Page 60 of Priestly Sins

I let her go and warm up my coffee as I hear, “Poppa!” called from the living room.

“You look great in those pajamas,” I say as I pass her on my way out of the kitchen and rub my hand over her ass, giving it a light tap, following the sound of Clara’s continuing conversation.

* * *

By breakfast time,Clara has on the Christmas dress she wore to mass last night. By lunchtime, she’s passed out on the sofa.

I grab Sirona’s hand and tug her down the hall and into my bedroom. I close the door behind us, but don’t lock it. A four-year-old with free rein of the house and no parental supervision spells trouble, regardless of where in the world you are.

Sirona won’t meet my gaze, so I gently grasp her chin and use my thumb to lift it. “It’s later.”

I slide my hand around her jaw and tug her neck toward my face. I drop my mouth but pause before I kiss her, searching her eyes. “Yeah?” I ask, needing to know she’s okay with this. She swallows and nods and lifts to her toes, meeting me as I take her mouth. She grabs my neck and comes at me like she’s as hungry as I am.

My hands slide down the sides of her breasts and she shivers. I cup their weight over her pajamas and run my thumbs over her budding nipples. Their hardness and attention spur me on. So do her noises.

I break the kiss, trail my mouth down her neck to her collarbone, toward her cleavage. This height difference is cramping my style. I put my hands under her butt and lift her. She wraps her legs around my waist, putting her heat at my growing cock.

I drop my mouth to her chest, pulling a nipple into my mouth through the flannel.

Walking to the bed, I lay her down and follow. I rock my hips into hers. “I want you,” I say holding her eyes. She nods but still says nothing.

I pull back enough to unbutton her top, opening it wide, and suck in a breath. “You’re beautiful, Sirona. Fucking waited so long for you, baby.” I lean over her tit and suck hard while my thumb and forefinger rub her other nipple into a harder peak. I switch to it and let my left hand drift to her waistband.

“So fucking long, baby. Gone without longer than any man should. But you…. so fucking tempting, did me in, baby.” She doesn’t flinch, and since she won’t talk to me, I can only read her body language. When she wriggles beneath my palm, I look into her eyes as I dip my hand into her panties and feel her bare. I know she sees the flare of surprise in my eyes as I stroke her. I go lower and lower still until I feel her slit, hot and wet and wanting.

“So worth it. You were so worth the wait.”

She gyrates her hips and I slide one finger, followed by a second, into her tight wetness. I watch her face, see the ecstasy, hear her moans. Her rocking on my hand is fucking beautiful. It’s been so long; I’ll never make it through this without embarrassing myself.

I hold her eyes as I kiss her chastely and trail down her neck and chest. She rises up to meet me as I run my tongue over one breast and then the other, all the while moving my fingers in and curling, letting my thumb tease that sweet, hard nub.

I let my hands leave her, just enough to tug her flannels and panties over her hips and return my hand to tease the juncture of her thighs, that slick opening, her desperate clit. With my other, I butterfly her knee and work my way back to her center.

I trail kisses down to her belly and the scar lower than that, Clara’s scar, if I had to guess. And then her mound.

And, because I can’t wait any longer and I might die if I don’t taste her, I dip my head and lap at her juices. I growl when I finally taste her. “I was right. You’re delicious... everywhere.” I reach in deep with my tongue while my hands drop underneath her, lifting her to me, holding her to my mouth. I make my way to her clit nub and flick it, not gently, but pull away as she writhes beneath me, moaning.

When my fingers plunge inside her, I suck deep and she calls “Sean!” followed by something unintelligible. I suck and plunge, pulling with my fingers and lips, riding out her orgasm.

I don’t stop. Needing more. More of her taste, more of her pants and moans, more of her pleasure. Her second orgasm barrels through her right after the first and the “O” of her mouth and her noises are enough to almost make me come.

I climb up her body and free my throbbing cock from my pants, dipping it into her juices. Just as the wet heat hits my tip, the doorknob turns and we both freeze.

In my greatest athletic maneuver ever, I manage to yank up my pants, throw the blankets over Sirona, and belly flop next to her on my painfully swollen cock. I feign a snore that’s really a groan, just as the door pushes open.

“Mommy? Mommy, it’s snowing! Can we play in the snow?”

I fake another light snore and lift my head whispering, “Clara, love, Mommy’s asleep. Go get your boots and coat and I’ll meet you at the back door. That work?”

And it must because she flies down the hall, giggling and talking about snow.

I rub my face in the pillow and mutter, “God, I love her, but her timing is utter shit.” I look to Sirona.

She stares dumbfounded.

“What, baby? And please don’t say it wasn’t good. I gave you some of my best moves and, if I’m not mistaken—and I’m not—you came twice.”

“You love her?”