Page 25 of Unholy Vows

Malachai

L ayla’s pussy was my new favorite meal.

My tongue slid between the slick folds of her cunt, and I swear I could have come from the taste of her alone.

She was intoxicatingly addictive, and I knew there would never be a time when I’d be satiated.

The thought surged through me like lightning, driving me forward.

My palm swept across the altar as I gripped the edge for support. My movements were quick and careless, knocking over any instrument in my path. A sharp clang rang out as the silver chalice toppled over, spilling the dark red wine over the cloth.

Despite the chaos surrounding us, I couldn’t take my eyes off the woman lying in front of me.

She was mine, and she proved it every time her body writhed beneath each swipe of my tongue.

“God, Malachai,” she panted.

I chuckled against her center, and Layla moaned as the vibration settled over her.

“Not God, Little Sinner. Just his favorite son.”

I drove my tongue inside her with renewed vigor, and Layla screamed in ecstasy, her fingers finding the short strands of my hair and tugging roughly.

Her movements jostled the altar, sending a candle teetering before it toppled. The flame faltered, wax spattering across the stone in a messy mirror of our desire. Layla’s ragged breaths filled the air, mingling with the faint trickle of wine as it wound its way to the floor.

Layla trembled, and her knees locked around my head.

She was close. I could feel it.

I flattened my tongue against her clit before sucking it into my mouth. Without breaking eye contact, I pushed one finger inside her, and then another. Her walls clamped down on the digits, pulling them into her body as she rubbed herself against my palm with abandon.

“Malachai… ahh… don’t stop… I’m… going to…” she panted.

“That’s it, baby, make yourself come. Ride my fucking fingers until you soak my hand.”

Layla cried out as a powerful shudder racked her frame. It took a moment for the small, involuntary aftershocks to dissipate, and when they did, Layla slumped against the altar, utterly spent.

She thought I was done with her.

How cute.

I pressed my palms into the stone altar as I lifted myself onto the structure. Layla’s unfocused gaze followed me as she tried to discern my intentions.

“Malachai,” she breathed as I moved over her, slow and deliberate.

The fragile thread of her resistance unraveled the closer I came, and she arched into me, her body pressing flush against mine. I planted a hand beside her head, my weight enclosing her, caging her in.

My free palm darted out to collar her throat, and I pulled her to me, my lips clashing with hers in a violent kiss. Layla clung to me like I was the only thing keeping her tethered to this plane as I ravaged her. The kiss was more demand than desire, all fire and no mercy.

When we broke apart, I gripped Layla’s hips and flipped her over so that she was on her hands and knees in front of me. Then, I retrieved the knife I kept at my hip and flicked the small blade open. The sharpened tip sliced through her blouse before doing the same to her bra.

My gaze traveled the length of her naked body.

She was completely exposed to me.

Bare and vulnerable.

I had an overwhelming urge to sink my teeth into every inch of her flesh, marking her as mine.

My property. My sinner. My woman.

Need burned in my veins, and I ripped my shirt over my head before undoing my pants. I gripped my cock in my hand and then lined myself up with her entrance.

We both groaned in satisfaction as I sank inside her.

Leaning down, I grabbed Layla by her throat and pulled her up until her back was pressed flush against my chest, my cock still sheathed in her pussy.

Layla’s pulse fluttered in her neck like a trapped bird, and her breathing stuttered, making something feral uncoil within me. I thrust my hips up, forcing Layla to take every inch of me as I set a relentless pace.

Her perfect round tits bounced up and down from my assault, and I drove myself inside her, faster, harder, deeper.

I sank my teeth into her shoulder hard enough to draw blood, savoring how her breath faltered. Not from fear — no, from the raw, electric tension that always simmered just beneath her skin whenever she was near me.

A low chuckle rumbled up my throat.

“You’re so needy, Little Sinner,” I taunted. “I can feel it in the way your body trembles and how your pussy is strangling my cock.”

Layla mumbled incoherently: part protest and part moan.

“Tell me how badly you need me.”

When Layla remained silent, I smacked my palm against her ass; the flesh instantly reddened.

Layla shrieked, but the sound quickly transformed into a sultry moan as I rolled her peaked nipple between my fingers and tugged hard.

“Say it,” I demanded.

“I need you, Malachai. I need you so fucking bad.”

“Good girl.” I leaned in close to her ear as I whispered, “Now remember that you begged for this. I don’t care if it hurts, I won’t stop.”

Wrapping both my hands around her throat, I slammed her down on my cock as I thrust up to meet her.

I wasn’t gentle or restrained.

I fucked Layla with a ruthlessness that surprised even me.

“I love the way you let me ruin you, Little Sinner. Bleed for me. Break for me. I’ll put you back together, piece by broken piece.”

Layla let out a choked cry, and I smiled viciously.

“Just like that.”

I angled my hips, driving myself so deep inside her she shattered in my hold.

“Fuck baby,” I growled. “Your cunt is fucking perfect.”

I tightened my grip on Layla’s throat as I chased my own release.

“You’re mine. Every breath, every sound you make, it all belongs to me.”

Layla whimpered, and I could feel her walls contracting, her body already racing towards another orgasm.

“No one gets to see you like this,” I snarled. “Only me. Only ever me.”

I ground my teeth together as I thrust upward.

One.

Two.

Three times.

And then I was coming. I filled Layla up, drenched her in my come, claiming her as my own.

I loosened my hold on Layla’s throat, and she coughed violently as she came undone, coating my cock in her arousal.

Panting hard and utterly spent, we collapsed on the altar, too exhausted to move another inch.

We lay like that for the longest moment, our chests heaving in sync with one another as we struggled to regulate our breathing.

“What’s that smell?” Layla asked, breaking the silence.

“What smell?”

“It smells like something’s burning.”

Layla sat up, surveying our surroundings. Her eyes widened in alarm, and she slapped my arm.

“The cloth is on fire!”

Layla shoved me toward the edge of the altar, and I glanced down to see the fallen candle resting against the corner of the fair linen.

“Fuck!”

I jumped down, but my pants caught around my ankles, and I went sailing towards the ground.

Layla’s panicked face filled my vision, and she thrust a goblet toward the fire.

In my post-orgasm haze, it took me a second to realize that she had doused the flames with the last remnants of the wine from the fallen chalice.

The fire roared higher, and Layla screamed, shielding her face from the intense heat.

“For fuck’s sake, Layla! You don’t pour alcohol onto a naked fucking flame.”

“The wine is alcoholic?” she said, sounding dumbfounded. “Don’t kids drink this shit?”

I ignored her question as I hurriedly fixed my pants and ran to where we kept the fire extinguisher. As I released the pin, I gripped the trigger and pointed the canister at the flames. White foam exploded from the nozzle as I drenched the altar.

Just as quickly as it had started, the blaze died out, and the church was silent once more.

I lifted my gaze to see Layla’s horrified expression. A tremble rolled through my shoulders, and before I could hold it back, my laughter burst free. Layla stared at me in shock for the briefest moment before dissolving into a fit of giggles.

“Well, I can tick that off the bucket list.”

“You had setting fire to a building while getting fucked hard on your bucket list?”

Layla only shrugged.

Our eyes locked, and then we both erupted in laughter once more.