Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 106107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
“You seem to be doing fine,” he says in a raw, ragged voice.
I lift my head to see him staring at my cunt intently, like he’s ravenous and desperate for a taste.
I spread my thighs even wider and watch him swallow the sight.
“You could loosen the rope,” I say on a whimper. “Let me do to myself what you won’t do to me.”
He glances at me sharply, the line deepening between his brows. He assesses me for a moment, breathing heavily as he weighs his options. Tension crackles between us, stretching on seemingly forever before he reaches over and unties the rope binding my wrists, throwing it to the side.
Then, to my surprise and delight, he gets on the floor and moves between my legs. With a firm grasp on my thighs, his hard fingertips digging into my skin, he spreads them further, his mannerisms rough. His long black hair tickles my sensitive skin, adding to the sensation.
I gasp, and he stares up at me between my legs, silently asking if he should continue. The look in his eyes is starkly savage, that beast beneath the man coming through.
Yes. Eat me whole. Take what you want. Take it all.
A prickle of sweat forms at the back of my neck. I want to escape from his clutches, but at the same time, I want to be caught. I want to be his prey. I want him to feast on me and fuck me to the brink of death. I want to dance with that heaven he’s always talking about.
“Devour me,” I whisper to him. “Devour me until there is nothing left.”
His jaw tenses, a low rumble escaping him, blue eyes blazing with hunger and need, and then he plunges his face downward.
I cry out softly, my hands reaching out to make fists in his hair. His beard razes my delicate skin, his lips both hard and soft as his mouth engulfs my folds, his tongue strong and moving deftly. One long lick, then another, making my world spin, making me want to beg for him deeper.
“Priest,” I say through a groan, losing myself to the feel of his tongue. He fucks me with it, diving deep inside my cunt. It seems to be longer and thicker than humanly possible, filling me until I can’t breathe.
He groans against me, and the vibrations cause my hips to buck up against his face. Neither of us is patient tonight. Smoke fills my veins, and I’m both floating and grappling for him, tugging on his hair as if to keep me here while, at the same time, I want to be set loose.
“Christ, you taste like my prayers,” he says against me, his lips moving as he talks, his breath hot on my cunt, my eyes rolling back in my head. “I prayed for this, for you.”
My heart catches high in my throat at his words.
He prayed for me?
Is he being honest, or is he telling me what I want to hear, trying to render me useless, at his mercy? Is he—
Ow.
He bit my damn clit!
I yelp, the sound echoing in the church despite my tempered voice, and he sucks it into his mouth, moaning loudly now. I can feel the hot rush of blood, the pain quickly soothed by his soft, lapping tongue, and that heady, foggy bliss from his bite takes me over.
“I’m close,” I manage to say, nearly choking on my words, my thighs squeezing the sides of his head. “I’m…I’m…”
It’s too much. I’m wet with blood and desire, and his mouth is insatiable, frantic and messy, his lips and tongue swirling and sucking and licking, and every nerve inside me is pulled into a tight bunch. I’m chasing friction, chasing something. I fill with fire that has nowhere to go, and it builds and tightens and…
I come undone. In pieces. In ashes. Fragments scattered across this holy place.
I’m crying out his name, yanking his hair, my body bucking wildly until I think my hips might break his jaw. Heat explodes through me like a million lightning strikes, and I’m not sure where I am anymore. I’m not sure what I’ve become except this being, floating and soulful and free.
Then, in the back of my mind, I remember my plan.
There’s really no point, no way I’ll actually be able to escape.
But I have to try, at least once, and suffer the punishment for it.
“Priest,” I whisper, pulling on his hair until I bring his head up toward mine. He braces himself on either side of me as he leans in, and I go to his ear, as if I’m going to whisper something, his hair falling over my face.
Instead of saying anything, I search the desperation inside me, that need to be wild and free, and I summon my teeth.
They lengthen in my mouth, my jaw sprouting in pain. My fingers do the same, the fingernails curving forward into hardened claws.