Part 11 (1/2)
”I told you,” she said, trying to catch her breath. ”You made me messy today. I had to take them off.”
”So you spent the rest of the afternoon bare?”
She nodded, biting her lip.
I pulled away from the wall, still holding her, and carried her into the sanctuary, using my back to push open the door. She wrapped her legs around my waist, and it was so natural, so right, to have her in my arms that I never wanted to put her down.
”Am I in trouble?” she asked, a bit coyly.
”Yes,” I growled, nipping at her neck. ”Lots of trouble. But first, I'm going to bend you over and see exactly how bad you've been.”
My plan had been to take her into my office, but I couldn't wait the five minutes it would take to walk back there; I was barely able to keep myself from unzipping my jeans and thrusting up into her right there and then. I could bend her over a pew, but I wanted her to be able to brace and balance herself. The piano was across the sanctuary, but the altar...the church's sacred stone table was only a couple of steps away.
Forgive me, I thought and then carried Poppy up the shallow stairs. I set her down and turned her to face the altar, happy to see that it would be the perfect height with her in those heels.
”The altar,” she murmured. ”Am I your sacrifice tonight?”
”Are you offering?”
In response, she put her hands flat on the altar cloth, a move that curved her back and highlighted the round contour of her a.s.s.
”Oh, very good, lamb, but not good enough.” I pressed a hand against her back and pushed her down, watching the skirt ride slowly up the back of her thighs as she bent over. I pushed until her turned cheek was sideways against the altar, and then I found her wrists and stretched them above her head.
”Don't move an inch,” I whispered low in her ear, then walked to the sacristy, where I found a cincture. When I came back out into the apse, she was still as I left her, which deeply pleased me. I would reward her for that later.
I made quick work of knotting the white rope around her wrists and hands, thinking of the prayer priests were supposed to say as they tied their cinctures. Gird me, O Lord, with the cincture of purity, and quench in my heart the fire of l.u.s.t...
Wrapped around her wrists, binding this woman to my desires, the cincture was doing the exact opposite of its purpose, quenching nothing. My entire body was on fire for hers, flames already licking every inch of my skin, and the only way to douse them was to sink b.a.l.l.s deep into her sweet c.u.n.t. I should feel bad about that.
I should.
I stepped back to admire my work: the way her arms looked stretched forward and bound together, like a captive in supplication; the way her black heels dug into the carpet; the way her a.s.s was displayed and at my disposal.
I came back to her, lifting the hem of her skirt with one finger. ”This shows an awful lot, little lamb. Do you know how much?”
She was staring at me over the curve of her shoulder. ”Yes,” she said. ”I can feel the air on me...”
I knelt behind her as I had that time after her confession, but this time only to examine. The skirt indeed only just covered what it needed, and the slightest lift would have revealed the sh.e.l.l-pink seam of her c.u.n.t.
”Why did you wear this dress today, Poppy?”
”I wanted...I wanted you to f.u.c.k me in it.”
”That's naughty. But not quite as naughty as being in public, at work, with your bare c.u.n.t so exposed.” I stood up and then ran my hands up her thighs, catching the soft fabric in my fingers and moving it above her hips.
”What if the wind had blown your skirt up?” I caressed her a.s.s as I spoke. ”What if you'd happened to uncross your legs and someone was looking from just the right angle?”
Her voice was m.u.f.fled by her arm. ”I used to get naked for money. I'm not worried about it.”
Crack.
She sucked in a deep breath, and I watched as a red handprint bloomed on her a.s.s, clear even in the dim late-evening light.
”I'm worried about it,” I said. ”You know how f.u.c.king jealous I am of the men who got to see you like that? How jealous I am of Sterling?”
”You shouldn't be-”
Crack.
She shuddered and then widened her stance to push her a.s.s closer to my hand.
”I know I shouldn't be,” I said, ”that's not the point. I don't hold your past life against you. But this-” I let my hand slide down to cup her p.u.s.s.y, which was hot and swollen and wet ”-I'm taking this tonight. I'm making it mine. Which makes you a bad girl to be so reckless with it today.”
I spanked her again, and she moaned against her arm. ”I don't know what it is about you,” I told her, leaning close to her ear. ”But you bring out the f.u.c.king caveman in me. Look at me, Poppy.”
She did, one beautiful hazel eye peeping up over her tied arm. I squeezed her p.u.s.s.y, and she was so slippery against my palm, it took everything I had not to show how wild that made me, that she could get this turned on by the spanking and the submission. But I had to check this one box, settle this final question, because I didn't want to go to feminist ally h.e.l.l on top of the other h.e.l.ls I was destined for.
I squeezed her again and she struggled to keep her gaze on me. ”Poppy, I...I want to be like this with you. Rough. Possessive. But you have to tell me it's okay.” I rested my head on her back, rolling my face into her neck. ”Tell me it's okay, Poppy. Say those words.”
G.o.d, that lavender smell and the silky brush of her hair against my cheek and the feeling of her wet c.u.n.t pulsing in my hand. ”Just...f.u.c.k.”
”Yes,” she said, and her voice was urgent, clear, loud. ”Yes, please.”
”Please what?” I had to be sure. Because the things I wanted to do to this woman-Leviticus had not even come close to covering all the ways I wanted to defile her.
I could hear the smile in her voice along with the neediness. ”Tyler, you are exactly what I want. Use me. Be rough. Leave marks.” She paused. ”Please.”
That was all I needed. I kissed the back of her neck and then straightened so I could smack her a.s.s again, rubbing the spot right afterwards to soothe away the burn. ”Stand up and turn around,” I ordered, and she complied right away. The look on her face as she turned around was enough to make me come on its own-she looked like she would do anything, anything, to be f.u.c.ked just then, and I had a lot of things in mind for her to do.
But first.
I untied her wrists, kissing the faint indentations left behind by the rope, and then I reached behind her and unzipped her dress. It fell to her feet, leaving her completely naked with the exception of her heels. I took a minute to stare at her, at the ripe teardrops of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, big enough to squeeze, small enough to support themselves. Her supple stomach, slender and soft and slightly rounded, with the kind of hips you could dig your fingers into. The naked V of her p.u.s.s.y, smoothly delicate, and the irresistible curve of her a.s.s.
”I just realized you aren't wearing your...” she gestured at her throat.
”Day off,” I said, my voice hoa.r.s.er than I expected. I reached behind my neck and grabbed the fabric of my t-s.h.i.+rt, pulling it over my head and off my body, relis.h.i.+ng the way her lips parted and her hand drifted to her mouth as she stared at me. I unbuckled my belt, sliding the leather through the loops of my jeans and dropping it on the floor. I kicked off my shoes and took off my jeans.
I normally liked to stay at least partly clothed during s.e.x, but I wanted to give her this, my nakedness, as a gift. And selfishly, I wanted to feel every inch of her skin against mine. This was my first f.u.c.k in three years and I refused to miss a single thing.
”Come here,” I said. ”And kneel.”
She did, her breath audible now, kneeling in front of me and crossing her ankles behind her, taunting me with those heels.
”Take them off,” I said, jerking my chin down to indicate my black boxer briefs. She did, impatiently tugging them off my hips, and I groaned as my erection was finally, finally let free.
She pressed soft, red lips to the silky skin of my c.o.c.k. ”Let me suck you,” she breathed up at me. ”Let me make you feel good.”
I found her lips with my thumb, running it along her lower one and pulling it down to open her up more. ”Hold still,” I told her, and then I guided my c.o.c.k into her waiting mouth.
Holy s.h.i.+t.