Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99406 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99406 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
His kiss turned frantic, his hands reckless. I tried to grab his belt again, and this time, he let me. I made quick work of removing it and opening the buttons on his shirt. When I reached the collar, he raised his chin. I removed the plastic piece and stripped him down to his boxer briefs.
His erection tented the fabric, pointing directly at the juncture of my legs.
“The realm of no return.” I gripped the waistband and met his eyes.
“If the church catches fire and the walls start bleeding…” His timbre roughened. “I’m still not stopping. Nothing is going to prevent me from being with you in the way I’ve only ever been in my dreams.”
I melted, reaching for his face. He smirked, reaching for his briefs. When the last of his clothes hit the floor and his cock bounced between us, he picked me up, perched my ass on the edge of the altar, and buried his tongue between my legs.
My nipples hardened, and my head dropped between my shoulders as he worshiped my body with all the devoutness of a Catholic priest. He knew what he wanted and reached for me with open arms.
I reached, too, winding my limbs around him as he lifted me and laid me on the wood floor before the altar.
With my legs spread and the head of his cock pulsing against my core, he stared at me. I stared at him. We were both breathing through our mouths, panting, spellbound.
“Watch us, Tinsley.” He looked down.
I followed his gaze to the longest, thickest erection I’d ever seen. How that would ever fit inside was beyond me.
“Do you want this?” He smacked it against my soaked flesh.
“Magnus, you fucking prick.” I arched my back, half-snarling, half-laughing. “Give it to me already.”
He swooped in and hungrily kissed my lips, filling my mouth with his raspy promise. “You’re getting all of me, baby. There’s no going back.”
Pushing up on his arms, he stared into my eyes and pressed the head of his cock past my opening. His mouth hung open on a silent gasp as I moaned and writhed on the tip of his invasion.
And there, on the floor of the church before the altar, Father Magnus Falke broke his vow of celibacy and took my virginity.
Inch by glorious inch, he pushed, his body shaking above me, his gorgeous blue eyes never looking away.
The stretching burn swelled into enormous pressure. I shifted, widening my legs to accommodate his girth.
“Oh, fuck. Yes.” The words husked from the back of his throat, low and scratchy. “Spread that pussy. I’m gonna go so deep into that.”
And he did. He buried his full length, gently pulled out, and worked himself back in. Over and over, slow and steady, he trained my body to take his cock.
He hadn’t had sex in nine years, yet he held himself back, staving off the urge to plow into me like an animal.
His patience was such a goddamn turn-on, and I knew it cost him. His muscles were hardened bricks, his breaths shallow and taut. Tremors racked his whole body.
Swear to God, I felt him in my womb. I felt him all the way to my chest. I felt him in every corner of my soul.
Then I felt something different. Something changing. My core muscles unclenched, loosening, accepting, and the discomfort melted into staggering, overwhelming pleasure.
I wrapped my legs around him, his body like a marble altar as I pulled him closer, deeper. “Harder.”
He watched my face, kicking his hips, testing each stroke while adding more force. So fucking good.
Jaw locked tight, eyes afire with desire, his expression blazed with intensity, like tunnel vision, as if he focused exclusively on my reactions and nothing else existed.
The sensations he scattered through me were unfathomable. Especially once he got going and really let the reins out. His muscles flexed and bunched, his body a sensuous line of sex. He was built for this, hands down. The man knew how to fuck.
I fucked him back, grinding my hips and holding his magnetic gaze between greedy kisses. Our hips moved as one, skin slick with sweat, limbs entangled, and hands groping, caressing, loving.
I loved this.
I loved this with him.
“Slow down, slow down,” he whispered. “You’re going to come.” He pressed his lips against my blissful smile. “But not until I tell you.”
This was the man beneath the collar. He believed he was a monster. Maybe that was true when he was with other women. But he wasn’t like that with me.
A conversation loomed on the horizon that neither of us was ready to have. But right now, one thing was certain. He took me with every ounce of passion in his body, holding my gaze, kissing my mouth, gripping my throat, and grinding his hips. Magnus didn’t just make love to me. He made love to me harder than any man ever could.