Sweetest Sin: A Forbidden Priest Romance (26 page)

“Father.” How was
her voice so comforting? “You told me we had to deny temptation so we could
fight our sins and test our faith. But you weren’t battling temptation, were
you? You were hating yourself. You desired me, and you thought that meant you’d
abuse me…just like you’d been hurt.”

I gritted my
teeth.

Hell was guilt.
Hell was shame.

Hell was admitting
a truth no man should have uttered.

“I wanted to prove
that I was stronger than my father,” I said. “That I could be tempted, but that
I had the strength to walk away. I wanted to know that it was possible to
desire and lust, but not become a monster like him. I
had
to know I
could deny myself those perversions…and, in the end, I couldn’t.”

Honor touched my
cheek. Why didn’t I push her away? “That’s because what we have isn’t a
perversion. It’s not pain or abuse. It hasn’t shamed me or hurt me or ruined
me.”

“What was it?”

“Amazing.” She
leaned in close. “Perfect. Something that was always meant to happen.”

Her lips met mine.
Soft. Tender.

Loving
.

“Have you forgiven
him?” she asked.

Such a simple
question which was only answered in a lifetime of hatred.  Benjamin had asked
the same question. I had no answer for him then. I couldn’t imagine the truth
now.

I clenched my jaw.
“No. He molded me into something I hate.
He does not leave
the guilty unpunished; he punishes the children for the sin of the parents to
the third and fourth generation
. I fear my father’s sins
as much as
I fear my own.”

“Why?”

I closed my eyes.
“Because I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You haven’t hurt
me.”

“Yet.”

Honor’s hand wove
through my hair. A touch so intimate and warm I was amazed at how much she
healed in the grace of her fingers.

“You can’t fear
your desires.”

“And I can’t trust
them.”

“Why?”

“Because I only
want you, my angel. My body, my blood, my soul wants
you
. That is my true
confession, Honor. I would whisper a thousand prayers for a chance to
experience the miracle of your kiss.”

“It’s no miracle.”
She stared at me, so beautiful and honest. “It’d be a sin to deny what we feel.
What we are together.”

“What are we?”

“
Healed
.”

I hardened, lost
in the grace of her words. I could fight my urges. I could deny my instincts. I
could hate myself, my thoughts, and my soul. But I couldn’t refuse her.

My body craved her
touch, and my heart begged for her comforts, her kindness, and the words we
could never whisper.

I caressed her
cheek. Her mouth parted in a breathless sigh, and I stroked my thumb over her
soft lips. She kissed me before she revealed too much.

“Then let’s sin,
my angel,” I whispered. “And we’ll both be healed in that beautiful darkness.”

Her kiss burned
like fire and tasted of forbidden fruit.

And it felt like
something
good
.

Holy.

She acted as
though I were fragile. As if I would crumble if she touched my chest or that
I’d lose myself if she parted her lips too much. But I never feared for myself.
My control faltered near
her
. I never trusted myself with her innocence,
purity, and submission.

But she did.

She gave herself
to me, without care for the sins I’d committed or the scars that shaped me.

I kissed her,
softly and with a deliberate reverence for the gift she promised me. Honor
smiled. She mewed over my lips, but she wanted more. She tugged my hand and led
me to the shadows in my bedroom.

I hadn’t slept
there for three weeks, not since that night I had first taken her. Was it guilt
or joy that kept her in my memories? Her scent lingered on my pillows. I still
felt her in my sheets. And any time I closed my eyes, I saw her beautiful dark
curves cast upon my ivory sheets.

Was it the devil’s
torment?

Or was it a secret
blessing?

I kissed her, even
as she pulled me onto the bed. She encouraged me to climb over her.

Dangerous woman.

Her legs opened
for me. I followed, a man possessed, to nestle within her softness. How could
she trust me this much? Didn’t she realize how badly I strained, how her simple
devotion hardened me in lust and vile thought?

“All summer, I’ve
lived in shame,” she whispered. “I can’t feel guilty for wanting you anymore.”

“Wanting you is my
temptation, my angel.”

“Save me, Father.”
Her lips met mine. “I would sacrifice my eternity to spend a lifetime with you.”

God, help me
.

With a single
breathy whisper, this woman became more than temptation to me.

She became my
prayer. A reason to live.

The moment of my
salvation.

Honor arched to
kiss me. She offered more than I was willing to take, and I still gorged myself
on all that was her.

I pulled off her
shirt, tossing it somewhere beyond my bed. She helped, wiggling her hips and
slipping from her skirt and panties. Every brush of her skin hardened me. Dark
velvet against my calloused hands.

Why would a woman
this perfect damn herself for me? My desires tormented my thoughts. Would I
praise her? Or would I have her stripped? Rutted. Used.

Honor
smiled
at me. Her lips twitched in shy and lovely gratitude.

She surrendered to
my touch.

And I’d have spent
days in prayer to understand why.

“Don’t worry,” she
said. “This isn’t something to fear. This is us. Me and you.
Together
.”

I let her move me,
taking a kiss as she rolled me onto my back. Her bra fell away, and she angled
herself over my hips. I clenched a fist before my fingers curled with the
instinct to seize her, twist her, pin her to the bed where she belonged.

Instead I savored how
my angel posed over me in regal grace. I leaned forward only so she could remove
my shirt. Her fingertips tickled my chest.

I’d never liked
being touched, but Honor’s caress was nothing to fear. She traced my muscles
and summoned a raw heat inside me with every press of her fingers. I tensed, and
she was there. Over me. Kissing my shoulders, my neck, my lips.

I closed my eyes. “Do
you trust me?”

“Always.”

Heaven
.

“Why?”

Honor’s breath was
warm against my skin. “Because you are a good man. You are a good priest.” She
pulled away only to stare into my eyes. “And because I know you have a good
soul. I’m not afraid of the thoughts you have. I’m only afraid that I won’t be
able to share them with you.”

“I’ve never
confided in anyone like this.”

“I may be your
first…but I hope I’m not your last. You deserve every kindness you give to others.”

She smiled, lovely
and bright. That only made it worse—the need throbbed inside me. Honor wiggled
her hips over mine. She pressed against my cock as it ached for her.

I regretted that I
wore my sweats. Every shudder that tore through me delighted her. She teased
her body against mine. Her head fell back, and her hair caressed her chest. The
dark curls hid her budded nipples from my view.

The tease
enthralled me.

Honor moved to
pleasure herself, to grind that secret part of her against my hardness. I
doubted she knew how her shimmying body and parted lips burned me. She danced
on me. My Salome, for whom I’d promise the world and all its sins if she
enthralled me with another grind of her hips and brush of her hand.

I couldn’t help
myself. I cupped her breasts to see more, feel more, touch more of her sacred
skin. My thumbs rolled over her nipples. Honor flinched—not in pain or shame. She
wanted this.

And me.

Such a delicate
creature, but powerful. Forbidden. Her curves tempted me to do worse than
touch, and yet she thrust her breast into my hand and sighed as I rolled the
aching bud in my fingers.

This caress wasn’t
meant to test her willpower. I wanted to give her pleasure. I longed for her to
accept it, surrender to it. She tensed, eager for release already.

And I could give
it to her.

My desire for her
was as dangerous as sin, but she needed no protection from me. I worshipped her
spirit. I adored her body. I’d bless every curve with the brush of my fingertips.
For a chance to earn her devoted whisper, I’d submit just as she had
surrendered.

Body. Will. Soul.

My hands drifted
low, and her breath caught with a smile. She angled her hips to press against
my cock, and every wiggle gave her a thrill of pleasure.

Once, I believed
this would be an abomination, that she would please herself and it would
desecrate her in some way.

Never again.

Her eyes fluttered
closed as the rough cotton teased her slickening body. She wetted for me. I
felt her heat and imagined what softness awaited me. Every arch forward
rewarded her with a groan of delight, and every retreat of her hips shuddered
her breath.

She deserved more
than the bunched fabric of my pants against that heavenly secret.

My fingers threaded
between her slick petals. Honor’s shiver surged adrenaline through my body. She
braced herself against the heat of my hand. I stared into her eyes and teased
that swollen, delicate, beautiful nub.

“Father…” Her
words gasped between the strikes of pleasure. “I want you.”

And I wanted her.

Hard and gentle.

Fast and slow.

Upon her back and
on her knees.

Was it possible to
both praise and destroy this woman? Could I adore and desecrate her in the same
touch, the same breath? She wetted for me, readied and begging for my invasion.

My mounting.

My love making?

I feared taking
her too hard, just as I worried I’d never take her enough. Honor soothed me.

She tugged the waistband
of my pants low. My cock sprang free, thick and vulgar and throbbing hard
enough to stand. The weight and size of it thudded against her slit.

I shouldn’t have
taken pride in the length. I’d impale her if she did what I prayed she’d do.

What I needed her
to do.

This desire had to
be dark and terrible. It was too powerful for anything
good.

My cock would pierce
inside of her. Siphon her breath and strength and rend through her.

Beautiful innocence
teased the devil in me. I wouldn’t survive denying myself the pleasure.

She tugged too
gently over my shaft, still unsure of what I liked, the pressure I needed. My
little temptress had no idea what she did to me. She straddled me, unaware of
the fires that would burn us both.

It didn’t scare
her.

Not my rasped
breath. Not my fingers curling within the blankets.

Not even my
pulsing cock, threatening her most vulnerable softness.

Honor moved before
I could toss her away or pin her down. She rubbed the head of my cock against her
silken folds. The heat nearly seared my flesh and bones away, revealing the
aching soul beneath.

“I want this,” she
whispered. “I want you inside of me. Taking me. Overwhelming me.”

And she could have
it.

She lowered over
me, and her tightness welcomed my length.
Slowly
. So slowly. She eased
down upon me, every inch which invaded her a declaration of trust and
forgiveness, desire and understanding.

I filled her.

She enveloped me.

I shuddered.

She groaned.

And within an
eternity of moments, breaths, kisses, and shivers, I was sheathed inside her.

Her body clenched,
but her grimace wasn’t of pain or shame. Her lips parted, and she whispered my
name as her hips moved a gentle inch.

I would have come
then.

That soft,
forbidden slickness trembled over my cock. She groaned, moving once more, just
enjoying
how I pushed through her, how she stretched over me. She glided only an inch or
two along my length, but shivered in a quick, fierce, and desperate response.

“Show me.” I
didn’t recognize the strain in my voice.

Seize or give. Bless
or defile.

“Pleasure
yourself, my angel.”

Give yourself to me.

Teach me.

Absolve me
.

Honor leaned over
me, her hands on my chest and her hair falling before her face. She tensed, but
she didn’t allow herself that peak. She kissed me. Her words murmured between
parted lips and flicked tongues.  

“Together.” She
dared to take more of my thickness. “We’ll take our pleasure only from each
other.”

She moved against
me in such passion. Every arch of her back and grind of her hips took more of
me within her—by her own will, at her own pace. Her breathing quivered, and I
tensed as her fingers gripped me.

Not to hold me
down. Not to pin me. Not to
take
.

Because
she
needed to feel me. She depended on my strength to keep her upright. Her slit
wetted, and my cock slid deeper, harder, faster. She groaned my name and
clutched at her bouncing breasts as that delight and trust and
connection
unified our bodies.

I held her hips
and squeezed. She whispered a deliciously tempting prayer for a mercy I wasn’t
ready to give.

“Do you know the
story of Lilith?” My voice growled, low in wonderful agony. “It’s old Jewish
folklore. Lilith was Adam’s first wife.”

“
First
?”

I held her tighter.
Controlled her. She fell onto my chest.

I could do so much
to this body.

My hips arched,
and I buried in her deeper. She groaned my name as I slammed her harder, lifted
her higher.

“The story says
she refused to submit to Adam.” A thrill teased me. “She wanted to stay on
top.”

Honor’s soft words
panted in desperation. “Who wouldn’t?”

 “Tell me
honestly.” I gritted my teeth and crashed her hard against me. “Do you trust
me, my angel?”

She didn’t
hesitate, and her answer moaned as she took my cock harder within her perfect
slit.

“Yes, Father. I
trust you.”

Then it was time
to trust myself.

I pulled her from
my cock. Honor knew what need possessed me. She willingly rested on the bed
beside me, drawing up to her hands and knees under the guidance of my trembling
hand.

Glory and sin warred
over her curves. She glistened with sweat and baited me for a bite, a kiss, a
touch.

I moved behind
her. Every twisted fantasy and wicked desire that possessed my mind was born of
this image.

An angel upon her
knees.

A woman submitting
to her man.

A passion and
pleasure bound within the depraved lusts of a sinner.

I asked her to
trust me. I had no right to demand it of her, not when I didn’t trust myself.

But I readied
myself at her hips. I kissed between her shoulders, down her elegant back, to
the curve of her thighs. Every primal need roared through me.

God, forgive me
.

I pressed my cock
against her folds.

I once believed
this would become the destruction of my faith. The rage, fear, uncertainty, and
sin
burned
away—sins purged in the absolution and truth I found within
her.