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A grin spreads onto my face at her consent. “Good girl. Turn over your wrist. I’ll test the temperature there first.”
She does as she’s told, effortlessly fitting the role of perfect submissive. I pour the wax slowly onto the back of her wrist, and she gasps softly, her eyes dilating.
“Too hot?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “No, it’s just...”
“Feels good?” I question.
Madison looks ashamed, her cheeks flushing red. “Yes,” she breathes.
Perfection.
It’s the only word to describe the beautiful woman before me.
“Lie down on the pew,” I demand.
Her nipples are hard peaks as she does as she’s told.
“Remember, tell me to stop, and I will.”
She nods in response.
I hold the candle above her bare body, the flickering light casting dancing shadows over her skin. Slowly, I tilt it, hot wax dripping onto her.
She gasps, her body arcing at the sensation.
“Too much?” I ask, ready to stop, but she shakes her head.
“No, keep going,” she insists, her voice shaky. Her trust in me is intoxicating. I continue, each drop of wax heightening her senses, dropping us further into our world of forbidden pleasure within the sanctity of the church. I know how fucked this is, but I can’t find it in me to give a shit.
Using my other hand, I rub her clit as I drip the candle wax over her stomach, trailing lower.
“Oh my God!” she cries out.
I chuckle at the irony of her plea, considering where we are.
Her reaction fuels my desire. The sight of her writhing under my touch with wax all over her beautiful body and the sound of her cries echoing in the church, it’s all too much.
I put down the candle, letting the wax harden on her skin. Leaning down, I replace my fingers with my mouth, tasting her arousal.
“Oh, Dante!” she moans, her hands gripping the wooden seat of the church pew so hard I think she might splinter it.
I look at her, our eyes meeting. “You’re beautiful like this, baby girl. Sinful and perfect. Do you want more?” I ask, the control in her hands.
She considers for a moment, her chest rising and falling rapidly with her heavy breaths. Then, with a fire in her eyes, she nods. “Yes. More.”
As I continue to explore her, delighting in her reactions and the trust she’s placed in me, we lose ourselves in our sinful sanctuary, the old church walls witnessing our carnal acts of debauchery.
I feel her climax building, and I double my efforts, my only focus on bringing her to the edge. And when she finally shatters beneath me, I keep going, licking and tasting like a man addicted.
“I need you inside me,” she whispers, reaching for my cock, which is hard beneath my robes.
I grab her wrist . “Soon, but not here...” I shake my head. “Not now.” I’m in the fucking church, for fuck’s sake. I can’t fuck her here, or I will obliterate any of my self-control.
The disappointment on her face makes me wonder if I’m doing the right thing. Hell, that ship sailed the moment I met this girl. I’ve made her come on my face in the middle of the church. I feel the need to explain why.
“You’re a virgin, your first time should be?—”
