Chapter 38
THIRTY-EIGHT
Levi
I run my fingers through her hair and curl them around a fistful of it, anchoring myself as I start to fuck her pretty little mouth. I’m slow at first, gentle even, as she hums her apology around my cock. She’s so warm and wet, her tongue as eager to please as the rest of her.
She lifts her hand from the rail to touch me, and I snatch her wrist, halting her and shaking my head as I place her palm back on the wood. I want full control of this—some measure of revenge for the way she used me so fucking dirty out in the field. Even if I did love every second of it.
I won’t take her freedom from her, stealing it away like her ex would have.
I want her submission, freely given and greedily fucking taken.
I want her on her knees for me, staring up at me like she is right now.
Reminding her I’m the one who's given her salvation. That I’m the one who will do anything and everything she needs.
She might be reciting devotionals, but I’m the devoted one, drowning in my obsession with her.
It doesn’t take long before I feel the first tingle of awareness, the slow build of my orgasm against her tongue.
It’s too soon. I’m overstimulated from hunting her down and cornering her in her little sanctuary.
Taken too close to the edge by watching her eyes stare up into mine with unfiltered desire as she sucks my cock like she’s been dedicating her life to the task for years behind the convent walls.
I pull back, shallowing the thrusts of my hips into her pretty little mouth.
Making her work for every lick and swirl of her tongue around my tip.
Her fingers curl around the rail and grip it as she works herself up in the process, the kaleidoscope of light from the stained glass falling over her breasts and making her look like a work of art.
One I want to add my mark to. But not yet.
“Stop,” I demand as I pull my dick back from her lips. She whimpers at the loss, and it almost tempts me to finish off right here and now on her tongue. My eyes land heavy on her hard nipples, beading up from the cool air that wafts through the stone chapel.
“Please,” she begs.
“Please what?”
“I need something. Anything. It’s torture.” Her eyes are wide and imploring as she stares up at me.
“Come here.” I tuck myself back in before I take her hand and bring her to the benches, placing her in front of me as I sit down. “Hands on the rail again,” I instruct.
She looks back over her shoulder doubtfully, but she follows my lead, gripping the wooden rail. I use my boot to kick her feet wide and slide myself to the edge of the bench.
“Bend over.” My demand resonates against the rows of wood pews.
She eases over slowly, and I lift her skirt, resting it on her lower back.
“Lower.” I urge her down farther and farther until her ass and pussy are on full display, so wet and swollen for me, I can hardly stand it. My cock strains against my pants as I palm her cheeks, rubbing small circles over them and then squeezing a handful.
“So fucking beautiful and wet for me. I think you like it best when you feel like it’s wrong, sweetheart.”
“Please, Levi.” She whispers my name like I’m her last line of defense against torture.
So I put her out of her misery, taking a long, slow lick up her core, tonguing her cunt, and using the pads of my fingers to rub circles around her clit.
She lets out a soft moan of approval and spreads wider for me.
I wrap my hands around her thighs, laving my tongue over her, and following her cues until I have her so worked up that she rocks back against my face with each touch of my tongue.
I let out a dark chuckle, gently nipping the inside of her thigh, expecting her to squeak and curse my name.
“Fuck, do that again,” she mutters.
“This?” I nip the inside of her other thigh, letting my teeth barely scrape her, while I tighten the circle around her clit with the pads of my fingers.
“Oh god, that feels good. So good.” She climbs to her tiptoes and rocks back against the next pass of my tongue. I move lower then, nipping the back of her thigh, just under her cheek. Another soft pleading curse follows.
“You like a little pain?”
“A little. It makes it easier to stay on the edge, and the longer on the edge the harder I come,” she confesses.
“Good.” I run my tongue over her again and then squeeze one of her cheeks. I’ll be keeping that bit of knowledge in the arsenal I’ve built up for her benefit.
I let my fingers wander, dipping them inside her and softly working over her sweet little cunt until she drips. Then I brush the pad of my thumb over her second, tighter entrance, letting it glisten in the low light.
“Have you ever let someone take you here?”
“No.” She shakes her head and glances back at me. “Never wanted to.”
“Would you let me?” I meet her eyes, and she nods.
“If you were gentle, I’d try for you,” she answers quietly. “Is that my punishment?”
“Fuck no. I’d make that a reward. For both of us.” My dick and my heart swell at the idea of having something of her for myself. Something she’d always remember as being mine.
She smiles back at me, one so soft and sweet that it erodes whatever was left of my need for revenge. Now I just want her sated. Staring up at me in appreciation like I’ve given her all the things no other man can.
“Come up here on this bench.” I stand to make room for her. “On your elbows and knees.”
She moves into position, her skirt bunched around her hips and her ass up in the air, taunting me like a pretty little peach.
I wish I could take her there, sacrifice her on that altar while she says my name like a prayer.
But I can’t. I’d need more patience than I have left to take her slow and easy, working her up to take all of me.
I want her to love it—love me—so fucking much she can’t forget.
So much that she begs me for it the next time.
We'll save it for a day we both need her to remember how good I can be to her.
I make quick work of my clothes and slide into her with a low groan. She clenches down around me, and my fingers bite into her hips as I start to move.
“Oh fuck,” she cries out and splays her hands, trying to find purchase on the pew as I take her deeper.
I don’t waste time fucking her slow or sweet.
I take her like she belongs to me. We’ve both spent far too much time on the edge today.
The room fills with the sounds of us, moans and muttered curses, skin on skin, and her slick little cunt working me to crest the next wave.
I wish I’d thought to record her here like this.
“That’s it, sweetheart. Look how well you take me like this.” The praise has her cunt practically choking my cock in agreement.
“I’m so close,” she murmurs as she shifts her hips up to take more of me.
“Fuck me. Sometimes I think you’re so tight I won’t make it.” I curse, pausing to turn her over to her back, lifting her leg to my shoulder and nipping the inside of her ankle.
Her fingers slip down her neck and over her sternum.
Her breasts glitter with sweat and the light of a thousand different refractions of blues and greens and golds from the stained glass.
She uses the pads of her fingertips to tease her nipples, and they peak under her touch, her skin rippling with a fresh round of goose bumps as I take her closer.
She’s always beautiful, but like this? She’s art, and I get a private showing of the rarest kind.
Something no museum or reliquary could ever dream of having.
“Oh god.” She bites down on her lower lip and arches her back, rocking her hips against every stroke of my cock as she moans my name.
“I’m close, but I—” I switch the angle I’m at, leaning down to tease her nipple before I scrape my teeth over the tip and suck hard.
“Oh god. Yes, like that. Oh my…” Her words fade into moans; her sweet little cunt shivers around my cock as she comes hard.
I use my thumb, circling her clit to take her through a second wave as I pull out, using my right hand to finish myself off with heavy-handed strokes until thick streams scatter over her chest and stomach.
Her eyes follow my addition to the artwork, and she runs her fingertips through the pearlescent splatters, dragging them through a rainbow of color.
She streaks it over her left nipple as she throws her head back and arches into the last crashing wave of her orgasm, calling out my name as I bend to run my tongue over the pink tip of her breast.
I make easy work of the cleanup as her breathing slows, lapping up the mess I’ve made—the taste of us melding together on my tongue. Her fingers run absently through my hair, brushing it off my forehead and curling the ends around her knuckles while she watches me.
“Am I forgiven for the rope?” she whispers.
“Until the next time you do it.” I kiss my way up her chest.
“I’m not sure I’ll risk a next time.” She grins down at me, and I lift my head to meet her eyes. She rolls her lower lip between her teeth. “Seems dangerous to taunt a wolf like that.”
“Let’s hope you do, little red.” I smirk, placing one last kiss in the center of her chest.