CHAPTER 9
“Glad you got to visit with The Belle Eveque,” Samuel said to her right as she wished with all her heart that her head would return to her.
“She’s an amazing person,” she said, even managed to sound levelheaded. But she was anything but. Ever since Samuel touched her breast, her brain had gone off and never came back to wherever she was before. “And you got to talk to Your Eveque?”
He nodded. “I did.”
She nodded too, wondering what they talked about while mentally fidgeting with her mental mess. Her body wanted him, and even her head, but the two decided to be absent from each other. And she was supposed to teach him things. That night. Things she was ready-not-ready for. He’d said she had as long as she needed but that was feeling less true the longer they spent time together. He”d underestimated everything, he’d said. Did that mean he wouldn’t give her as long as she needed? And if not, how long did she have? And what would happen if she didn’t do as he needed? Would it be over?
She couldn’t imagine him doing that. She might not know how long he’d be patient but she did know for certain he wanted her and that’s what scared her maybe the most. How much he wanted her. In fact, his growing desire felt like it was on a short timer or fuse. And when that timer was up, she’d have to pay the piper. Or else.
Or else what? Or else he’d insist? Push? Persuade? Coerce?
Force?
She mentally shook that from her head. He was not a forcer. He was nothing like those other men she’d stupidly trusted. He’d not hurt her like that.
So why was she so nervous?
“You’re quiet, Ma Cherie. What has you so bothered?”
She eyed him a couple times. Was he seeing what she was fretting over? God, she hoped not. “Is it that obvious?”
His sexy mouth tugged at the edge. “Ma Cherie, you are an open book to me.” He nailed her with those piercing blue eyes then eased them back to the road. “But I’m careful not to read those pages.”
All her needs for him returned suddenly, amazing her. There one minute, gone the next. “Why don’t you?” She again eyed his crotch in those jeans, her womb clenching at recalling what was under that denim, waiting for her.
“Because you haven’t invited me to.”
Why was she surprised? That’s what made him different. He was kind. Compassionate. Mannered. Gorgeous. Sexy. She glanced discreetly at his cock again, sure it must be hard for it to be that big in his jeans.
“Ma Cherie,” he muttered. “You are burning me again with that look.”
She bit her tongue on an apology, sure that wasn’t what she wanted to ever do with him for that. But she didn’t like being a tease. That’s what she’d been. “I’ll try harder. I can’t say I don’t like teasing you.”
“I see that. Why do you think?”
She eyed the familiar places in Breaux Bridge, glad the windows were tinted. “Not really sure, honestly.”
“It’s because you need to be sure I want you, I think.”
She eyed him, surprised with his conviction. “You think?” she asked, getting his nod.
“I do. And I don’t mind confirming it as often as you need me to.”
“But I don’t like making you… burn either.”
He eyed his mirrors then tossed her an easy, sexy smile as he pulled into a parking spot at the hardware store. “I’d say you do and you don’t. But when you trust me more, that’ll change.”
His faith soothed her and she remembered how that woman looked at him. Ms. Prejean. And how he’d kissed her to answer who his date was. Was there a woman who didn’t want him? She doubted it.
“I know you’re nervous about tonight,” he said after he turned the truck off.
She wasn’t sure how to respond.
“We don’t have to if you don’t want.”
He tossed her his sweet smile and she knew right then what she wanted. “I want to.”
The full-blown smile he gave her tickled her to her toes. “If you knew how hard it was for me to say that,” he confessed, aiming his grin at the windshield.
A brief flash of something crossed his face that tugged in her chest before his smile faded and he looked away. “I won’t let you down,” she whispered, feeling like he might be bracing for it. The second she said it, the weight of keeping her word got busy pressuring her.
God, please help me do this right with him.
“You can always change your mind with me Ma Cherie,” he muttered, looking at her. “No matter how hard it might be for me. God will see me through any fire.”
She swallowed, hoping she’d never have to put him to the test. Something told her he was still underestimating the power between them. She just hoped it was enough to help her overcome the plague that was her past.
****
The moment finally came that she dreaded and yet wanted more than anything. Samuel had cooked and was now cleaning, leaving her with nothing to do but think herself into a million dark corners. “I think I’ll take a shower,” she announced, knowing she’d need to clean every crevice for what was coming. “Since you take everything there is to do.”
He gave her that breathtaking smile that made him insanely gorgeous. “I like spoiling you. And I’ll go after you.”
Spoiling her. He was definitely doing something to her. She got her clothes, trying to be discreet about what she selected. Her teaching clothes. Black panties and her black sleeping top. She was really doing this with him. Once she did, there was no going back. No matter how she pretended they were simple lessons, it was actually her signing everything on the dotted line the moment she let him give her that ride.
In the bathroom, she fought a roiling nausea as she hurried into the shower, praying the hot water relaxed her. She took a thorough one, trying not to be longer than usual. Once done, she carefully opened the bathroom door, finding him sitting next to the fire with his forearms on his legs, hands clasped and eyes closed.
The idea that he might be praying stirred up all the craziness in her stomach, creating a wave of excited nausea. God, help me do this right. She didn’t want to disappoint him. He didn’t deserve to have his chain yanked by her stupid demons.
He remained in that position and when she reached the island, his eyes slowly opened, and he turned his head toward her. “You done, Ma Cherie?”
His voice felt like soft velvet. “Yes,” she said, her answer barely carrying.
She watched him look back at the fire and slowly stand. For some reason, he reminded her of Jesus in the garden, praying for strength before his crucifixion. Was he scared?
The idea gave her a dose of protective instincts as he made his way toward her. Her heart raced faster the closer he got, reminding her he was a double-edged sword that cut both ways. She focused on the idea he might be more nervous than her. She couldn’t imagine it. No, she could. This was his first time for everything. He stopped next to her at the island, his head hanging, hand on the counter.
“You okay?” she whispered, covering his hand with hers to offer some kind of non-sexual comfort. “I meant to say…that if you change your mind, it’s okay too. I can handle it. We can…”
Her words trailed at the slow shake of his head. “I will never change my mind about you.”
Her stomach clenched with too many things to name. “Well...it’s…okay to be nervous,” she said, not wanting him to suffer that alone. “And I’m not…hard to please. I’m not expecting perfection, just so you know.” Her voice trailed when he looked at her, evaporating her thoughts with his desperate gaze. Tortured almost.
“I’ll take my shower.”
She nodded, sure her voice box was temporarily out of order. “I’ll be waiting.”
He moved to pass her then paused, angling his look at her body. Fear sent her heart beating like crazy. “I…figured I’d dress…for the occasion.”
Whatever he’d been thinking the second before was replaced with intense, hot scrutiny he couldn’t seem to resist. He moved a little behind her and she kept still, letting him look.
“Fucking beautiful,” he barely said, the last word breaking with thick lust and passion. She closed her eyes, bracing for his touch, sure he’d just decided a shower wasn’t needed. And then the bathroom door opened and closed.
She released a gasp, her entire body sagging as she made her way around the island to a stool. “Mercy, mercy,” she whispered, sitting her shaking limbs on it. She felt like a virgin on her wedding night. Or at least what she’d imagined that would feel like.
She forced herself to think of the lessons. What she would teach him first.
Kissing. That was…the beginning. No, not with him it wasn’t. A look was the beginning with him. She’d imagine his touch was number two. She would let him look first. Then…she’d give him permission to touch. With his hands? Lips? God, it wouldn’t matter by then.
His passion would guide the rest. She couldn’t imagine him doing anything wrong in that department. But…he’d want to know anyway. If he was doing it right or wrong. She could…direct him with that. Let him know how he was doing.
She was going to throw up.
She decided to wait for him at the fire. Then she decided to spread a blanket on the floor. They could…do lessons there.
She sat on the blanket, testing out poses then thought to sit on the chair. Should she put on tea? She wasn’t sure how to make it but she could heat water.
She resisted the need to bite her nails, wishing for the millionth time there was a body length mirror. She knew what she looked like, but she’d never looked at herself as if she were somebody else looking.
The bathroom door opened and once she turned, there was no taking her eyes off of him. Only briefs. And he was coming to class fully aroused. She watched him approach. He was the beautiful one. She didn’t like a lot of hair and he was a perfect balance. His skin was untouched by the sun, making him appear almost ethereal.
“Do you approve?” he asked, stopping four feet away, facing the fire
“Approve?”
“Of my body.”
Her mouth opened and words tumbled off her tongue out of order. “Yes,” she corrected. “I like it so much I can’t think straight,” she added, sacrificing her pride to preserve all opinions regarding his beauty.
He turned and lowered to the blanket, kicking her fears up. She sat, facing the fire, wetting her lips while remembering she was supposed to be the one leading this ship. “So…I was thinking we’d start with…looking.”
Her pulse counted the seconds of silence before she glanced over her shoulder to see where that had taken him. It took him to doing exactly that.
“Looking?” he wondered, a man unable to comprehend words while he devoured with his eyes.
“You…I mean me. Letting you look. Letting you see me.”
His gaze moved up to hers. “I think I already started.”
Hearing his hunger and innocence gave her courage. Before she lost it, she stood and moved just before him then did a slow turn.
“Stop,” he ordered when her back faced him. “I need to see this part of you.”
“I have…”
“A fucking glorious ass,” he whispered, his desire stroking right on her clit. “Turn much slower.”
She did, the sound of his labored breaths making her knees weak. She faced him, her lips parting at seeing how much that affected him. He sat with a leg drawn up, arm on his knee, staring right at her privates. Dear Lord, the lust on his face... it made him look dangerously handsome.
His blue gaze rose to hers and she gasped at the heat in it. “All of you,” he whispered. “Please.”
The please was purely word embellishment because her body felt the command in the center of her boiling bones. “Which first?” She swallowed and wet her dry lips, wishing she’d put more gloss.
“Panties,” he said, his interest locked on that part of her.
She hooked her thumbs in the material.
“Turn,” he hurried.
Once she did, she slowly pushed her panties down. Halfway over her ass, she was literally dripping with desire at the sounds he made. She continued with the show, leaning over as she worked them down to her ankles, his ragged breaths making her burn.
She was an adamant shaver and as she turned to face him, she wondered if he liked that. “Do you approve?” she whispered.
“When can I touch?”
Her heart lurched then dropped straight to her stomach as she struggled to think about the plan. Look, then touch with his hands. His eyes followed her body as she knelt two feet from him. “What about seeing the top?” she wondered, breathless.
His eyes were already glued to her chest. “Please,” he said, before looking at her. “Your ass and pussy ... distracted me.”
Her breath caught at the words he used and the harsh lust dripping from them. She thought she glimpsed worry behind the burn in his eyes, but knowing she was the only woman he’d ever used those words with had her nearly panting in excitement.
She slowly removed her top, terrified what he’d think of that part of her. She didn’t have large, perfectly round anime boobs. More like medium sized, slightly melted Hershey Kisses.
“Cherie,” he whispered, reaching out for them then pausing. “May I touch?” he asked, never taking his eyes off of them.
Mercy, it was here. The jump point. She swallowed and nodded, watching his hand reach then pause just before touch down. He moved to his knees just before her, his towering frame nipping at her bravery. He seemed torn with how to touch, both hands hovering at her chest. She quietly put her arms behind her, making them push toward him as she fought the need to close her eyes. She didn’t want to miss seeing him and what he did and how it affected him.
She eyed the harsh, awestruck look of desire on his face right as he encased both breasts in the gentle warmth of his palms. After barely touching, he finally made full contact with his whole hand, letting out a gasp. “So fucking perfect,” he croaked, gliding his hands along the swell under and on the side. Next, he touched with his fingers. Ten flames, stroking all over them, feeling, pressing, working their way to the hot buttons in the center. He finally gave all his attention to that spot, his fingers stroking her nipples in every direction.
“This feels good to Ma Cherie” he whispered hotly when her moans refused to be stifled. “Your nipples are so… fucking hard,” he marveled with unsteady breaths as he felt them with every side of his fingers.
She held her hands tighter behind her back, not trusting herself to keep them off him. She needed to let him explore freely, just like he let her.
Her blood rushed to her privates when he eased back on his haunches and turned his attention lower.
Here it was. The ride was about to happen.
His fingers meandered over her stomach as though not wanting to miss an inch. He glided his palms along her sides, outlining her shape before closing his hands on her waist, fingers pressing and feeling beyond skin.
“Don’t you ever say you’re not perfect,” he whispered, his touch silky again as he continued lower.
She knelt frozen to the spot. Couldn’t even feel her knees now. And her hands were stuck together, needing something to hold on to as his hot hands moved over her hips. He focused there for many seconds, his breaths thicker as he stroked up and down, soft then squeezing, measuring, feeling, testing.
“I never want to stop feeling you,” he whispered, gliding over her upper thighs now. He reached her knees and began moving up toward the place of no return. “Ma Belle Cherie,” he whispered, angling his hot gaze on his target. “Are you ready for my touch here?”
Her breath gushed out and she swallowed, nodding.
He rose up on his knees, bringing his face right above hers. “You’re scared,” he whispered, those careful fingers stroking all over her face while he burned her alive with his gaze. “I need to kiss you.”
She closed her eyes when his warm lips touched down on her forehead while still stroking her face. “Yes,” she whispered, hearing the question in his statement.
But he didn’t just kiss, he used his lips to feel her, gliding them along her face. “I need to touch you, Ma Cherie. While I kiss you.”
His lips pressed at her temple while he stroked the back of her neck and teased along her breasts with those delicate touches. She couldn’t keep back her moans now, needing more air.
“You like the way this feels Ma Cherie?” He ran the backs of his fingers along the tip of her nipple, and she answered with hot gasps.
“I do,” she said on a pant.
“Yes?” He gave a hot groan next to her mouth and she nodded.
“Yes.”
“Can I kiss this part of you?”
“Please, yes. Hurry.”
He did as requested, but he didn’t hurry his kissing. He knelt before her, holding her breasts in both hands, moving from one nipple to the other, sucking the tip between his full lips.
She finally brought her hands into play, holding his head while her fingers sank into his silky hair, gasping when he got hungrier, opening his mouth for a bigger, harder suck.
“Samuel,” she shuddered, holding her breasts in her hands and squeezing so the nipple tightened.
“Cherie,” he answered back, pulling away to watch her do that. He rose up again, his mouth next to hers. “Your fucking tits make my cock so fucking hard.”
Desire boiled her blood, and she took hold of his face. “Kiss me,” she begged, pulling his mouth to hers.
God did he ever. Like he was waiting for exactly that from her. He matched her every lick, stroke, nip, and suck, his passion putting her skills to shame.
“Oh God, Sameul,” she moaned as his fingers slid softly over her sex, barely pressing, feeling. He pulled up, winded as he continued stroking her.
“Cherie,” he begged, lowering down to his haunches to watch what he was doing. “I need my mouth on you right here.”
****
At Cherie’s sharp moan, Revelator looked up and found his beautiful teacher overcome. Desire avalanched through him, bringing a violent testosterone to snatch the reins from her. He pushed her down onto the blanket, ready to take what she owed him. She owed him this, his mouth all over her pussy, driving her crazy like she did him.
He pushed her legs open and the immediate sink of her fingers in his hair and clawing on his scalp had him feasting on her pussy like he had on her mouth. She was back to those sexy cries only now he heard something different, a decadent nasty moaning as she flicked her hips on his mouth with an exact measure.
“Finger me,” she barely gasped.
The way his cock jerked with envy tipped him off to what she meant. He paused his feast to stroke her slit, winded as he angled his head. He watched her beautiful pussy suck the tip of his finger and raised his gaze, finding her hands squeezing her breasts. “Ma Cherie,” he gasped, pushing inside her as she flicked her hips.
“More!”
“More,” he whispered, sliding all the way in. The feel of her tight silk had his blood hammering in his cock. “You’re fucking pussy, Cherie,” he muttered, fighting to get deeper.
“Suck me, please!” She stroked herself. “Suck it right here.”
He pushed her hand away and covered the delicate mound of flesh with his mouth, sucking and licking it, so fucking ready to have his cock where his finger was.
For an entire glorious minute, he ate her pussy with the passion and reverence of a last supper. “I’m coming! I’m coming, suck it!” she gasped, pulling his hair harder than ever as she squirmed and shook under his mouth. He held that sweet flesh in a hot suction, not letting it go until that earthquake began to settle. Then he switched to soft licks, loving the aftershocks it caused in her as her fingers stroked over his scalp.
“So, so, so, good,” she moaned, out of breath. “Come kiss me.”
He crawled his way over her, sliding his cock along her as he did. “What’s my grade?” he murmured at her mouth, stroking her face then neck as he kissed her softly.
“One million,” she barely whispered, her tongue slow and silky along his.
“Fucking heaven, Cherie” he said, sliding his hand back up her neck and pressing his fingers along her jaw, then lips before driving his tongue in her mouth again. “I need to…make you mine, Cherie.”
The soft moan she gave said she wanted him to.
“The Belle Eveque said that sex means marriage to The Twelve,” she whispered. “What about to you?”
He stared down into her eyes, stroking her face with his fingers. “What do you think it means to me, Ma Belle Cherie?” He leaned and kissed her eyebrows then nose, stroking the skin where her tears fell.
She nodded. “The same?”
He devoured her mouth, holding her jaw this time with a groan. “A thousand percent, Ma Cherie. When I make love to you…I’m yours and you’re mine. And nothing in this cursed world will ever change that.” He shhhh’d her when dark fears teased at the edges of her sweet light. “Nothing will touch you once you’re mine. And once I accept Bishop”s offer as the Seer of The Twelve, you will have an entire army protecting you. And a husband with a respectable, paying job.”
****
Cherie’s heart froze in her chest. “The Seer of The Twelve?” He nodded as dread knotted in her stomach. “Is that…the same as becoming a member of The Twelve?”
He gave a light shrug of his shoulder, circling her nipple with his finger. “Something like that.”
“Does…that mean you have to be vetted?”
His beautiful gaze moved up to hers. “Vetted?”
“Belle Eveque… said members have to be vetted.”
“Bishop’s known me all my life. He wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t meet his requirements.”
She struggled to calm her raging pulse. “Belle Eveque is…setting up a vetting process for the women the Twelve will choose.”
He chuckled with wide, grateful eyes. “So glad you saved me from that.”
“How?” she wondered.
“Because I don’t have to go through it. I’ve made my choice in a wife.”
She fought back a sudden rush of tears at his words and what all of it meant. “I need the little girl’s room,” she whispered, leaning up to kiss him.
The smile he gave melted her while burning a hole in her soul. She hurried to the bathroom and shut the door, collapsing to the toilet. They’d vet her. Belle Eveque said they had to, it was a requirement. Not even the Belle Eveque escaped that process. She even had to go through some training…the Gauntlet she’d said. That wasn’t the problem for Cherie. It was them digging into her past. Once they did that, not only would she be disqualified, Samuel would know everything she’d done. He wouldn’t be allowed to be The Seer of The Twelve because of her.
She covered her face with her hands, stifling sobs. So this was it? She only got to taste heaven but couldn’t have it? But hadn’t she told God that would be enough for her? How stupid she was to think she could taste him and survive not having all of him.
She recalled what she’d told the Belle Eveque about requirements for candidates of The Twelve. That they have a morally respectful reputation. She’d condemned herself with her arrogant ideals. And now Samuel, a man of God who sacrificed all his life to serve the families of the swamp would be stained by her sins.
The tears came and she wiped them away. She paused, thinking. Maybe he didn’t want to serve. That was possible. If he didn’t really care about serving, then it wouldn’t matter so much.
She needed to find out where his heart and head was on that.
She washed her face and showered, giving herself time to gather her strength and courage. When she opened the bathroom door, she met Samuel standing at the island in only his black briefs, his back muscles on full display. He glanced over his shoulder, the one-sided smile making him beautiful. So beautiful she could forget everything bad in her life. Maybe he could be beautiful enough for both of them and everything would be okay.
He shut off the water and turned. “What’s that look for?” His eyes went on a slow journey downward before returning up.
She made her way to the other side of the island before getting trapped in his sex appeal. “I was just thinking about what you said. Being my husband with a respectable job.”
Her pulse hammered as he made his way over to her. He tugged her legs, turning her on the stool then stepping between her knees. “And?”
“Just…was wondering how you feel about…working. As the Seer of The Twelve, I mean.”
He kissed along her face, explaining softly, “I don’t get paid to do anything God is responsible for. Just other stuff.”
“Do you…I mean how do you feel about being that for the Twelve?”
He pulled up, holding her face in his hands. “I don’t mind. My gifts were always at the full disposal of The Bishops and always will be. They’re like family to me. I’m at peace about it.”
“Peace?”
He smiled, back to kissing along her face, making her pulse race with her mind. “That’s code for I prayed about it and God has approved.”
Her heart sank.
God approved.
“What’s wrong Ma Cherie? Talk to me.”
“Nothing’s wrong, I was just…curious about the job my husband would have. How long he’d be gone and leave me pining away for him.”
The smile he gave when he pulled up and stared at her stole her breath. “You just have to say the word and I’d play blind and come straight home.”
Her heart overflowed and she wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tight and shoving down another sob. He moaned, returning the gesture, his strong arms pressing her into his body.
“You will always be first in my life Ma Cherie.” He stroked his hands along her back as doom beat with its familiar dread.
“I know this,” she whispered. “And you will always be first in mine.”