Page 74 of Priestly Sins

It says that Sirona Dugas vanished off the face of the earth, leaving everything behind including her car, business, apartment, and phone andpoof!—gone. She had five one-way tickets to Stateside airports. Customs search shows she never landed anywhere.

How Killian pulled that shit off, I’ll never know, but I’m grateful.

I fall into a fitful sleep with vivid red dreams of cackling, maniacal laughs and bug-eyed villains.

I wake with Sirona’s mouth on my cock. She hates when I buck into her mouth so I use all my available concentration to hold my thighs stiff and just soak in the pleasure, coming out of my tortured nightmares and into the best of all living dreams.

She’s sucking hard, moving quickly. Her typical finesse isn’t there, but sucking me off doesn’t require it. It’s good and I’m enjoying the fuck out of it so much that I shove my fist into my mouth and bite down to stop my moans.

It’s a desperate blow job and as soon as I feel the tears on my thighs, I slide my hands under Sirona’s arm pits and tug her up my body.

“Baby? Baby, what’s wrong?”

She falls on my mouth, fighting to be closer. I sit up and gently pull her away, trying to get to the bottom of what’s going on.

Her tears come and she lifts from her knees near mine and climbs over me, straddling me and takes my cock, guiding me inside, and sinks down. She doesn’t move or lift herself off, she just rocks.

I’m seated deep and surrounded by her, but confused at the turn in this moment.

“Sirona, baby. Need you to talk to me.” I brush her hair back and look into her eyes.

Her forehead meets mine and she rocks, breathing in my exhales and holding my neck as if it’s a lifeline.

“Baby?”

Her reply sends me reeling.

“If something happens to me, I want you to take care of Clara. Promise me, Sean. I need to know she’ll be safe. I need to know you’ll protect her and love her and—”

That sentence is never finished because I kiss her deeply and lay her onto her back, never losing our connection. I make love to her, hard and driving, looking into her eyes the whole time.

We never say another word through our lovemaking, but the connection is deep and moving.

When we’re done, I turn her in my arms, spoon in behind her, and wrap my arms around her torso. I’ve surrounded her, giving her the protection she so desperately needs.

“Is there any reason I can’t adopt her?”

Sirona’s body goes stiff and she curls in on herself, sobbing quiet tears.

“Baby?”

She shakes her head.

“Oh.” The rejection from her denial cuts me like a blade, gutting me.

When my silence lingers too long, she rolls in my arms and takes in my face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Sad that she can’t be mine. At least legally. She is mine in every way that counts, but legally…” I trail off.

“Why can’t she be?”

“You just said no.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You shook your head and I thought…”