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Feeling him deep inside her walls took her breath away. Every time he rocked himself into her deeper, she would grit out a slew of curse words while throwing her head back in ecstasy. Grabbing ahold of her hands, he stopped them from scratching up his back. He laced her fingers between his before holding her hands above her head. As his hips pivoted into her at the same rhythm, he nestled his head into the crook of her neck, moaning and whispering sweet nothings close to her ear.

A thin layer of sweat had now coated their bodies as they collided. Priest made sure to hit her spot with each stroke he delivered. Seeing her face morph into passionate love faces only turned him on more. Whimpers streamed out of her as she desperately tried to free her hands from the grip he had on them while holding them above her head. Her deep brown orbs glistened with tears as her makeup began to smudge. The once flawless application of foundation was stained with trails of tears that cascaded down her face, while her eyeliner now shaded underneath her eyes. Britain was sure she looked like a fool at the moment, but Priest couldn't have cared less.

Priest was fucking her so good, and as much as she wanted it to last forever, she just couldn't take it. Her efforts to squirm away from him failed miserably as he quickly released his grip on her hands to secure her curvy hips in place. "Don't run from me,Gioia," his husky voice strummed through her ears as he continued to glide into her.

A heavy breath and groan emitted from him as she clenched her walls around his veiny dick. "Fuck!" Priest heaved out as his evenly cut fingernails sank into the smooth skin of her waist.

Britain felt herself near her climax. Her back arched from the bed as he picked up the pace of his strokes. Now, his skin collided with hers loudly as he rammed his dick into her wet pussy. Ear piercing screams roared out of Britain as she felt her legs tremble. Priest reached down, rubbing her swollen clitwith his thumb. She didn't stand a chance at lasting any longer. Before she knew it, her creamy cum pooled out of her, coating his dick.

Her orgasm only intensified as Priest continued to roughly rock his hips into hers while rubbing her clit to reach his own climax. Soon after, he howled out a string of grunts as he busted his warm nut into her pussy.

He crashed down beside her, occupying the space on the bed. Their chests rose and fell heavily in unison as he tiredly tossed his arm around Britain's waist to hold her close. Making eye contact with one another, they couldn't contain the urge to just convulse into full stomach-wrenching laughter. This was another sense of happiness they were feeling. They were in a good space and lacked worries. This was what bliss felt like.

"You want to go again?" She grinned as her fingers traced over the tattoos that canvased his chest.

Priest peered down at her with an amused smirk etched on his face. "Is that even a question,Gioia?" he scoffed.

Britain laughed as she rose from the bed to straddle his lap. "I love the energy,Reverend," she teased as she positioned herself to slide down his thick shaft with ease.

Priest bit down on his bottom lip, feeling the same sense of relief he felt before when he was deep inside her. He sent a striking smack to her ass, evoking a moan out of her. "Do your thing,Paris.This dick is all you," he encouraged her with a smirk.

TWO DAYS LATER

As the driver eased the car to a smooth stop, Priest wasted no time getting out before making his way around to assist Britain out. As much as they were enjoying their time in Ibiza, they hadto check back into reality and make their way to Italy. They were dreading the two-hour flight they had to endure; however, they would much rather this flight than the six-hour long flight from New York to Ibiza.

Britain wasn't a snobby woman; however, she was enjoying flying private. It took the hassle out of traveling, and she knew she would have to get used to it soon because it was becoming her new normal. Her Hermes sandals made contact with the cement as she exited the vehicle hand in hand with Priest. A set of dark tinted Dior frames guarded her eyes from the early morning sun, and she was dressed in a long white form-fitting sundress. Her hair had been defeated by Priest and his sex driven hair pulling, so instead of pressing it out bone straight, she gathered it in a low-hanging ponytail.

Priest rested his hand on her rear while they made their way to board the private jet. "This was fun while it lasted," he sighed lightly as he plopped down in a seat.

Britain's bottom lip curled into a pout as she lifted the shade from a nearby window to gaze out of it. "Could we come back soon?" she asked.

Priest chuckled as he nodded his head. "Of course, Gioia. It's only two hours away," he reminded her and shrugged his shoulders.

"That sounded so rich and luxurious," she teased him with a laugh.

Priest reached out to her while he laughed as well. "You're about to be my rich and luxurious wife. You'll be talking like that soon." He waved her off.

Britain grinned as she took a seat on his lap. "Can I run up your AMEX black card?" she asked jokingly with a raise of her brow.

"You can do whatever, Gioia,” he confirmed and smirked while shrugging his broad shoulders nonchalantly.

Britain wrapped her arms around him, laughter still filtering out of her. "You're so cute," she gushed as she leaned in to kiss his lips. Priest knew Britain was all jokes. She was a frugal person and was not afraid to admit it. His purchases and lifestyle were beyond her, and she never hesitated to tell him that there was a far less expensive way of living. He found her amusing, though. It wasn't like he was spending money wildly. He just enjoyed the fruits of his labor and made sure the people at his table did as well.

After a few more minutes, the flight attendant informed them that they were set to take off and Britain needed to forfeit her seat on Priest's lap and secure herself in a seatbelt in a nearby seat. In no time, the jet glided off the runway before soaring into the skies with an ample amount of turbulence. Priest rested his hand on Britain's thigh to comfort her through her nervousness of the turbulence. He knew how on edge she would get about flying. Once they bypassed the turbulence, Britain opened her eyes, and a relieved sigh aired out of her.

Priest eyed her as she dug into her purse to retrieve her phone. The two made a pact to turn off their devices for the rest of their stay in Ibiza until they got on the plane to Italy. Britain was far more pressed to turn her device back on since she was anticipating contact from her mother. She nervously nibbled on her bottom lip as the device powered on.

"Stop tripping," he said to her, hoping to calm her nerves.

"I don't like disappointment," she admitted with slouched shoulders.

Priest nodded his head, understanding Britain. "Worst case scenario, you missed her call."

"Or I didn't get a call at all," Britain corrected him and rolled her eyes.

"We don't put negativity in the air, remember?”

Britain huffed out an annoyed breath before refocusing her attention to her phone. Various notifications rolled in, catching her up to the current time. To her dismay, Britain received absolutely no call or text from Seven. She rolled her eyes deeply before tossing the phone aside. Priest sighed as he reached over, grabbing the phone for himself. He bypassed the lock screen with his face, taking a look at her missed calls.