
“Say it.” I want her to know she can tell me anything. Everything.
Lydia licks her lips again, shifting on her feet. “I like when you touch me.”
“Good.” I tip my head toward the door. “Then lock us in and come over here so I can touch you.”
I expect her to do as I ask. She’s back at my door for a reason and I’m happy to accommodate her need. More than happy. Eager might be a better word for how I’m feeling.
But Lydia doesn’t budge from her spot. “I didn’t come here for touching.” She lifts one hand, showing me the small foil packet she has gripped in her fingers. “I came here so you could set me free.”
Once again Lydia has surprised me. Proved she is so much more than she seems. And as much as I want to be the one to save her, I can't. So I shake my head. "Fucking me won't free you, Lydia."
Her fingers move over the condom in her hand, tracing the edges. "What if I want to do it anyway?" She turns away without waiting for my answer, silently closing the door and locking it. Then she faces me, steps slow and steady as she comes my way. "You said I could have anything I wanted from you, but I was the one who had to take it. Did you change your mind?"
Did I? I should. "No. I didn't change my mind." I fight for calm as she stops in front of me. "I just don't want you to do anything you'll regret."
Lydia meets my gaze. "I won't."
I stretch my arms along the back of the sofa, lifting my hands toward the ceiling. "Then do your worst."
I still don't entirely believe she'll follow through, but my cock has complete faith in her, and it’s straining for any attention she's willing to offer. So much so that when she reaches for the waistband of my underwear it flexes again, almost as if fighting its way free.
Lydia pauses, her eyes lifting to my face. "Can I touch you?"
My hips twitch with the need to flex, to shove myself into her waiting palm, but somehow I manage to stay still. "It'll be hard to accomplish what you want without touching me."
Lydia pulls her hand back and I nearly groan in unmet need at the withdrawal. Her expression is so sweet and filled with concern as she studies my face. "We don’t have to do this if you don't want to."
The situation is almost amusing. Somehow I've managed to get myself in a position where a beautiful, sweet, kind, sneakily defiant woman wants to fuck me and is worried I don't want her hands on me. But I’m happy to straighten things out for her.
