Page 86
Story: Broken
It’s painful not to be able to cry out, not to be able to shriek the glory of how he makes me feel, what he’s forcing me to experience.
I didn’t expect him to do this to me.
I thought the first time would be shameful for him, that he’d have sex with me in the shadow of night, under blankets and covers, and then roll away, abashed.
But he isn’t unwilling.
He’s not the priest right now. He’s the sin eater, and he’s eatingme.
I almost melt into him as I’m bombarded with so many sensations, I don’t know where to turn. Then, a finger slips inside me, and that’s it.
Game over.
How I don’t scream, I’ve no idea.
It throbs in my throat until I feel like I’m suffocating, and for a few seconds, maybe I’m choking on air because the need to release all these wonderfully chaotic feelings is overwhelming me. I want to tear at my skin to release the sensation to the world. I want to cry and sob and?—
But then, just as this welter of emotion overtakes me,consumesme, it’s ratcheted up another level until I feel like I can fly for real.
When the orgasm slams into me, I crumble with the detonation. My bones melt and my body turns to goo. I flop into the wall, and still, he eats at me like he’s ravenous for my soul, and God help me, but I hope he is because I need to experience this again and again and again.
I can feel the crucifix knocking into my face, the cold gilt burning me for my sins, and I turn my face aside, but not enough. It digs into my cheek no matter which way I move my head.
A keening sound is torn from me as I’m forced up themountto bliss once more, but he stops the second I make that noise, and I tense as the realization I fucked up hits me square in the heart.
His fingers dig into my butt, hard enough to mark, but I like the pain. I love that he’ll have marked me.
Out of nowhere, I’m pushed off him, and just as I fear he’s going to storm away, I’m thrown onto his lap. One of his legs swoops over both of mine, and his hand comes down on my butt.
He delivers sharp, hard slaps that have me squirming on his knee. Nine in total, each harder than the last. Then, he leans in, takes some of my flesh between his teeth, and bites—hard enough to make me squeal.
I almost choke on my tongue, but when he moves his leg, changing my position so only one of mine is held captive by his, I’m not surprised that he spears me on two digits, scissoring them wide, and with his other hand, spanks me once more.
The cold, hard slaps, the thrust of his fingers, it’s nothing like I thought my first time would be, and while there are tears in my eyes, they’re from happiness.
Each spank triggers a sweet release that has me creaming around his fingers.
Each hard thrust makes me squirm and rock back into his punishment.
I did the crime. I’ll more than gladly do the time.
When he pulls out then taps my clit, I barely refrain from groaning. I shudder instead, forcing the pleasure back inside me until my muscles turn to goo once more.
As another orgasm rips through me, I have no place to go, nowhere I’d rather be than impaled on a part of him.
When I fall lax, limp on his lap, his fingers, wet from my juices, drift over my butt and to my back.
They trace my wings, triggering a bone-deep shiver, the skin puckering with goose bumps, making me arch my spine, needing to move as that delicate touch forces me to respond.
When I’ve stopped panting, he rights me, propping me up so I’m sitting on his lap. Then, he twists me to straddle his thighs, and I spread my legs, shuddering when his cock nudges my pussy.
His hands snag mine as he moves them behind my back, holding my wrists together with one of his, restraining me like he read my mind.
How I want toworshiphim.
How I want to touch everything that’s been denied to me for so long—his heart, his body, and, more importantly, his soul.
CHAPTER 25
I didn’t expect him to do this to me.
I thought the first time would be shameful for him, that he’d have sex with me in the shadow of night, under blankets and covers, and then roll away, abashed.
But he isn’t unwilling.
He’s not the priest right now. He’s the sin eater, and he’s eatingme.
I almost melt into him as I’m bombarded with so many sensations, I don’t know where to turn. Then, a finger slips inside me, and that’s it.
Game over.
How I don’t scream, I’ve no idea.
It throbs in my throat until I feel like I’m suffocating, and for a few seconds, maybe I’m choking on air because the need to release all these wonderfully chaotic feelings is overwhelming me. I want to tear at my skin to release the sensation to the world. I want to cry and sob and?—
But then, just as this welter of emotion overtakes me,consumesme, it’s ratcheted up another level until I feel like I can fly for real.
When the orgasm slams into me, I crumble with the detonation. My bones melt and my body turns to goo. I flop into the wall, and still, he eats at me like he’s ravenous for my soul, and God help me, but I hope he is because I need to experience this again and again and again.
I can feel the crucifix knocking into my face, the cold gilt burning me for my sins, and I turn my face aside, but not enough. It digs into my cheek no matter which way I move my head.
A keening sound is torn from me as I’m forced up themountto bliss once more, but he stops the second I make that noise, and I tense as the realization I fucked up hits me square in the heart.
His fingers dig into my butt, hard enough to mark, but I like the pain. I love that he’ll have marked me.
Out of nowhere, I’m pushed off him, and just as I fear he’s going to storm away, I’m thrown onto his lap. One of his legs swoops over both of mine, and his hand comes down on my butt.
He delivers sharp, hard slaps that have me squirming on his knee. Nine in total, each harder than the last. Then, he leans in, takes some of my flesh between his teeth, and bites—hard enough to make me squeal.
I almost choke on my tongue, but when he moves his leg, changing my position so only one of mine is held captive by his, I’m not surprised that he spears me on two digits, scissoring them wide, and with his other hand, spanks me once more.
The cold, hard slaps, the thrust of his fingers, it’s nothing like I thought my first time would be, and while there are tears in my eyes, they’re from happiness.
Each spank triggers a sweet release that has me creaming around his fingers.
Each hard thrust makes me squirm and rock back into his punishment.
I did the crime. I’ll more than gladly do the time.
When he pulls out then taps my clit, I barely refrain from groaning. I shudder instead, forcing the pleasure back inside me until my muscles turn to goo once more.
As another orgasm rips through me, I have no place to go, nowhere I’d rather be than impaled on a part of him.
When I fall lax, limp on his lap, his fingers, wet from my juices, drift over my butt and to my back.
They trace my wings, triggering a bone-deep shiver, the skin puckering with goose bumps, making me arch my spine, needing to move as that delicate touch forces me to respond.
When I’ve stopped panting, he rights me, propping me up so I’m sitting on his lap. Then, he twists me to straddle his thighs, and I spread my legs, shuddering when his cock nudges my pussy.
His hands snag mine as he moves them behind my back, holding my wrists together with one of his, restraining me like he read my mind.
How I want toworshiphim.
How I want to touch everything that’s been denied to me for so long—his heart, his body, and, more importantly, his soul.
CHAPTER 25
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