Page 32 of Sinfully His

“No, I?—”

“Did he at least eat your pussy until you screamed his name?”

She didn’t answer, but her eyes darting to the floor told me enough.

“So then, what makes you think it’s love? What makes you think that this gardener, with his tiny dick, can ever keep you happy? Why would you give everything up for a man that you clearly don’t love and who can’t satisfy you?”

“I didn’t say he couldn’t?—”

“Actually, you did. You said it when you opened your legs for me and let me pet you. If you loved him, you would have never let me that close. You said it again when you got on your knees like a good girl and sucked my cock like your life depended on it. You can lie to yourself all you want, but if you loved him, you wouldn’t have even come here.”

“I—no, that’s not?—”

She was stammering again, still backing away from me, nearing the back of the church. I pushed her along toward the confessional, letting her think she might have gotten away from me while driving her deeper into the trap.

I hated I wasn’t the first man to fuck her, but maybe there were some advantages to her not being a virgin.

If her innocence had already been taken, even by a small-dicked little gardener, then that opened up far more opportunities. I didn’t have to be gentle with her. Seducing her would not take nearly as much time because she wasn’t innocent. Did I even have to go for seduction?

Or could I just bend her over and fuck her? I intended to guide her slowly to my bed, leading her to think she loved me, that I loved her, and then being so sweet while I destroyed her reputation. But it seemed like none of that was needed, so maybe I could just bend her over and take my frustrations out on her tight little body.

“So tell me, little pet. Why are you here?”

“To tell you that what happened before can’t happen again.” She took a step out of the last pew and a few more steps back. She hit the wooden door of the confessional booth.

“Is that so? I have a phone, you could have sent a text message,” I pointed out. “Or are you here to play with me? Did you want to see the look on my face when you told me that your pleasure already belonged to another man? Were you here to tell me that not only had you lured me from my vows with sins of the flesh, but you also made me a thief?”

With her back to the confessional door, there was nowhere for her to go. I stepped up to her, pressing my body to hers, bracing my arms on either side of her head, caging her in.

Her gorgeous emerald eyes were wide with fear and panic, her lush pink lips opening and closing while she searched for something to say.

“Careful, little angel, keep opening and closing those lips like that and I’m going to give you something to wrap them around,” I whispered against the delicate skin of her neck.

She could deny me all she wanted, but I saw the way her pupils dilated, the way her skin tightened and her lips parted on a gasp.

She wanted this; she wanted me. More importantly, I took what I wanted.

I brushed my thumb over her bottom lip, pressing it into her mouth, and no matter what she said, her lips still latched on as she licked at my thumb.

“You’ve been a very bad girl,” I said. “Do you know what happens to bad girls?”

She shook her head, my thumb still between her lips.

“They seek forgiveness in the confessional. By confessing their sins and atoning for them, they get washed clean.” I ran my thumb down her chin to her neck, and over the buttons of her light-pink trench coat.

“Do you want to be forgiven?” I asked, my fingers untying the belt at her waist.

“Yes, please,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Do you want to be my good girl again? My little angel?”

“But… I told you I have?—”

“You have a sinful relationship with a man who can’t even pleasure you properly. A man who doesn’t know how to take care of you, who leaves you aching and touch-starved and probably does not know what he’s doing.”

I slipped my hand in her coat, her dress underneath made of a silky chiffon-type material that no doubt hung off her curves, giving just a hint of her shape underneath. My hand traveled up from her waist over her dress to her breast, where I squeezed gently, pinching her nipple between my thumb and finger.

Her lips opened on a gasp. I took them, claimed them as my own as I gave her a deep, aching kiss.

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