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She shakes her head. “I’ve been trapped most of my life.”
“Not just the nine months you’ve been running?”
“No.”
I move closer, my eyes fixed on her beautiful pale blue eyes. “Tell me who you’re running from. Maybe I can help you.”
She laughs, but it’s humorless. “No one can help me.”
“Madison, I want to help.” I grab her wrist and yank her toward me, pulling her body against mine. “Let me help you.”
I will help her. She needs to understand that she’s mine now. There’s no going back. I won’t let her go, so if her husband comes for her, she won’t be running. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill any fucking idiot that thinks of hurting her.
Her lips part, drawing my eyes to them. “And what? Let you help me and break your vows in the process. I won’t be the reason you break them.”
I arch a brow. “I think that ship sailed the day we met. And I’m not a good man, Madison. I may be a priest now, but before…” I shake my head. “I’ve never wanted anything the way I want you.”
She shudders, eyes dilating as she tilts her head toward me. It’s reckless and stupid to be in this position with her in the church where anyone could walk in, but I can’t find it in me to give a shit. Instead, I press my lips to hers and kiss her, pouring my want and need into it.
My hands move from her wrists to the back of her head, threading through her hair. Our tongues explore each others mouths. I lick up and down the length of her neck, tasting and teasing until she’s panting for me.
“I need you right now,” I breathe against her lips.
“But, Dante?—”
“Stop worrying about my vows. I broke them already, and I’ll break them a million more times for you.” I nip her bottom lip and tug at it. “Let me show you what pleasure can be like between us.”
She bites her lip, but a small smile pulls at them. She nods, gasping when I pick her up off the ground and set her down on one of the pews. Our hands and lips explore each other with a desperate hunger. I lay her down on the pew, pushing my hands under her shirt and playing with her hard nipples.
“Dante,” she moans as I pinch them, her voice echoing softly around the empty church, but I’m beyond caring about our surroundings.
I remove her shirt, baring her to my hungry gaze, pulling the cups of her bra down to reveal the most perfect breasts I’ve ever seen.
“I need to taste you right now.”
She responds with a nod, her eyes glazed with anticipation. I slide her skirt up, exposing her lace panties that are already soaked through. I remove them and lean close, inhaling the intoxicating scent of her arousal.
I move lower, planting soft kisses on her inner thighs, teasing her. She squirms beneath me, her hands gripping the pew in anticipation. I place a soft kiss on her clit, making her gasp. Then, I part her with my fingers and delve in, my tongue tracing the soft folds of her cunt, tasting her, savoring her.
“Fuck,” she gasps, her voice a desperate plea.
I respond by pressing my tongue harder. She is writhing beneath me now, her hips undulating in response to the rhythm of my tongue.
And then I get an idea. One that’s fucking wrong considering the symbolism, but oh so exciting. I stop, and Madison grunts in frustration.
“What are you?—”
“Quiet, little doe,” I order, grabbing a lit votive candle off the votive stand.
Her brow furrows when she sees it, but she doesn’t question me. Instead, she watches me intently.
“I want to introduce you to something intoxicating, but it’s up to you if you want it.”
Her throat bobs as she swallows. “What’s that?”
“Wax play.” I tilt my head. “Pain can make pleasure so much better,” I explain, my voice is a graveled whisper. “But you’ve got to trust me. Tell me to stop if it’s too much, and I will.”
She’s silent momentarily, biting down on her lower lip in consideration. She’s got no idea what she does to me when she bites her beautiful cherry lips. I can see the gears turning in her head as she considers. After what feels like an eternity, she gives a single nod. “Okay, let’s do it.”
