Sweetest Sin: A Forbidden Priest Romance (15 page)

I offered her the bite,
and her mouth opened just wide enough to set the piece upon the pink tease of
her tongue. She bowed her head and took the offering from my hand.

Our own communion.

The cake dissolved
without a single bite, just as she had been taught. Her throaty whisper groaned
as rich as the chocolate.

“Amen.”

I prayed this
wouldn’t send us to hell.

Once wasn’t
enough. She licked her lip, catching any crumbs which might have slipped from
my fingers. Her eyes rose, the almond surprise waiting for my next offering.

I wanted this
woman too much. I wanted to praise, protect, and save her from herself…

Only so I could
desecrate her with my own desires.

My cock hardened,
vulgar and unwelcomed. It flexed against the pants beneath my cassock. Usually,
I’d relax in sweats at home. Tonight, knowing she would be here, I wore the
robes as my shield and armor.

It did nothing to
alleviate the strain.

That addictive,
sinful need.

I offered her a
second bite of the cake. Messier than the last. She captured a stray crumb with
a flick of her tongue.

She
giggled
.
Such a freeing, dangerous little tease. I longed to hear more than her
giggle
.

The third chunk of
the cake was bigger, slathered with a thick glob of icing. It layered my
fingers, and Honor opened for the bite. I held it away from her mouth.

“What type of cake
is this?” I asked.

Honor squirmed,
her fingers tangled in a dress that covered too much and too little of her
curves. She swallowed, timidly, before meeting my gaze.

“Chocolate.”

That wasn’t the
full answer. I arched an eyebrow. She twisted.

“I realized after
I made it that it’s actually…devil’s food.”

Of course it was.
Nothing this sweet could exist without sin.

Just as my angel
waited, breath held, little tempting tongue swiping over her full lips, a
darkness teased us both. A shadow. A pulse.

This was
dangerous.

And yet I lowered
the cake to her lips. I watched, enraptured, as she hummed a pleased sigh and
allowed me to feed her the delicious bite of Heaven that’d send us both to hell.
The icing coated my fingers. Honor stared at me. She took the bite greedily,
then her lips gently closed over my fingers.

The soft brush of
her tongue licked the icing from me. Her mouth was warm, silken, and utterly
forbidden.

I shuddered,
imagining more than just my fingers between her lips. The velvet fullness
enveloped me. She sucked to my first knuckle, completely devoted to her task.
She offered me the briefest thrill, the darkest passion, and the most sensual
experience of my life.

Her tongue stroked
my skin as though she worshiped every inch of me.

This was sin. This
was beautiful. This was
agony
.

I pulled away, my
body wracked in disappointed pain. Honor swallowed the cake, and the smallest
bit of icing dabbed her lip. I stopped her before she licked it.

My turn to taste.

I leaned close and
flicked my tongue against her lip. The sweetness of the chocolate had nothing
on the delicious pleasure of her kiss.

Chocolate
depravity.

I forced her
thighs apart so I could slip closer against her. I drew her nearer to my body,
and her chest pressed against me. With a heavenly murmur, Honor welcomed me
within her mouth as our tongues swirled in sweet discovery.

Her dress slipped
up, settling above her knee.

My hands trembled,
so near her smooth heated skin. She wanted my touch, and her whimper cascaded
shivers through me. The sensation tightened at the base of my spine before
aching in the places I long banished as sin.

My cock throbbed.
Strained against the pants.

The wine rested
near us. I broke the kiss with Honor to hold the wineglass—my chalice—before
her.

The symbolism was
not lost on my angel.

I tipped the wine
as the glass touched her lips. She stared at me as she took the smallest sip.
Her quiet, timid,
reverent
swallow stirred something almost sinister in
me.

I tipped the glass
again, accidentally spilling the wine. She gasped, but I was there, leaning in
to capture the precious droplets in a kiss. The dry punch of the wine blended the
dark sweetness of the cake with her natural, addictive flavor. The contrast
enthralled me.

Honor trembled,
her hands at her sides, eyes lowering as though she feared how high her dress
had crept upon the perfect swell of her thighs.

My cassock did not
belong so near the softness of a virgin’s flesh—of
any
flesh. I was fit,
muscular, and she was forced to spread her legs wide to allow me this close. I
drifted near her sacred, special place.

The holy of
holies.

The sin of all
sins.

“What else tempts
you, my angel?” My voice turned to gravel, a raw and rumbled prayer for her
honesty. “I want to know what desires control you.”

She pressed
against me. I feared I’d be scalded in the heat trapped between us.

“
Everything
tempts me, Father. I can’t sleep at night. I can’t think. Every day I lose
myself in thoughts of you.”

If only my lust
was sated with words of her desire. “Have you fought these thoughts?”

“Yes.” Her voice
hardened, as though she’d prove her faith to me then and there. But my angel
was a more delicate and complex creature than that. “But it hurts. I live in
constant agony. I wake in the middle of the night and I’m so…” She licked her
lips. “Maybe I
should
bind my hands when I sleep.”

The thought
hardened me more. I leaned close, my forehead on hers. We breathed each other,
and my silent prayers tasted of her, chocolate, and rich wine.

“Do not fear your
desire,” I whispered.

“I can’t let
myself indulge it. I can’t go over that edge.”

“Do you fear
losing yourself to lust?”

“Don’t you?”

Every minute of
every day. The difference was, I knew my limitations. I understood my
temptations.

Honor did not.

And it was my
responsibility, my only purpose in this life, to give her that confidence.

“Let me prove how
strong you are.” My fingers might have trembled had they not grasped her knee
with such demand. “I know you have the strength to resist.”

I teased her leg,
and the velvet darkness of her skin forever shrouded my mind in sin.

Her breathing
caught as the tips of my fingers slid beneath the hem of her dress. The
material bunched up, up,
up
, exposing the most intimate and hidden and
beautiful
of her secrets.

She breathed too
fast, too hard. Her body stiffened as the pink hint of her panties was exposed
to me.

The crest of her
legs—the perfect sin—the hallowed hollow of her virtue.

Hidden from view
with a pair of thin, cotton panties.

“Father…” Honor warned
me.

“Sex is about
power.” This lesson was the most important. “Power over ourselves…and power
over each other.”

Honor sighed as I
brushed higher on her thigh. I held my breath as I gently stroked the softness
hidden from my sight by those sinfully pink panties.

And here I thought
red was the color of debauchery.

Honor arched as my
finger pressed over her core. She gasped. I hated that I was forced to choose
between studying her parted lips or the crest of her legs where all my immoral
decisions hid.

“Look at how
easily your body responds, Honor. You quiver. You flinch. You
groan
.”

I had no doubt of
my control over her, but I feared her dominion over me. She mewed as my fingers
stroked a natural and raw heat. It beckoned me close, demanded I submit to my
urges, to her lovely and delicate release.

And I might have.

The challenge was real.
Hard. Painful.

And that was why I
chose to fight it.

“Lust binds your
soul,” I whispered, my finger moving in a constant and steady pace. I imagined
what wetted beneath, dampening her panties. “If you surrender, you’ll lose
yourself. Is a momentary pleasure worth the destruction of your virtue? Would
you willingly submit to this primal violation?”

Honor shook her
head. “You’re wrong, Father. Sex isn’t that…destructive.”

“No?”

I stroked harder,
faster, capturing the little nub that swelled as I teased her. Honor bit her
lip, and I longed to cause that sharp sting myself.

“Sex is an
animalistic intrusion,” I said. “It’s power and strength exerted upon another.
Even now, simply touching you, I
control
you. I’m stronger than you,
bigger than you, more powerful than you. I can manipulate you with a single
flick of my finger.”

Her body bucked.
She swallowed a whimper.

“Fight me,” I
urged her. “Don’t lose yourself.”

Her hips wiggled.
She pinched her eyes closed, gritting her teeth. I didn’t slow my motions. I
tortured her in delight with the steady pulse of a man dominating a woman’s
most vulnerable secret.

Honor edged away.

I didn’t let her
escape. I leaned over her, whispering as her body trembled for me.

“Why does this
desire exist if it’s not meant to dominate? You are nothing but prey to me,
Honor. This is primitive. Sadistic.”

And still it
pleasured
her. Too much. Honor grasped my hand, struggling for relief. She sweated,
twisting from the unrelenting pressure on her core.

One flick, one
little movement, and I’d possess her forever.

“Fight your desire,”
I whispered. “Fight me. Deny yourself that release, my angel. You have nothing
to fear from the lust you can
control
.”

I wasn’t cruel. I
tormented her for only five more seconds.

She tensed, and
her teeth clenched against a whispered breath. Her agonized beauty pleased me,
even more as she tried so desperately to fight. I memorized how she looked, how
she strained.

Her head fell
back.

“
Father
…”

I pulled away
before it was too late. Honor nearly fell from the counter. She grasped the
cabinets to steady herself as she sweated, groaned, and attempted to hide her
panties from me.

“
Good
.” I
praised her, brushing my fingers along her cheek. “Drink your wine. Relax.”

Honor refused. She
stared at me, defiant.

“You think this is
all a game of power and submission,” she said. “It’s
not
. My body will
respond to that sort of…touching, whether it is at your hand or if someone
wants to prove their love to me.”

“You’re naïve.”

“So are you,
Father.” She shuddered again. “I don’t think anyone could resist those
feelings. It’s not submission, it’s…
biology
.”

“But you did
resist. You were strong.” I let my voice soften with praise. “You have the
power to control this desire, Honor. To refuse that animalistic sin.”

She shuddered, and
I longed to capture each trembling breath in a kiss.

“It’s hard.
It…hurts.”

“You’re strong, my
angel. And it’s time to prove it.”

Honor knew what I
wanted, but she shook her head. “It’s dangerous, Father.”

“Only if you can’t
deny it.”

“Is that a
challenge?”

“Do you think
you’d fail?”

The words stirred
her more than my touch. My little angel…a born competitor.

She gathered the
hem of her dress, bunching it in her fingers. Just like my cassock, her dress had
shielded her, protected her in modest virtue.

And so we removed
it.

Nothing would
separate her from her own resolve, her own strength.

The dress fell to
the floor, and she hid her body with a cautious hand.

No bra. Only
panties.

And they were lost
too, pulled away and down, rolled over the goose bumped crest of her thighs.

I hadn’t seen a
naked woman before, not in the flesh.

She was more
beautiful than I imagined. Curves of darkness. Swells of femininity. Honor
covered her body with graceful arms, but her breathing shuttered, jiggling the
perfect surge of her breasts. A dark nipple, pebble hard and temptingly hidden,
practically glistened. What a rich, chocolate tease.

“Can
you
resist, Father?” she whispered.

“I have no
choice.”

Honor breathed
deeply as she moved her arm. She revealed herself to me. Every secret, every
fold, every deliciously sinful and heavenly beautiful innocence that the Lord had
created.