Chapter 30
And with that, he grabs my hips and pulls me forward, right to the edge of the altar.
His eyes are shining, pushing my skirts up high above my waist. His arm reaches for my breasts, pinching a nipple until I gasp, while his other hand lays over the mound just above my clit.
He gently presses it upward, exposing my clit to him.
He moans softly, the air escaping him brushes over my exposed pussy.
“You are so beautiful,” he murmurs and retracts his hand from my breast. His finger slides into my pussy. “Already so wet for me, Ada,” he purrs. His hands are warm and my pussy is throbbing in time with the thunder rolling outside the church windows.
“I want you so much,” I breathe and try to grab his hand, trying to pull him closer.
He chuckles, but doesn’t move. “So impatient,” he murmurs and pulls his hand back. He rounds the altar with deliberate steps, circling me like prey.
I’m on the altar, exposed, every shiver and gasp laid bare. My neck tilts back; I watch him, as he vanishes for a moment, returning with a small pillow, the kind priests kneel on, and drops it with a thud in front of me.
He stops, hands behind his back, gaze locked on mine.
“Do you understand what you’ve done?” he says, voice dark and amused all at once. “You’ve turned the altar into the center of my awe. You are the sacrifice, and yet…I am the one made to worship you. Every part of me was meant for this, for you.”
My breath catches. His words are scandalous, absurdly intimate, and they burn straight through me.
He tilts his head, a crooked smile tugging at his lips.
“I should be the one to demand penance, to demand devotion…but you’ve left me powerless. You are the offering I never knew I needed, and I am the debtor, chained to your presence, bound to this…impossible worship.”
I flush. He doesn’t pretend to be unaffected, he bathes in it. He’s in awe, and I feel it in every nerve. He’s made to follow me, to be undone by me, even if we don’t know why.
He kneels in front of the altar, in front of me, and with agonizing slowness, lowers his mouth to my clit.
His tongue lashes out once, slowly, dragging through my pussy as if this was the last time he was allowed near me.
A soft growl escapes him and he pushes himself closer still, adding more pressure to his tongue on my center.
“Oh…my…” I breathe, but no words follow.
Nothing has ever felt this good. He chuckles against my clit, as I feel two fingers entering my already dripping pussy.
He curls them upward once he is inside and slides them out again, slow and controlled.
His tongue is drawing lazy circles around my center.
“Is that what you need, Ada?” he murmurs.
I hum, not capable of speaking. His large hand presses down on my lower stomach and I can feel his fingers curling upward, over and over again, like building waves crashing at the shore. His tongue is coated in his spit and my wetness, enhancing the friction and making me go insane with want.
“I-I need you,” I breathe, heart thudding in my chest.
“Come on my tongue, love,” he murmurs, his fingers fucking me faster now.
The stubble on his face scratches the inside of my thighs as I clench them together, pushing my pussy against him, wanting him closer still.
“Devil’s mercy, yes—”
I come with a cry that would scandalize anyone walking past the church.
A cry that echoes through the hall like a holy prayer.
My breathing is erratic, stars are flickering in front of my eyes.
He draws back, but I sit up quickly and wrap my arms around his neck.
I need him near me, I can’t stand an inch of distance between us.
I crash my lips to his, tasting me on his tongue.
He groans into my open mouth, the sound so effortlessly erotic, it shoots straight to my pussy.
My hand moves to his trousers, opening the belt that holds them.
I pull them down and free his sizable cock.
My hands slide down his velvet shaft, the veins on it resembling the rivulets of rain sliding down the windows.
He shudders at my touch, and I grab his chin with my free hand, pulling him into a kiss.
He falls apart, falls into the kiss, falls into me as I keep stroking him, my tongue and hand drop into a sacred rhythm.
He whimpers, low and helpless, not afraid to let me know he is nearly undone.
I pull back slightly. “You made me feel so good, Malric, let me take care of you now,” I breathe and he whimpers again.
I lay back on the altar and wrap my legs around him, holding on to his cock.
I move it between my pussy lips, coating it in my wetness.
He has his eyes closed, bracing his arms on the altar next to me, as I slowly drag his cock through my slit, so slowly I can feel the tingles all the way to my toes.
He lets out a long exhale, his arms rigid, veins protruding, every inch of him wound so tightly it feels like he’s barely holding himself together. I place his cock at my entrance and push my hips down slowly.
He whimpers again, softer this time, as if he doesn’t dare make a sound.
“Sshhh…” I soothe him as he twitches when he slowly enters me. I wind my hands through his hair, slightly pulling it, making it hurt just a little.
“Do you like that?” I breathe, my own desire making it hard to speak.
He nods. “I can feel your tight pussy clenching around me, Ayna’vael. I want to fuck you until I am the only God you believe in.”
His words land the way he wants them to, nearly making me come on the spot.
“Then make me believe.”
Malric’s eyes snap open, and for a moment I feel exposed, as if he’s peering straight into my soul.
His mouth crashes onto mine and he enters me fully in one swift motion, hitting deep and hard, filling me so wholly it takes my breath away.
His tongue and lips are like an aphrodisiac, lifting me higher and higher still, stoking the fire that burns inside of me.
He pounds into me, every stroke of his cock a reminder of his devotion.
“You feel like every prayer spoken out loud,” he moans into my ear. “I can’t believe I found you.”
“You’re so hard for me,” I rasp, “tell me what you want me to do to make you feel good.”
He slows down his thrusts and lifts his head to look at me. “No, my love. This is about you, for you. You don’t need to please me, being with you is reward enough for me.”
My hair is clinging to my sweat soaked forehead and he gently brushes it away.
“Take what you need, Ayna’vael, my body is yours.”
I wrap my hand around his neck and pull him down on top of me so our bodies are nearly flush from the waist up. He begins to move his hips again, staying buried deep inside me.
My hands roam over his broad shoulders, sliding down toward his chest. I want to touch him everywhere, worship every inch of him. When my fingers brush over his nipple, he hisses sharply.
“You might not want to tell me what you like, but your body can’t lie,” I whisper as I circle my fingernail around his nipple. “Your pleasure is my pleasure, don’t you see? If you’re undone, so am I.”
I raise my hand and watch his face as I place my fingers in my mouth, sucking them in deep, coating them in my spit. I slowly pull them out, the wet sound loud in the otherwise quiet church.
He licks his lips as his eyes trail my fingers to his chest as I rub them over his nipple, drawing a desperate whimper from his chest.
“Hmmm, does that feel good?” I purr and he smirks at me.
“You little minx,” he laughs, “two can play that game.”
He lifts me up in one swift move and turns us around, so he now sits on the altar. His mouth is on my breast in a heartbeat, sucking and licking my nipple. I start moving on his cock, taking him in deep, frantically rubbing my clit against his lower stomach.
“That’s it,” he rasps. He pulls me down on him, not letting me pull back.
“Take what you need.”
I don’t need him to ask me again. My body is on fire, every inch of my skin is tingling, the throbbing in my pussy almost painful. I am so close to shattering for the second time, so I wrap my arms around him, our sweat soaked bodies melting into each other.
My body spasms around his cock, my fingernails digging into his back as I hold my breath and come so hard I fear I am going to lose consciousness.
He follows me right after, a loud moan reverberating from his chest, as if the weight of the world has been just lifted off his shoulders.
For a moment, neither of us dare to speak.
He catches his breath, chest heaving against mine, and a crooked grin pulls at his lips. “Well,” he murmurs, voice thick with amusement, “I think that counts as a proper offering…though I’m afraid it might make all other prayers feel dreadfully inadequate.”
I can’t help myself and giggle, suddenly very aware again that we are, in fact, in a church and have just fucked on the altar.
“I do hope Heaven has a sense of humor…because I think we just broke a few rules.”
He chuckles low, brushing a damp strand of hair from my face.
“If what we just did is a sin, I have no interest in Heaven. I’ll take my damnation gladly…as long as it’s here, with you.”
And I believe him.
Click.
* * *
After, the storm begins to quiet.
It has softened to a low murmur outside, rain sliding down stained-glass in silver ribbons. The air inside the church is warm and heavy.
“I don’t know how to do this,” I say quietly.
Ashford exhales slowly beside me, still sprawled against the cool stone.
“No? That’s remarkable. Because from where I’m lying, you seem to know exactly what you are doing.”
A reluctant smile tugs at my mouth. “That is not—”
“I am not entirely sure,” he continues, voice dry with exhaustion, “that I am capable of surviving another round.”
I roll my eyes faintly. “You exaggerate.”
“Do I?” He shifts just enough to look at me properly. “I am not sure I can go again…but for you, I would attempt it. If you feel you require the practice.”