Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Farrah
W hen the monsignor instructed me to remove my clothes and allow myself to be chained to Rune’s bed, I initially declined.
No. No, I can’t do it.
Why? Do you think he wouldn’t be able to withstand the temptation?
I didn’t know how to answer. I still don’t. If we were alone, there is no chance we’d make it through the full night without Rune rutting me. Both of us are aware of our highly potent attraction. But maybe he’ll overcome his needs while the monsignor observes?
Will I be able to overcome mine?
I’m ashamed to admit that…I like being chained to this bed, waiting for Rune to remove his priest’s robe and join me. I like the way my body looks in the firelight, my breasts crowned in rosy peaks, my sex a mysterious shadow between two smooth thighs. Licked in fire. An offering. A helpless offering for my Daddy.
I’m trying very hard not to dampen myself, lest the monsignor sees.
Lest Rune sees me dripping in his honor and not be able to control himself.
But oh, my goodness, my flesh is sensitive, warmed by the fire.
Ripe. Ready.
And when Rune stands above me, his eyes black and starved, my body prepares itself with twice the fervor, my inner thighs prickling, ticklish, my tummy fluttering with anticipation of the unknown. Rune’s hands on my body. Sharing a bed with this man who has been my first and last temptation. And I his.
“What are you waiting for, Father McDaniel? Disrobe and join the girl in bed.”
His chest lifts and falls on a shudder, his attention riding up and over my body, his white-collar bobbing when he absorbs the sight of my sex, shielded only slightly by a dusting of red hair. I try not to have an outward reaction to his perusal, but my toes curl all on their own, my throat evaporating of moisture.
Looking like a man on the way to the gallows, Rune begins the process of removing his robe. He angles his body away from the monsignor and a moment later, it becomes clear why. He is stiff behind the zipper of his black pants. Incredibly so. His erection curves out of necessity, but I know from kneeling before him that once freed, it will stand up proudly, a swollen soldier of pleasure.
I’m not prepared for Rune to remove his shirt.
I could never be prepared to absorb the heft of him. The brawn. He’s naturally thick in neck and torso. Combined with his ample height, he reminds me of the men who fight for money in the town square. How ironic that a man with so much physical strength should pick a profession where none is required. Although, that could just mean he’s been storing it up for the right time. My theory would stand to reason after watching him lose his temper twice at the men who mistreated me.
Rune is a powder keg.
I’m the fuse.
He’s watching me react to the sight of his naked chest, his tongue skimming along his bottom lip, eyes glittering with untold emotions. Hunger.
“I’ll remind you of this bed’s squeaky springs,” says the monsignor, almost casually. “You’re the newest priest, so you have the worst bed. It’s fine for sleeping. But anything else…any movement would be rather difficult without someone hearing.”
Jaw clenched, Rune quickly sheds his pants and gets into bed, but not before I see the solid strength of his buttocks. The hard and hefty penis bobbing, straining at the front of his body. He gets in beneath the covers and turns on his side, facing me.
Analyzing my face.
“She can’t be comfortable like this,” he says, visibly concerned, his attention drawn to the bonds keeping me secured to the headboard. “At least unchain her.”
“I’m fine,” I whisper.
Rune is skeptical. “But why is she chained? She’s a willing participant in your tests.”
Monsignor Hannibal looks a little devious surrounded by the firelight. “I’m a priest who is not tempted by the pleasures of the flesh, but I’ve taken a lot of confession. And I know a man’s mind.” He pauses. “Perhaps there is some psychological appeal to knowing she can’t reject you, even if she wants to. She can’t get away.”
Rune doesn’t like that at all. His thunderous frown says it all. “I’m starting to realize how many sick men there are in this town. Maybe everywhere.”
“I wouldn’t try and get away,” I whisper to him, longing for his body to press into my side so I can feel his heat. “It’s okay. I’m safe. I’m comfortable.”
“You heard the girl. She’s fine,” snaps the monsignor. “Now. You’re not going to be able to sleep, balanced on the edge of the bed like that. Get closer to her.”
Yes , I want to wail. Please .
“I’m simply to sleep beside her? Without engaging in…intercourse.” I hear Rune swallow hard, his voice dropping on the word intercourse . “That’s the challenge?”
The older man’s eyebrow arches. “You think it will be so simple?” No. Rune doesn’t give his response out loud, doesn’t alter his expression, but I know in my heart and mind what his answer would be. “As an impartial observer, even I can see she’s a tasty morsel that would make a young, virile man second guess his vows. A virgin with a tight puss would relieve that gnawing ache that plagues all men in their weak moments.” He nods at me. “If I was a betting man, I’d say this one is eager to relieve her own aches, as well.”
“You will cease to speak of her with any carnal knowledge,” rasps Rune, a deadly light flickering in his eyes. “You know nothing of her body or her needs.”
“Already so possessive, aren’t we?” taunts the monsignor. “Why not take full possession? The girl has entered adulthood tender and ripe. It’s only a matter of time before another man lays claim.”
Rune’s jaw bunches so tight, I can hear the tendons straining in his cheek. “ Enough .”
“Get closer to her,” the monsignor counters, raising his voice. “The fact that you’re keeping your distance only convinces me you’re afraid of what you’ll do if you touch her.”
To me, it’s easy to see the other man is right. Rune hasn’t even touched my naked body yet and he’s flushed, breathing heavy, but he has no choice but to move closer, due to the narrow confines of the bed. I bite the inside of my cheek to contain a moan when his heavy erection presses against my hip, his uneven exhale bathing my shoulder. Even closer he comes and he starts to rest his head on my arm, which is stretched overhead, but hesitates, clearly worried it’s going to be uncomfortable for me. Reaching up, he yanks the chains hard until there is enough slack to turn me over on my side, facing away from Rune. And it takes every ounce of my concentration not to whimper when he draws my bare backside into his lap, his long shaft nestling between my cheeks—pulsing, lengthening—his palm pressing low on my belly, securing me tight against him.
“I’m not even going to ask you if he’s erect this time, Farrah. Your face says it all.”
“Me?” I murmur, trying not to squirm against that big, smooth pillar. Rub against it until he climaxes all over my buttocks. “This is my first time laying with a man, even if we’re only going to sleep. I’m sure I do look a little nervous.”
“Well done, Farrah. Remind him you’ve never lain with another.” Once again, he drops his voice to a taunt. “What a pleasure it would be to mount something so tight, hmm, Father McDaniel?”
“Stop,” Rune grits. “She is a girl, not an object.”
“Ah, but as my confessors delight in telling me, deep in the throes of passion, they all become nothing more than a warm, wet hole. A place to bury one’s cock. A belly to breed. Wouldn’t you like to breed a chained-up virgin, Father?”
“ Enough! ”
Rune’s tone of voice is livid, but his body tells another story. He’s let loose a river of cream into the split of my bottom, his fingertips slipping low on my tummy, toward my sex. Is he going to touch me there? In front of the monsignor? For a moment, I think the answer is yes, and goodness, such an act would be so wicked, but my flesh is moist, eager, empty without those fingers to touch and fill it. I’ve never experienced a man’s fingers inside me, but my body tells me it’s time. It’s time to be occupied. By Rune.
“Go to sleep,” Rune says hoarsely, curling his fingers into a fist at my belly button, attempting to control his breathing…and I match mine to his. I try to calm down. Because as much as I want him to rut me, even if the monsignor is watching, I don’t want to be Rune’s downfall. I don’t want him to regret making love to me, do I?
I clamp my teeth down on my lip, trying not to sob in frustration, trying to sleep.
Next to impossible when Rune’s inches spurt droplets of semen every few minutes on my back entrance, his chest and stomach flexed against my back, his body so tense it could explode with a simple roll of my hips. Hold steady. Don’t let yourself take what you need at the cost of his livelihood. His calling.
I close my eyes tightly, focusing on my breathing. I stay in that state of suspended heat for so long, that when I open my eyes and find Monsignor Hannibal asleep in the chair by the fire, I have no idea how much time has passed. An hour? Two?
One thing is for certain, though. Rune has noticed the sleeping monsignor, too, his breathing growing decidedly shallow in my neck. As I stare into the waning fire, hot shivers snaking down my limbs, Rune firmly covers my mouth with his left hand. Then he slides his other arm beneath my hip and the bed, pulling me back against him, hard, his fingers tracing down to where they were before.
But this time, he traps my moan in one hand, while pumping two long fingers inside of me with the other. Heaven erupts on all sides of me, white flashes going off in front of my eyes. “He does make a good point,” Rune pants, slipping his fingers free of my sex and lightly teasing my clit with the pad of his middle finger, around and around and around until I’m jerking, whimpering. “I do want to breed a chained-up virgin.” He slaps my pussy quickly, so quickly, eight times at least, before squeezing it in a rough fist. “This one.”