Page 84 of Sinfully His

She needed to give in to the inevitable. Even her body knew it belonged to me. Why else would she have made that last left instead of a right? Had she just turned right, she would have been in the main chapel and there would have been nothing I could have done to her.

It would have been too public, too many people around. She would have been free. She had been down here enough to know that.

But she turned left. She turned left into the storage area under the church, a large section of the basement that was hardly ever used. It was barely lit by ambient light. I could just make out her form as she pushed herself further and further into the room. Making a mess the entire way. She even knocked over a candelabra that was, I think, from the 1400s, from Spain.

It was priceless, and she didn’t even look back as she knocked it over in her vain attempt to run. She was going to be punished for that, and I couldn’t wait.

“Rose, angel. All you’re doing is begging for the lick of my belt across your pert little ass. Get back over here and talk to me.”

“Fuck you,” she yelled, her voice a little further away than I had thought.

“You keep talking like that, I’m going to wash your mouth out with my cum.” I pushed myself further into the room, trying to follow the path of destruction without tripping over something. With the way my luck had been lately, I’d end up accidentally tripping over a long-forgotten glass case that held the foreskin of Jesus Christ himself.

Then my little angel took another left turn.

Proving yet again how much she wanted me.

Had she kept going straight, she would have run into a hallway that would have led her to the rectory and then to the exit to the back alley where I first found her. Instead, she turned left toward a back exit leading to a hidden memorial. A tiny little outdoor, open-air chapel that was rarely used. Still, one of the older priests went out there every single day to light candles in remembrance of those that were lost.

I caught her reflection in a mirror stored in the room we were in, her eyes wild, her lips parted as she took a deep breath and tried to figure out what she wanted to do. The way she was crouched down also gave me a delectable view down her dress. She could run all she wanted, but her nipples were taut, tight little peaks, pressing against her bra, begging for attention. I knew her pulse was racing, and it wasn’t from running. I could even just see the green of her eyes around her blown pupils.

My little angel was excited by the chase.

She wanted to be caught.

Who was I to turn her down?

I picked up a piece of wax that had broken off an older candelabra and threw it toward the opposite side of the room. Iwatched her face turn the direction of the noise, then she crept the other way. Creeping right into my trap.

The second she stood, ready to run, I stepped into her path and wrapped my hands around her, swinging her over my shoulder so her ass was high in the air. With one hand across the backs of her knees, my other hand started on her thigh and slid under her dress to her cotton-covered ass.

“Caught you.”

“Put me down,” she shrieked.

Instead, I carried her out to the little memorial, where I could see her clearly and we could actually have the discussion I demanded.

The sun had gone down a while ago, leaving the little hidden garden dark, all except for the dim, flickering light of the altar candles that weren’t quite burnt out yet. They let me see just enough.

I set her on her feet in front of me and she backed up, looking up at the sky, trying to figure out where she was. Hardly anyone knew about this place. It started as a garden, meant for the priest to grow the more… sacred herbs, and eventually was turned into a memorial for those who wished to grieve in private. The iron gate at her back led to a cemetery that was reserved only for priests and nuns of this church.

“You can’t—” Her chest was rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath.

“What can’t I do?” I asked, walking toward her slowly. I wanted her to feel exactly how trapped she was. The priest who had lit the flames this morning wouldn’t be back. Not until tomorrow. There was no reason. All the candles would burn out on their own, and in the morning, he would replace the altar cloths when he lit new candles.

I grabbed one of the silk ropes on a flagpole as I stepped even closer to her.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“You and I are going to have a conversation, but it seems every time I try to talk to you, you run away. I’m simply ensuring that won’t happen.” I grabbed her wrists and pressed them against the iron gate far above her head, tying her with the silk rope.

“Let me go.” She pulled at the rope, trying to get free.

“Not until you admit it. I want to hear the words from your lips.”

“Admit what?” she asked between clenched teeth.

“You need to admit what you feel for me, what you really feel for me.”

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