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“Where do you want me?”
“In front of the confessional. Show me my sins.”
“Show you? I thought I was supposed to tell you.”
“Your body will speak for you. It reveals all you’re too ashamed to say out loud. Now do as you’re told, Miss Fallon.”
My legs shook as I approached the window, my gaze never leaving the silhouette of the man who’d haunted my fantasies without permission. I shouldn’t want him, but clearly, my subconscious was a horny bitch. And I secretly loved her for it. Even as I tried to deny myself, I couldn’t help but tremble with anticipation. I was finally going to experience what I’d been dreaming about.
I moved the chair from the center of the room to right in front of the window. Then I sat, knees together, ankles crossed. He might be my imagination, but he still had to work for it.
“Spread your knees.”
“Yes, sir.” My voice was tight and thin; need coiled in my belly as I complied.
He shifted, his shadow moving just enough I noticed, then he growled, “Wider.”
A satisfied groan came from him as I did what he instructed.
“Good girl.”
I stared hard at him, wishing I could see through the woven screen and thankful I couldn’t all at the same time. If I saw those eyes lit with fire for me, I might not survive.
“Lift your skirt. Show me your world.”
My hands were clumsy with desire as they bunched the material at my thighs and slowly tugged it up. My heart beat so loud in my ears, I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination or if the shadow figure really did let out a whispered curse.
“Pink and perfect, exactly as I remember.” He sucked in a sharp breath as though trying to get my scent. “Are you wet?”
“Y-yes.”
“Show me.”
I swallowed past the tightness in my throat. “Can’t you see?”
“Touch yourself. Slide your fingers through your perfect cunt, and let me see them glisten.”
I had to bite down on my lip as I slid my hand between my thighs. There was no stopping my moan as my fingers drifted past my swollen clit and down toward the place already dripping with desire. I swear to God, I heard a moan from inside his booth.
“Show them to me,a stor. Show me what I can do to you without even touching you.”
My hand was visibly shaking when I held up the two digits slick with the proof of what he’d done to me.
“Suck them clean.”
I balked. “Taste myself?”
“For me. Taste yourself and tell me what you taste like.”
I almost didn’t do it, but the urgency in his tone and the whatever the fuck I drank had my inhibitions all but non-existent at this point. Slipping my fingers between my lips, I sucked my arousal off them.
“Tell me what it tastes like, Sunday.”
“It’s... sweet. Like honey. Like the elixir I drank earlier.”
His warm laugh spilled over me like a caress. “Of course you’d taste like honey.”
“What do you want me to do now?” I asked, my voice betraying my need.
