Beauty and the Blitz (34 page)

The soft brush of her tongue licked the icing from me. Her mouth was warm, silken, and utterly forbidden.

I shuddered, imagining more than just my fingers between her lips. The velvet fullness enveloped me. She sucked to my first knuckle, completely devoted to her task. She offered me the briefest thrill, the darkest passion, and the most sensual experience of my life.

Her tongue stroked my skin as though she worshiped every inch of me.

This was sin. This was beautiful. This was
agony
.

I pulled away, my body wracked in disappointed pain. Honor swallowed the cake, and the smallest bit of icing dabbed her lip. I stopped her before she licked it.

My turn to taste.

I leaned close and flicked my tongue against her lip. The sweetness of the chocolate had nothing on the delicious pleasure of her kiss.

Chocolate depravity.

I forced her thighs apart so I could slip closer against her. I drew her nearer to my body, and her chest pressed against me. With a heavenly murmur, Honor welcomed me within her mouth as our tongues swirled in sweet discovery.

Her dress slipped up, settling above her knee.

My hands trembled, so near her smooth heated skin. She wanted my touch, and her whimper cascaded shivers through me. The sensation tightened at the base of my spine before aching in the places I long banished as sin.

My cock throbbed. Strained against the pants.

The wine rested near us. I broke the kiss with Honor to hold the wineglass—my chalice—before her.

The symbolism was not lost on my angel.

I tipped the wine as the glass touched her lips. She stared at me as she took the smallest sip. Her quiet, timid,
reverent
swallow stirred something almost sinister in me.

I tipped the glass again, accidentally spilling the wine. She gasped, but I was there, leaning in to capture the precious droplets in a kiss. The dry punch of the wine blended the dark sweetness of the cake with her natural, addictive flavor. The contrast enthralled me.

Honor trembled, her hands at her sides, eyes lowering as though she feared how high her dress had crept upon the perfect swell of her thighs.

My cassock did not belong so near the softness of a virgin’s flesh—of
any
flesh. I was fit, muscular, and she was forced to spread her legs wide to allow me this close. I drifted near her sacred, special place.

The holy of holies.

The sin of all sins.

“What else tempts you, my angel?” My voice turned to gravel, a raw and rumbled prayer for her honesty. “I want to know what desires control you.”

She pressed against me. I feared I’d be scalded in the heat trapped between us.

“
Everything
tempts me, Father. I can’t sleep at night. I can’t think. Every day I lose myself in thoughts of you.”

If only my lust was sated with words of her desire. “Have you fought these thoughts?”

“Yes.” Her voice hardened, as though she’d prove her faith to me then and there. But my angel was a more delicate and complex creature than that. “But it hurts. I live in constant agony. I wake in the middle of the night and I’m so…” She licked her lips. “Maybe I
should
bind my hands when I sleep.”

The thought hardened me more. I leaned close, my forehead on hers. We breathed each other, and my silent prayers tasted of her, chocolate, and rich wine.

“Do not fear your desire,” I whispered.

“I can’t let myself indulge it. I can’t go over that edge.”

“Do you fear losing yourself to lust?”

“Don’t you?”

Every minute of every day. The difference was, I knew my limitations. I understood my temptations.

Honor did not.

And it was my responsibility, my only purpose in this life, to give her that confidence.

“Let me prove how strong you are.” My fingers might have trembled had they not grasped her knee with such demand. “I know you have the strength to resist.”

I teased her leg, and the velvet darkness of her skin forever shrouded my mind in sin.

Her breathing caught as the tips of my fingers slid beneath the hem of her dress. The material bunched up, up,
up
, exposing the most intimate and hidden and
beautiful
of her secrets.

She breathed too fast, too hard. Her body stiffened as the pink hint of her panties was exposed to me.

The crest of her legs—the perfect sin—the hallowed hollow of her virtue.

Hidden from view with a pair of thin, cotton panties.

“Father…” Honor warned me.

“Sex is about power.” This lesson was the most important. “Power over ourselves…and power over each other.”

Honor sighed as I brushed higher on her thigh. I held my breath as I gently stroked the softness hidden from my sight by those sinfully pink panties.

And here I thought red was the color of debauchery.

Honor arched as my finger pressed over her core. She gasped. I hated that I was forced to choose between studying her parted lips or the crest of her legs where all my immoral decisions hid.

“Look at how easily your body responds, Honor. You quiver. You flinch. You
groan
.”

I had no doubt of my control over her, but I feared her dominion over me. She mewed as my fingers stroked a natural and raw heat. It beckoned me close, demanded I submit to my urges, to her lovely and delicate release.

And I might have.

The challenge was real. Hard. Painful.

And that was why I chose to fight it.

“Lust binds your soul,” I whispered, my finger moving in a constant and steady pace. I imagined what wetted beneath, dampening her panties. “If you surrender, you’ll lose yourself. Is a momentary pleasure worth the destruction of your virtue? Would you willingly submit to this primal violation?”

Honor shook her head. “You’re wrong, Father. Sex isn’t that…destructive.”

“No?”

I stroked harder, faster, capturing the little nub that swelled as I teased her. Honor bit her lip, and I longed to cause that sharp sting myself.

“Sex is an animalistic intrusion,” I said. “It’s power and strength exerted upon another. Even now, simply touching you, I
control
you. I’m stronger than you, bigger than you, more powerful than you. I can manipulate you with a single flick of my finger.”

Her body bucked. She swallowed a whimper.

“Fight me,” I urged her. “Don’t lose yourself.”

Her hips wiggled. She pinched her eyes closed, gritting her teeth. I didn’t slow my motions. I tortured her in delight with the steady pulse of a man dominating a woman’s most vulnerable secret.

Honor edged away.

I didn’t let her escape. I leaned over her, whispering as her body trembled for me.

“Why does this desire exist if it’s not meant to dominate? You are nothing but prey to me, Honor. This is primitive. Sadistic.”

And still it
pleasured
her. Too much. Honor grasped my hand, struggling for relief. She sweated, twisting from the unrelenting pressure on her core.

One flick, one little movement, and I’d possess her forever.

“Fight your desire,” I whispered. “Fight me. Deny yourself that release, my angel. You have nothing to fear from the lust you can
control
.”

I wasn’t cruel. I tormented her for only five more seconds.

She tensed, and her teeth clenched against a whispered breath. Her agonized beauty pleased me, even more as she tried so desperately to fight. I memorized how she looked, how she strained.

Her head fell back.

“
Father
…”

I pulled away before it was too late. Honor nearly fell from the counter. She grasped the cabinets to steady herself as she sweated, groaned, and attempted to hide her panties from me.

“
Good
.” I praised her, brushing my fingers along her cheek. “Drink your wine. Relax.”

Honor refused. She stared at me, defiant.

“You think this is all a game of power and submission,” she said. “It’s
not
. My body will respond to that sort of…touching, whether it is at your hand or if someone wants to prove their love to me.”

“You’re naïve.”

“So are you, Father.” She shuddered again. “I don’t think anyone could resist those feelings. It’s not submission, it’s…
biology
.”

“But you did resist. You were strong.” I let my voice soften with praise. “You have the power to control this desire, Honor. To refuse that animalistic sin.”

She shuddered, and I longed to capture each trembling breath in a kiss.

“It’s hard. It…hurts.”

“You’re strong, my angel. And it’s time to prove it.”

Honor knew what I wanted, but she shook her head. “It’s dangerous, Father.”

“Only if you can’t deny it.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Do you think you’d fail?”

The words stirred her more than my touch. My little angel…a born competitor.

She gathered the hem of her dress, bunching it in her fingers. Just like my cassock, her dress had shielded her, protected her in modest virtue.

And so we removed it.

Nothing would separate her from her own resolve, her own strength.

The dress fell to the floor, and she hid her body with a cautious hand.

No bra. Only panties.

And they were lost too, pulled away and down, rolled over the goose bumped crest of her thighs.

I hadn’t seen a naked woman before, not in the flesh.

She was more beautiful than I imagined. Curves of darkness. Swells of femininity. Honor covered her body with graceful arms, but her breathing shuttered, jiggling the perfect surge of her breasts. A dark nipple, pebble hard and temptingly hidden, practically glistened. What a rich, chocolate tease.

“Can
you
resist, Father?” she whispered.

“I have no choice.”

Honor breathed deeply as she moved her arm. She revealed herself to me. Every secret, every fold, every deliciously sinful and heavenly beautiful innocence that the Lord had created.

I studied her, from her quivering lips, the graceful slope of her shoulders, the taut and aching tightness of her nipples…

The slim waistline and perfect navel…

The flare of her hips.

And her spread thighs, legs on either side of me, exposing the beautiful, slickened, dark petals that called to me for another touch, a taste, a moment of unrepentant sin.

But this wasn’t my challenge.

This was the beginning of her newfound strength.

“You are stronger than your lust,” I said.

Honor nodded, her words soft. “I know, Father.”

“My brave angel.”

I touched her then, my flesh against hers. She slickened for me, so wet and hot. I feared I’d be lost within that very same temptation which weakened her body for the mounting it craved.

She trembled for me. I stared into her eyes while my fingers teased and prodded within the molten velvet of that forbidden pleasure.

Her jaw immediately tightened, and her breath held. Every strike of my fingers, every little tease of my hand cupped those perfect folds and drove her higher, harder, weaker against my touch.

I’d never felt such…
softness
. I stroked her petals, delighting in how silken her body melted. Even this inexperienced virgin, betrayed by her need and the lusts of the man controlling her, instinctively wetted for sin. Every curve of her flesh and sensual swelling of her slit directed my fingers low, to the slickness of her entrance.

Where we’d lose both our souls in a moment of rutted perfection.

“Father…it’s hard to…”

Honor could no longer speak. Her delight hurt me as well. My cock throbbed, hardened within the beautiful vulgarity of her exposed body. Her stomach tensed, undulating with every flinch of her suffering body.

She fought the pleasure.

Her body ached, arched, wetted.

Offered for me.

She almost faltered. Her breath caught, and my fingers pinched the nub which controlled her every gasp.

Her eyes closed, and she sweated. Twisted.

Begged.

“Oh, God…” Her soft cry pleaded such a beautiful song. “Need to stop…”

Higher, higher. More and more. Such glorious resistance deserved praise.

And such beautiful agony deserved the destruction of both our souls.

I pulled from her slit as her voice trembled too much. She cried out as my hand left that sanctifying heat.

I panted my own breath, filled with the warmth, the slickness, and the delicious scent of her.

My thoughts turned to sin—darkness, sweetness, and wine. Honor struggled to hide herself again, but I had yet to memorize every forbidden curve of her body.

“You’re cruel,” she whispered.

“And you’re stronger than you believed.”

The cake waited for us. I picked another piece within my fingers, pinched tight, just as if I offered her the Host.

She accidentally shivered, a shock of pleasure that stole her breath. The cake crumbled and fell upon own chocolate skin.

It beckoned me.

Perverse. Lovely.

I lowered to her chest, devouring the cake.

“This is my body…” I whispered to her.

She murmured the words. “Given for you.”

A dark, devious sin twisted in our hearts. I reached for the goblet of wine. She waited, believing I’d offer it to her.

I didn’t.

I dripped the chilled wine over her heated body. Honor moaned. She arched into the coolness of the wine, and it trailed over her beautiful curves.

This was the blood I drank.

I loomed over her, using my tongue to lap the dry wine from her delicious skin. The wine trickled faster than I could drink. I chased, lower and lower, until it consecrated the perfect petals between her legs.

The shadow of temptation riled me. It pumped my cock and strained my body in sweated resistance against everything my collar represented.

I tipped the glass.

The splash of wine centered over her perfect slit, exposed and wanting for more than the brush of my fingers against that virtuous, damning core.

I closed my mouth over the drips of wine, catching each beaded chill as they rolled over the plumpness of her swollen petals.