AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Yeah, just like that.” His fist pumps faster, the veins in his neck pulsing as furiously as his arm. “Now tell me what you want, Ivy. Tell me what dirty things you want me to do. Confess your sins to me.”
Dear God, I’m probably going to hell, but this is the hottest fucking thing that’s ever happened to me, so I go along with it. “I want you to lick it.”
“No, no. You’re dirtier than that, Ivy. C’mon.”
“I want you …” It takes me a second to realize my ass is grinding against the wall. “I want you to eat my pussy.”
“That’s a good girl.” The man is far more exciting than I gave him credit for, oozing with all kinds of masculinity and authority. But not in a way that makes me sick, like with Calvin. No, Father Damon is having quite the opposite effect, much to my surprise. “Now tell me … how do you saysinnerin French?”
“P-pécheresse.”
He slides a nearby chair beside me, and props one of my feet onto it, opening me wider to him. “Feed it to me.Pécheresse.”
The man is dirty, with a darkness seeping out of his pores like little devils rising out of the flames. I feel like I haven’t even broken the surface of what lies beneath all that rectitude he wears like a second skin.
Thrusting my hips forward sends my clit straight into his lips, and the second his shadowy beard makes contact, my ass twitches with the tickle. His lips come together over my slit, still held open by my fingers for him, and he sucks as if he’s broken into an overripe fig, lapping up the juices. I cry out, digging my nails into his scalp, and grab a handful of his short-cropped hair. My hips make small thrusts while his tongue dips into my folds, and when his fingers curve up inside me, I can’t hold back the moan that bounces off the walls. Surely, someone walking by could hear us, but that doesn’t stop him, or he just doesn’t care, evident in the sounds of satisfaction rumbling in his chest while he fingers me, sucks me, and pumps his cock like a one-man band of pleasure.
Short staccato breaths beat against my pussy, as his hand furiously works his shaft.
“Please, Father. Stop.”
“You want me to stop?” he asks in a voice that sounds more like a growl.
“No!” God, what am I saying? I don’t wanthimto stop, I wantthisto stop. This squirming for something I can’t quite pinpoint. This sensation that has my muscles all bunched and knotted like they’re about to snap, but can’t. “Please don’t stop. Make it … go away!”
This isn’t supposed to feelgood. It’s supposed to be detached, meaningless, mindless sex. The way it feels when I’m with Calvin—purposeful and not at all enjoyable. I’m not supposed tofeelanything, but I do. I feel him probing every corner of my darkest fantasies, springing forth a surprising revelation that maybe I’m not opposed to sex with the right person.
If only the right person wasn’t a goddamn priest.
“This is … what you … deserve …” His words are broken by harsh breaths and the sound of slapping flesh. “For teasing me, pécheresse.” Two more pumps of his cock, and warm jets pulse upward, painting my thighs with his release. “Ah, fuck!”
I reach down to touch myself, taking in the view of his climax, but he pins my arm to the wall.
“No.” He pushes to his feet, towering over me, and leans down to kiss me as he rubs his hand over the front of my skirt. “You’re going to suffer. Just as you made me suffer all day.”
I want to laugh and cry at the same time, as every fiber of my body quivers at his slightest touch.
“It’s miserable, isn’t it? Feels like everything is on fire.”
Another kiss presses me into the wall, and he rubs his weeping cock up and down my slit, further exacerbating this unique torment I’ve never felt with another man. “This is what happens when you tempt me to sin, Ivy.”
If he thinks that’s a turn off, he doesn’t know me very well.
“Don’t worry.” I clench my jaw, frustrated by the tension wound so tight within me that all I want to do is rub myself against something to make it go away. “I’ll touch myself later. I’ll remember the look on your face the whole time.”
Something flickers in his eyes, and he shakes his head, removing his shirt to reveal tattoos that decorate his shoulders—most notably, an iron cross that ends just above his elbow. The second he bunches the shirt in his hands and sets it to my thigh, presumably to wipe away his release, I grab his wrist and push up to kiss him again. “I’m a dirty girl.Pécheresse, remember? Have a good night, Father. Sweet fucking dreams.” Straightening my skirt, I slide my panties back up my thighs, wet with his cum, and smile as he watches me the same way a lion might look upon a gazelle, licking his lips. I keep my eyes on him as I pass on my way toward the door. “I hope all that sin leaves a bitter taste on your tongue,” I say, before heading back to work.
13
Damon
Damn her.
I wish I could say the guilt of having glutted between a woman’s thighs was enough to set me straight and put me back on the path of righteousness, but that isn’t how temptation works. No, sin is far more conniving than that, and Ivy is about as deliciously wicked as they come. So, as the young couple sits before me, detailing out their plans for marriage and an ongoing devotion to the church, all I can think about is the scent of Ivy that lingered on my skin as I drove home, wishing I had that taste on my tongue one more time. I didn’t see her during morning mass, not that she had a habit of coming to church everyday, but that didn’t stop me from looking for her, anyway.
“We intend to write our own vows for the ceremony.” The blonde, Melissa, whose mother organizes the youth group activities, smiles at her fiancé beside her. “I already started mine,” she says, and giggles.
Their clasped hands remind me of Ivy’s in mine, and the phantom sensation of her squeezing my knuckles, as I denied her orgasm, casts a shiver down my spine.
