Page 83 of Priestly Sins

Sirona:You missed lunch. You sure you’re okay?

Me:In the office. Not hungry. Find you in a bit.

Sirona:Okay, Sean. Let me know if you need anything.

I don’t respond. I need to figure out what I’m missing. How to protect my family and how to tell my gorgeous, generous, funny woman that I am why she’s not safe.

I continue my search of Bobby and Sherrilyn and see nothing that indicates he had any hand in this. And now I have to tell Sherrilyn that I’m responsible for her husband’s death too.

It’s one thing when it’s at my hand… with my knife… and I spill the blood.

But targeted for knowing me? That is untenable.

I leave the office and head to the master bath, strip, and flip the shower on to scalding hot water. I step under and curse, but eventually settle under the spray and let it beat on me. It feels like sandblasting today. If only it would strip away… what? My guilt? My anger? My past?

My fists are clenched and I’m letting the water scrape down my body when the door clicks open and closed. Sirona strips away her clothes, piling them on the counter one by one. She opens the glass door and steps in, reaching around me and turns the water down to normal temperature, and she reaches up on her tiptoes, wraps her hand around my neck, and holds my stare. I fall on her mouth, kissing her hard. I am giving and taking, and my hands slide around her body and pull her flush to me. My cock warms and twitches but I welcome it. It’s for her. She does this to me.

I bend over, drinking from her, wanting her, letting my hands roam to her ass and farther down still.

I slide my fingers into her, pulling out by curving my fingers and grazing her walls. I capture her moans, swallowing them. My fingers enter her until I squat just enough to lift her petite body and position her above my cock before impaling her. So tight, so hot, so wet.

And I thrust.

Her head falls back and I kiss her neck, bite her earlobe. I take her mouth again as I pulse into her body as quickly and as deeply as I can.

“Touch your clit, baby.”

“Too much, Sean. It’s too much.”

“Baby, touch your clit.”

“Sean!”

Before she can reach between us, she’s coming, sucking me in deep. A hot vise pulls at my cock.

“Baby, please touch your clit.”

She looks me dead in the eyes and reaches between us and when she does, I pump harder in a wild rhythm with my angry cock. Her face shows ecstasy and her hand loses purchase.

“Clit, baby. I’m going to come and I need you to rub your clit.”

She reaches between us again and the sensation of her fingers brushing my cock while she rubs her bud has me so fucking close. I hurry as if I’m rutting into her until she bursts again, and this time, she milks my orgasm out of me as her body wrings another from her.

“So,” she draws out the “oh,” “what brought on the whiskey? Only tasted that on you once before and that was—”

I can’t think of that time.

“Where’s Clara?”

“That’s one way to avoid the topic,” she deadpans.

“It’s important, love.”

“She’s watching movies.”

“After she’s asleep, I’ll tell you. Need your undivided attention and can’t risk her overhearing.” My words are rushed, coarse, and have little feeling.

Well, I certainly have her attention. And not in a good way.