Page 62 of The Sinner and the Priest: Part Two

The muscles in his abdomen go rigid, and he lets out a strangled grunt. A gasp. His body spasms. Another muttered curse releases as his fingers flex in my hair and his cock floods my throat with pre-cum. I want to keep him there forever.

I hold him there, flex my throat, and look up with watery, defiant eyes. I finally let his cock pop out, and he stumbles back, a string of saliva connecting us.

“Six minutes, twenty-seven seconds.” I pant to hide my desperation. “That’s my record for holding my breath.”

He stares at me, jaw slack, and lips parted.

Tick, tick, tick, tick.

Noise outside the dining room draws our attention. Clatter in the kitchen.

We will clear the dishes and bring out dessert.

My pulse gallops hard. We’re almost out of time, and I’m still so fucking wound up, I’m going to burst.

“You want to be used, piccola? You want to lose yourself so you don’t have to feel? Fine. You win.” Cisco bends down low and bares his teeth, eyes rapidly darkening. “But you make one sound, and my family hears, then I leave you starving all night. Capito?”

My cunt clenches so hard it hurts.

“Finally,” I growl, eyes flashing.

He cradles my face with his hands and sweeps his thumbs over my forehead. Something like remorse flashes in his eyes, and I don’t understand it. Not until his voice deepens and he says, “When I say breathe, you don’t wait. You breathe.”

Holding my head, he aims his jutting cock at my open mouth, and then drives in deep and hard. This time, I choke. Gag. Spittle runs everywhere, but he rides it. He pulls out and slams back in. The force has me bracing myself on his thighs, but I don’t break eye contact. I let him see it: the pride, the surrender, the raw need. I want him to use me, and I want him to know it.

He says nothing, just breathes heavily through his nose, vein popping in his forehead, face red with strain. His biceps bulge as he forces me to meet every thrust.

Time is lost to a staccato beat of wet suction and slaps, choking squelches, and deep, grunting sounds of male desire.

And then suddenly he’s out, panting hard. “Breathe,” he says.

I gasp for air, one lungful, and then he’s in me again, fucking my mouth with a brutal pace that brings tears to my eyes. It’s all I can do to keep up. Damn me for boasting about my breath-holding record. That was years ago. I almost tap out, but refuse to fold first.

“Breathe.”

I’m allowed one lungful, and then his cock invades my throat. In and out. In and out.

“Breathe.”

In and out. In and out. My vision blurs. My head swims. His thighs tremble, muscles in his stomach contracting as if he’s trying to hold back. “Dio, Mercy—just like that—so good—brava, piccola⁠—”

His praise sends a rush of heat to my clit. I suck harder, deliberately tightening my throat around him when he pushes deep, and the broken Italian curse it earns me is worth the burning in my lungs and jaw.

“Going to come,” he warns, voice strangled. “Swallow for me.”

Hot jets fill my mouth, thick and salty, and so much that I can barely take it. He holds my head so hard that I have to fight not to choke, to make myself swallow around him as he empties down my throat.

Finally, he releases me, and I collapse back on my heels, spit everywhere, throat burning, brain blanked out by endorphins. My body is jelly, but the need between my legs is stronger than ever.

He quietly tucks himself back in, zips up, and buckles his belt with big, ragged breaths. His gaze never leaves my face. For the first time in a while, he almost looks shy, like he can’t believe that just happened.

It reminds me of how he looked at me when we first met. All those times I taunted him with crude language or brazenly flashed my body. He still feels the same. Nothing I’ve done has scared him away.

“Cisco . . .”

He leans down, grabs my jaw, and kisses me hard. His tongue sweeps in deep, even though I’m filthy, even though I’m a mess.

I let out an embarrassing whimper. I barely care that I’m still kneeling in a private dining room with his family in the kitchen outside.