Page 41 of Priest (Priest 1)
I swore. “You’re going to make me crazy.”
She smiled around my cock, and fuck, I had to be absolved of all these sins because Saint Peter himself wouldn’t have been able to deny himself this woman. I drove into her mouth several more times, right up until I could feel that familiar clench in my belly and then I pulled out, my breathing ragged from the effort it took not to come all over that gorgeous face.
Instead, I used my thumb to wipe at Poppy’s eyes, which were now smudged with makeup and tears. The ever-so-slightly smeared lipstick I left the way it was.
In fact, it was too tempting not to kiss and lick and nibble at, and I picked her up so I could do just that while I walked her over to the altar. Her lips were swollen from my assault and yet so yielding to my kiss, so deliciously soft. I groaned into her mouth as she licked past my teeth and tasted my tongue, and I moved my mouth harder against hers. Harder and more and I could barely breathe for kissing this woman.
I set her down on the altar but didn’t end the kiss, stroking around her breasts and hips. It was damn near impossible to stop, but I was getting to the point where little else mattered apart from getting inside her, and so I did stop.
“Lay back,” I said as I broke our kiss, holding my hand behind her head so that she wouldn’t hurt it accidentally.
It was a long altar, and she wasn’t a tall woman, and so she was able to arrange herself comfortably with room to spare. I trailed one hand along her stomach as I walked around the back, facing the sanctuary as if I were beginning the communion rite. Except instead of the body and blood of Christ spread before me, I had Poppy Danforth.
I ran the tip of my nose along her jaw, oh so slowly down and across her body, loving the way she arched and tilted to my touch, so greedy. She was a feast to me—creases and hollows and supple curves—and having her like this was like the first gasp of oxygen after surfacing from the water, powerful and instinctual, and I didn’t give a fuck about all the sins I was currently committing, I was going to revel in every minute of it.
I bit at the inside of her thighs. I circled every inch of her pussy with my tongue. I kneaded her breasts with rough hands until she squeaked, and I nibbled at the dip of her navel and sucked on each nipple until she was writhing on the altar. I took kisses from her rather than sharing them with her. I slid my fingers in her cunt not to make her feel good, but so that I could relish the sensation of the slickness against my fingertips.
I knew she was getting pleasure from all this, and I did want her to come, often and hard, when she was with me. But this moment? Where I was groping and squeezing and inhaling her scent and feeding on her sighs? This was for me.
And after I was done taking what I wanted, when I was so hard that I couldn’t think straight, I climbed up on the altar with her, kneeling between her parted legs.
I waited, a hairbreadth of a second, waited for God’s voice to come thundering down, waited for a heavenly intervention like when Abraham had his only child bound and ready for sacrifice. But it never came. There was only Poppy and her heaving chest as she murmured, “Please please please…”
I didn’t know how anyone could so callously dismiss Poppy as simply a woman who always wanted it, as nothing more than a whore born into a debutante’s body. Because right now, with her eyes so dark and her skin so flushed, she was the holiest thing I’d ever seen. A miracle made flesh, waiting for my flesh to join with it.
“You are truly beautiful,” I said, running a finger down her jaw. And then I reached for her hand, lacing my fingers through hers. “Whatever happens after this, I just want you to know that this was worth it. You were worth it. You were worth everything.”
She opened her mouth and then shut it again, as if she couldn’t find the right words to say. A single tear spilled out of the corner of her eye and I leaned over her to kiss it away.
“Tyler…” she started but I silenced her with a kiss.
“Just listen,” I said, lowering myself between her legs. She shivered as the head of my cock pressed against her entrance.
“This,” I said, and I pushed partly into her, barely able to breathe for how tight she was around me. “This is your body.”
I leaned my head down and caught the delicate skin of her neck in my teeth. “This is your blood,” I whispered in her ear.
I shoved all the way in, and she cried out as her back arched off the altar.
“This is you,” I told her and the empty sanctuary, “this is you, given up for me.”
We stayed still after that, absorbing the new feeling of each other, the feeling of my hips pressed to her softness, the feeling of her tight, tight channel around me. I was worried I was going to come just being like this, just being inside.
But then I noticed that she was biting her lip and breathing shakily, and I realized that she was adjusting to my size. I could hardly fit, and what’s worse, that was what made it feel so fucking good.
God, I was such an asshole. I hadn’t made her ready enough and part of me found that hot, so hot that I was barely able to attend to her the way a good man should. I had to lean down and bite her neck and shoulders repeatedly to force myself to stay still—all I wanted to do was pound into her like she was a little fuckdoll, pump into her like nothing existed except for her pussy.
But no, this was not how our first time should be. I told her I wanted to be rough, but the rough fucking I was dying to give her would be too much, and I couldn’t bear to abuse my lamb like that.
Finally mastering myself a little, I pulled out halfway, reaching down to rub her clit, thinking I would get her off and then finish another way that wouldn’t hurt her. She caught my hand. “Don’t,” she said. “Don’t be the good guy. I told you what I wanted. Now give it to me.”
“But I want you to enjoy it too.”
“I will,” she said, her eyes wide and open and fervent. “Give me what I want, Tyler. I want this. Please.”
I groaned at her words, my dick surging, and I sank back into her slowly. My thighs and arms were trembling with the suppressed need, but I couldn’t be that guy, I didn’t want to be that guy, the guy who used a woman for himself and didn’t make it good for her. She said she wanted it, and I know I’d asked for and gotten permission, but still
, she didn’t know how rough I could be, how hard I could go.
