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It’s a test of wills, a battle between my primal need to claim her, to fuck her hard and fast, and the overwhelming desire to tease her to tears.
“Fuck,” she breathes, playing with her nipples. “I need it harder.”
I growl, low and animalistic. “You want it hard, baby girl?” I drill out the words, my voice edged with raw need. “You want me to fuck you like the little slut you are?”
Her eyes widen at my words, a shudder rips through her and I can’t help the smirk that curls on my lips. Her reaction is intoxicating.
Without another word, I push her onto her front so she’s on all fours on the wooden pew. And then I stand and position myself behind her, thrusting into her hard. My hands grip her hips, pulling her back onto me. “You’re such a dirty girl,” I growl.
Each stroke of my cock into her is hard, rough, just like she wants, just like she fucking needs. She moans, screams, and begs for more, and I oblige, giving into the beast within, losing myself in her.
Anyone passing by or who hadn’t left yet could hear us. They could hear the priest of their town fucking the most beautiful girl in the world in the sanctity of their holy building. And I can’t find it in me to give a fuck. The slap of our skin echoes loudly around the cavernous building.
“That’s my good girl,” I pant, my voice a low growl in her ear as I flatten my chest against her back. “Taking my cock so well. You’re so fucking tight, so perfect.” I thrust deeper, eliciting a sweet little moan from her lips. “You like that, don’t you?”
A sharp gasp is her only response as she arches her back. “Yes,” she moans. “Yes, I love it. Please give me more.”
I grin. “That’s it, baby,” I growl, “Moan for me. Let this holy place hear how good it feels, how much you love my cock inside you.” I slam into her repeatedly, her moans and pleas driving me further. “You’re such a good girl. So perfect for me.”
She glances at me over her shoulder with the most intoxicating expression. “Harder.”
Her plea for it harder leaves me in awe again. She’s inexperienced yet so insatiable. I slam into her with so much force that, for a moment, I worry she’ll break. But she takes it, every inch, every thrust, with a strength that matches my own. “You’re incredible,” I growl, my voice harsh with the intensity of my passion. “My perfect little doe.”
Her muscles spasm around my cock. I reach down to rub her clit, earning a shocked gasp. “Yes!” she screams, her voice lost in the high ceilings of the church as her body convulses with ecstasy.
Her juices squirt onto my cock, the sensation so intense it drives me insane. Her muscles contract around me, milking me as I continue to thrust into her. With a final, deep thrust, I release inside her.
“Take every drop,” I growl, filling her with my cum. I thrust into her long after every drop is spent.
“Shit.” I collapse against her, my body weight crushing her against the pew.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, shuffling uncomfortably under my weight. I pull out and wrap my priest robe around her, lifting her onto my lap as I sit on the bench and press my lips to her neck.
“I’ve been so fucking wrapped up in you, so mad with need that we didn’t use protection last night or now.” A stupid part of me likes the idea of her getting pregnant with my baby.
She shakes her head. “It’s okay. I’m clean and on the pill.”
A mix of disappointment and relief coil through me, and I nod. “Good.” I pull her face toward me and kiss her lips, thrusting my tongue into her mouth. “You’re perfect.”
She smiles, snuggling closer. “So are you.”
I’m anything but perfect. I’m dark and damaged, and I broke my holy vow in the fucking church for the third time. Because that’s the kind of man I am. Bad to the core.
We remain wrapped in each other in silence, neither wanting this moment to end. What’s happening between us is too complicated to think about. Now that I’ve had Madison, I won’t be able to stop, but a priest can’t have a relationship... I’m well and truly fucked.
Not to mention, Madison has no idea who I am and the things I’ve done in the past. If those secrets were to come to light, she’d probably run. And the problem is, much like her husband, I’d hunt her down and bring her back to me kicking and screaming. Because she belongs to me now.
15
MADISON
The bell above the coffee shop door jingles as I enter the bookstore an hour before my shift. I’m hit by the sweet aroma of freshly brewed coffee. It’s a cozy place with mismatched chairs and worn-out sofas, where the barista knows everyone by name.
I stand in line, waiting to order my latte. And then, I pass my card over to the barista, smiling.
“Hey, Madison,” Eva says behind me, making me spin to face her. “I didn’t get to say goodbye to you the other night. Where did you disappear off to?”
I swallow hard, feeling guilty that I’ve got to lie to the closest thing I’ve had to a friend in years. “I’m sorry, I didn’t feel good, so I took off early. I couldn’t find you.”
