Page 25 of Sinfully His

“Good girl,” I said, stroking her hair before shoving my cock back in her face. “Now suck like your forgiveness and my silence depend on it, because they do.”

Like the good girl she wanted to be, she said nothing. She didn’t argue or ask questions or even beg. Her hands went back to my thighs, and she took my cock back down her throat and sucked, working her lips up and down my shaft, even her tongue knowing to massage the underside of my cock.

She was a little awkward at first, which told me she had never done this before, but she was a natural. It only took her a few passes to get used to how to relax her gag reflex and time her breathing between thrusts.

But this wasn’t supposed to be fun for her, this was supposed to be a punishment. The only people allowed to enjoy punishments were the ones dealing them out. I wrapped my hands in her hair, pulling tight enough that she winced and then I held her head in place as I thrust in her mouth.

To her credit, she still didn’t complain. She held on and took it like I knew she would. She relaxed into it, tilting her head alittle so my thrust went deeper down her throat, and one of her hands moved from my thigh to in between hers.

“Do not touch yourself,” I ordered. “No one touches that pussy but me. No one pleasures you or takes pleasure from you but me.”

Obediently, her hand went back to my thigh as I fucked her face even harder. Punishing her for even daring to think that she could touch herself anymore.

No, I needed her desperate. I needed her aching for me at all times and completely subservient.

“Look at me,” I growled when her eyes slid closed and immediately, they opened and I could see the desperation and need reflecting back at me.

My balls drew up close to my body as my orgasm neared and I was ready to spill my seed down her throat.

“I’m going to come,” I said. “Swallow.”

Her fingers tightened on my thighs, and when a single tear escaped from the corner of her eye and slid down her cheek, I came harder than I had in a very long time. My teeth gritted as I suppressed the need to yell out my orgasm, and I rode it out, fucking her face over and over until the waves of pleasure finally subsided.

Bless her, she never stopped sucking. I felt her swallow a few times, and she took as much as she could, but when I pulled my cock out of her mouth, there was a single line of my cum running down her chin.

I reached out to her face, gathering my cum with my thumb, and pushed it back between her lips. Without looking away, she sucked my thumb clean.

“Good girl,” I said, running my hand over her hair, and she leaned in, touch-starved and desperate for the praise.

She said nothing, her eyes going back down to the floor as she stood.

“Remember what I said.” I reached back under her skirt, and just as I suspected, her pussy was dripping wet, practically gushing. All it would take was a few thrusts of my fingers, or even strokes of my tongue, and she would come apart for me so beautifully. It was tempting. Her pussy would taste fantastic, but I had places to be, and I was already running late.

“Remember what I told you?” I asked.

“No one touches me but you, not even myself,” she said.

“Good girl. If you lie to me, or take what is mine, I’ll know.”

I circled her clit a few times, just to feel her legs shake, and then I let go and straightened her dress.

“Go get cleaned up before your mommy sees you like this,” I taunted. “I’ll see you at confession tomorrow.”

CHAPTER 12

THOMAS

Today was never going to fucking end.

I was unnerved by how much I enjoyed Rose’s mouth. It was hardly the first time I had gotten head. It wasn’t like I actually took any of my vows seriously.

Hell, seminary school had been the most thorough sex education a man could get.

If I was being objective about it, her mouth wasn’t the most skilled that had ever sucked my cock. That honor belonged to one of the bishop’s illegitimate daughters. But there was something different about Rose. She wasn’t like the whores and sluts who worked out their daddy issues on the cocks of priests. She wasn’t plastic like the other dolls of the Upper East Side. Nothing about her screamed fake or empty. She wasn’t on her knees trying to fill a void; she wanted to follow my orders.

She wanted to earn my praise.

Fuck, I didn’t know what made me want her, but it didn’t matter. I stuck to the plan, more or less. I held my shit together and made her feel what I needed her to feel. The seeds of desire, doubt, and anger were all sown exactly where I needed them to be.

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