Page 30 of Priest (Priest 1)
When I finally, finally broke our kiss, I was satisfied to see that the lipstick was indeed smeared. It matched her smudged eyeliner and her wild hair, it matched her hands gripping my ass like two hot brands.
“I want to be inside you,” I said. “Just a little. Just to feel it.”
“Oh God,” she breathed. “Please. It’s all I’ve thought about since we’ve met.”
“You have to hold really, really still,” I warned her. “Will you behave?”
She bit her lip and nodded, and then I took myself in my hand. I couldn’t believe I was doing this, and in the kitchen of my own fucking rectory—not that it was any worse than the sanctuary floor. But with her legs spread, with her practically whimpering from that kiss, I couldn’t have stopped myself if I tried. And I definitely didn’t want to try.
Holding myself, I pressed the head of my cock against her clit, brushing down past her entrance to her ass. She shivered in a way that told me she had no objection to that either, and I’d have to add that to the things I’d bitterly regret never having. I moved up, again grazing past her opening and up to her clit. She gave me an agonized expression and I wanted to kiss it right off her face—or come all over it, either one. After a few more passes, I couldn’t wait any longer, I had to do it or I might actually die on the spot.
I leaned my forehead against hers, both of us looking down to watch as my tip pressed against her and slowly slipped inside. I stopped when the crest of my cock was in her, and then froze, muscles quivering.
Both of us just stared down at it, this impossible sight: me inside of her, a priest tasting the forbidden fruit and barely able to keep himself from eating it all.
“How does it feel?” she whispered.
“It feels…” my voice was barely more than a gasp at this point. “It feels like heaven.”
She was so tight, her cunt squeezing my tip, and there were no words to describe what that wet, slippery skin was doing to me, because it was rewriting my mind and my soul, my future and my life. It was a sensation so base and primal, so delicious, that I would have killed to feel it, I would kill somebody right now if it meant I could have my dick inside this woman again.
One and a half inches of damnation, and all I could think about was sinking deeper into hell.
She rocked forward the tiniest bit, unable to help herself, greedy lamb, and I grabbed her neck, my legs shaking with the effort not to come from that single little movement alone. “Stay the fuck still, or I’m going to come before I want to, and if that happens, then I will take you over my knee and spank your ass until you learn how to listen,” I said sternly.
My command had the predictable effect of sending goose bumps rippling up her arms. Her breathing was loud and harsh sounding in the small kitchen. “Fuck,” she whispered. “Fuck. I—this—this is the hottest thing I’ve ever done.”
It was possibly the hottest thing I’d ever done too, and I’d done a lifetime’s worth of hot things to many hot women—but none of them had been like Poppy.
Red-lipped and blue-blooded. And fuck, the horniest woman I’d ever met.
“I want to feel you come around me,” I said, my forehead still against hers, our eyes going back to the place where we were joined. I would never forget this as long as I lived, I knew, and I didn’t want her to forget either.
“That won’t take long,” she said and then gave a little husky laugh that made her clench around me. I hissed, grabbing the countertop to keep myself from losing it.
“Sorry,” she whispered, and in answer, I slid a hand over her leg to her clit and began rubbing.
“Stay still,” I reminded her as we watched my large hand, tan and calloused from all the odd jobs I did around the church, pressing into her soft pink flesh, as we watched her quiver around the tip of my dick.
“I’m trying to stay still,” she murmured, and I could tell she was, I could tell she wanted to see herself come around me as much as I did. I increased the strength and tempo of my fingers.
“Filthy girl,” I whispered. “So dirty to let me stick it inside of you. Do you like this, being spread open and used this way? I bet you like being called dirty names too.”
“P-please,” she moaned.
“Please what, lamb?”
She could barely talk now, her head lolling back against the cabinets, her arched back shoving her breasts closer to me. “Names,” she got out. “I like…the names…”
Fuck. She was really going to kill me. Death by turn on. Death by perpetual erection.
“Are you a slut, Poppy?” I bent my head down and sucked on a nipple, loving the feel of it furling on my tongue, stiffening as I sucked. “You’re sure acting like a slut, making me act this way. You’re making me break all sorts of rules, and I hate breaking rules.” I moved to her neck, kissing and biting. “You’ll take it anywhere you can get it, won’t you?”
“I’m—” She inhaled, unable to finish, but she didn’t need to because she was coming now, her body undulating as if to chase the waves of pleasure that rolled through it. Again and again, her pussy clamped down on the head of my cock, squeezing and pulsing, and just knowing that I could make her come with only the shallowest of penetrations made me nearly wild.
She slumped in my arms as she came down, resting her head on my shoulder. “Your turn,” she said against my skin.
I started to pull out but she grabbed my hips and stopped me. “No,” she said. “In me.”
