Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25437 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25437 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
It’s a good thing I’m covering her mouth, because she does let out that scream and it results in rapture for me, because her cunt wrenches my shaft with the force of her orgasm, her feet kicking like she’s being assaulted, her hips lifting, legs doing their best to break my hips, but I’m too strong. I’m too mighty for that in this moment, with my hot, little sacrifice rippling around my dick, her mouth open and whining against my palm, her sexy body being flooded with so much pleasure, she’s shaking the bed.
“Feel me unload,” I grunt, forehead rolling side to side against hers. “Call me Daddy with those eyes, since I can’t hear it from your mouth.”
Just like that, she transforms into a man’s deepest fantasy, blinking up at me with open adoration, like she wants to play a secret game, and I fuck her for that. I ram so deep and so rough, she chokes like I’m pounding her throat, pussy a tight, wet mess that accepts me no matter how poorly I treat it, no matter how loudly the bed protests, it’s over now. My brain is off, my body is on and there’s one objective. A pregnant belly.
Pound, pound, pound.
Then, freedom.
I smother her, cursing hoarsely into the pillow beside her head while my balls pulse, sending electric spurts of seed up the column of my cock where I offer them to her womb, tendons twisting beneath my navel, every cell in my body on fire. Oh God, oh God. I can’t get close enough to the source of my pleasure, biting her shoulder and drawing my knees up beneath us, grinding into her for everything I’m worth, pouring my frustration and love and shame and exultation into the only body that I’ll ever touch.
“Mine. Mine, Farrah. You are mine.”
“You’re mine, too,” she gasps as I remove my hand, falling into the bed beside her, staring at the ceiling without really seeing it. Seeing only her, the only thing I want to see for the rest of my life. Blind me to anything but her. I don’t care.
Remembering her need to be soothed after pleasure, I turn her toward me, rubbing my palms up and down her back and ass, laying kisses on her cheeks, in her hair, on her mouth. I kiss her until she passes out, deep in the pillows.
And then, with a sinking sense of dread, I begin to pray for guidance.
Chapter Ten
Farrah
Iwake up with a smile on my face that quickly dissolves.
Monsignor Hannibal is leaning over me, uncuffing my wrists. Morning light fills the room, forcing me to squint at my surroundings. Thankfully my nudity has been covered by a blanket, but when I turn to seek the comfort of the man beside me…
Rune is gone.
Rune is not here.
My wrists are freed and I rub the soreness away, while watching the monsignor warily. With a thick trench between his brows, he appears irritated, but I have no idea why. Does he know what Rune and I did in the darkness last night and his agitation stems from having to denounce a priest? Or is he annoyed because he thinks we passed his final test with flying colors?
Nothing could be further from the truth.
A prickly flush creeps up the sides of my face. Rune showed me last night what it is like to be desired to the point of desperation. Suffering. And I want that feeling again, as soon as possible. I want him on top of me, calling me his. Filling me. Degrading me at my own behest and cherishing me in the very next breath. Beneath this man is where I belong. My blood has never sung a truth so clearly.
But he is not here. I have no idea what he’s thinking. Is he ashamed of our actions last night? Does he still wish to remain a priest above all else? Even love?
Merely thinking that four-letter word sends my heart into a tizzy.
I love him.
I think I’ve loved him since he came to my rescue in the field.
My body knew it before my heart, surrendering to him. Now, I want to fully surrender everything to Rune. My heart, soul, pride, trust. I want to lay all of myself at his feet.
But would he accept?
I wet my suddenly dry lips. “Is Father McDaniel saying mass this morning?”
Monsignor Hannibal pauses in the act of gathering the chains. “No, he is deep in prayer, asking the lord for guidance.”
My pulse starts to quicken. “Guidance on what?”
He eyes me with speculation. “I have my suspicions.”
Tread carefully. “Do you?”
“Yes. I still sense an undercurrent of lust between the two of you.” He hesitates, seemingly unsure. “But I have no choice but to admit failure, now that you’ve passed a majority of the tests.”
I let out a slow breath. He doesn’t know that Rune and I made love.