Page 68 of Holy Hearts
“I don’t want you to be gentle,” she murmurs, her voice nearly a whisper, sending a thrill down my spine. “Father,”she adds, her eyes sparking with defiance, and a shiver of anticipation skates down my skin.
My nostrils flare as the hand on her cheek slides back to cradle the base of her skull, fingers threading into her hair as I fist it gently. She’s closer now, the faint scent of citrus and something floral teasing me, intoxicating.
“I know what you’re doing,” I warn, the words a low growl against her cheek.
She gives me a bratty, little smile, eyes glinting, and the urge to break that defiant stare pulses inside me. I smirk and look over at Julian, whose pupils are fully blown as he studies us, hands clenched at his sides, clearly on edge.
“You didn’t tell me your wife is a brat,” I mutter, tilting her head back as I step closer, pulling her body against mine fully, feeling her chest rise as her breath catches.
“She can be,” Julian says, his low voice laced with something dark and dangerous that sends a shock wave of arousal through me. “But she just needs a little reminder to behave.”
I arch a brow as I look back down at Sophie, and she pulls her lower lip between her teeth, the challenge in her eyes unmistakable. Doing a scene with a brat is not my typical dynamic. Most of the time, my subs are very obedient.Tooobedient. It’s just part of the religion kink, and when edge play is involved? Bratting out isn’t necessarily in the best interest of the sub. And yet, I can’t deny how the thought of her disobedience excites me. There’s something intriguing about knowing that Sophie is going to push back.
Until I dominate her into submission.
My eyes trace her lips, lingering on the glossy sheen of her mouth, and she notices my hypnotic gaze because she trails her tongue along her lower lip, slow, taunting, daring. And with that look in her eyes, I lose my mind.
Leaning down, I press my lips against hers, a low, guttural moan escaping me when I get a whiff of her scent, fresh roses mixed with something subtly citrusy. Her lip gloss tastes like vanilla, and her warm body softens against mine as I push my tongue into her mouth, claiming her in a kiss that’s anything but gentle.
She groans as I fist her hair tighter, my fingers digging into her hip, and something deep and dark awakens inside me, knowing I’m kissing someone I’ve wanted to kiss for weeks now. Someone who is funny, and beautiful, and smart, and so damn sexy—yet unpredictable in a way that no one else has been before.
Someone who is technically off-limits.
I could stay like this, tasting her, punishing her, but something inside me wants more.
I pull away, breathing hard, almost reluctant. “On your knees.”
Her eyes go wide, wobbling between surprise and defiance, and I ignore the way her lips are perfectly pink and swollen, the way her hair is just slightly out of place, making her look even more irresistible.
Eyes flicking between mine, she smirks, but she doesn’t move.
“Do as I say, little dove,” I murmur, the words slipping out before I can stop them, and I realize a second too late that I’ve just given Julian’s wife a term of endearment unintentionally.
She notices, too. The smirk fades for a fraction of a second, eyes widening as she catches the reverence in my voice, before her smile returns, even bolder this time. She’s just as surprised as I am, but she’s hiding it well, the bratty glint in her eye sharper than ever.
Her voice drops to a taunt. “You’re going to have to earn it.”
My pulse quickens, her challenge stirring something fierce in me. I want her submission, yes. But Ineedher trust. Slowly, I pull her close again, my hand sliding down to rest firmly at the small of her back, possessive, reverent.
For once, I don’t know if I want to break her defiance or bow to her fire. But I’m determined to do both.
Her smirk wavers as the air between us grows heavier. I can see her pulse fluttering in the hollow of her throat, her chest rising and falling as she swallows. Her resistance falters, and a softness replaces that defiant spark in her gaze. Her eyes drop, lashes casting delicate shadows on her cheeks as the challenge drains from her expression, leaving behind a quiet vulnerability.
“I’ll give you one more chance, but only because this dynamic is new,” I say, my tone firm but tinged with warning now.
For a beat, she hesitates. Her lips part slightly as her breath catches. I scowl at her, letting the moment stretch. My silence is deliberate and intended to make her squirm. The corner of her mouth twitches, like she’s trying to suppress a grin, but I can see the hesitation creeping in.
She’s testing the boundaries, but she must know where this is headed.
“On. Your. Knees.” This time, my voice is low and unyielding—the kind that brooks no argument.
Her lips part as if to retort, but something in my tone or my gaze shifts the air between us. Slowly, she lowers herself to the ground. When she finally settles on her knees, her hands rest on her thighs, but instead of the palms-up pose, her fingers drum impatiently against her legs. Her eyes dart up to mine, bold and challenging, as if to say,Happy now?
I step closer, towering over her, letting my presence press against her like a weight. “We’ll work on that attitude.”
She shifts under my gaze, the bratty facade flickering. Still, she doesn’t drop it entirely.
“Maybe I just enjoy keeping you on your toes, Father.” Her defiance has lost some of its bite, so I decide to press further. Letting the silence draw out, I circle her slowly, letting the weight of my silence press down on her.
