Page 43 of Daddy's Sinner

Dove

Matheo groans as he licks his fingers clean of me, and it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Unlike the others, his touch doesn’t make me feel ashamed or dirty; it arouses me. It ignites a flood of sensations within me, some so intense and unfamiliar that they leave me breathless.

Leaning my body into his, I think of Zia once again, more and more, and her decision to run away. To leave Taos. But unlike her, I wouldn’t come back. Would he leave it all behind for me? I can still feel his hard cock against my ass, and I want nothing more than to consume every inch of him before I’m forced to deliver him peace.

I don’t want to; all I want is to paint and make love to him for the rest of my life. Matheo’s hands dig into the flesh of my thigh, and my head slumps against him. “What’s your favorite color?” I ask, not sure why, but I want to know. Like Matheo, I want to know everything about him. He has already told me so much, but I want more.

“Honey brown,” he replies. His voice is a low, sultry growl, the vibrations of it pulsating through me. The word hangs in the air between us, wrapped in sensuality and heightened by our closeness. “It used to be black until I saw the warmest eyes. Your eyes. Instantly, it became my favorite color.” His words are nearly a moan as his hand wraps around my throat and the other grips my hip. I roll my hips against his, eliciting a groan from both of us. His hand tightens around my throat, not in a threatening way, but in an intimate one that says he’s as desperate as I am. “Your skin,” he says, as he nips at my shoulder, “is like melted caramel, smooth and sweet.” His breath is warm against my skin, his words echoing in my ear. I shiver under his touch as he trails kisses down my shoulder. “I want your skin glistening with my cum, painted inred with sinner’s blood.” A gasp escapes my lips as his words paint a vivid picture in my mind. His hands begin to roam over my body, leaving trails of heat in their wake. His fingers trace my spine, the touch feather-light yet so intense that it sends shivers down to the pit of my stomach.

“I want you to paint me,” I gasp, my fingers sliding through his hair. His lips trace a path down my neck, along my shoulder, making me shiver with delight. His body is hard against mine, his erection pressing insistently into the small of my back. Matheo wraps his hand in my hair before putting me on all fours, my head right above the flowing water. My pussy clenches at the possibilities; I look over my shoulder and see it in his eyes: the malice, the hunger… the beauty.

“Matheo,” I whisper, my voice drowned out by the rushing water. The sight of him sends a primal thrill through me. His eyes flash dangerously as he slips his white shirt over his head. I made him dress comfortably before leaving the church, and fuck, was the view of him perfect. The scars that spread across his inked body tell a story of their own—a tale of survival, of pain, and most importantly, of resilience. His eyes hold a wild intensity as he lifts my dress and exposes my bare back to him. The scars left from the lashings I received as punishment make his nose flare, and his hand darts out to trace them. No counting.

He traces the scars one by one, like he’s reading braille. The touch sends shivers up my spine, every part of me hyper-aware of his proximity. His body radiates heat, and I can’t help but arch into him. “Who did this to you?”

“Past sins,” I whisper back, the words barely audible over the burbling water. I see a look of pain flashing in his eyes. He doesn’t apologize or offer words of comfort. Instead, he stands silent, his hand never leaving the scarred skin of my back.

“They’re not important,” I gasp out, my voice weak against the drumming of my heart. Matheo growls, his fingers tracing my scars with a gentleness that belies his anger. His eyes bore into mine, dark pools offury and passion. “Tell me,”He demands again, but I don’t budge; it doesn’t matter. We are both sinners, and we will both be punished. Right now, all I want is to feel him inside me. “Bless me, Father. Make me believe in you. Show me you’re my God.” I breathe as I bounce my ass on his hard cock. Matheo hisses as my skin brushes against his burning desire, his fingers scratching down my back.

His voice is a rough growl when he speaks. “Bless you, darling?” A wicked smile tugs at the corner of his lips, his eyes flickering with a dark flame. “Let me show you the power of your God.”

His hands descend to my hips, gripping with an intensity that sends a shiver up my spine. My pussy waters as he lines himself up at my entrance. I want him more than I’ve wanted anything before—maybe even more than the freedom I crave so desperately. Yet I know it’s something I shouldn’t want, something I can’t fully embrace. It’s ironic, isn’t it? But still, the words spill from my lips before I can stop them. “Show me how to live for you… to worship you, Matheo.”

Matheo’s response is a low rumble that vibrates through my body, a primal sound that makes my bones shudder. He doesn’t speak, just nods, his gaze dark with lust. His grip on my hips tightens as he guides me to him, settling the head of his cock right at my entrance.

“As you wish, my little sinner,” he breathes out, his husky voice sending bolts of anticipation through me.

Then, swifter than a prayer, he pushes into me. The sensation is all-consuming, his presence filling me entirely, but it doesn’t stop there. “First, I need to baptize you… live for me, little demon,” he says before submerging my head into the water and holding me there as he plunges slowly in and out of me. The world beneath the water is silent, muffled. I squirm, holding in every bit of air that I can. Soon, my lungs start to burn with the need for air, but Matheo’s grip on my hair is unyielding. He keeps me submerged, his other hand holding my hip in place as he continues to thrust into me. His hips circle as he dominates me, his rhythm steady, unrelenting. Each thrust brings us closer to the edge of our shared absolution.

“I’ll release you when you accept your new faith, my wicked angel,” he growls, his voice laced with an electrifying edge of danger. I can barely hear him over the water, but I know what he wants. Surrender. He wants me to surrender and worship him. With each passing second, the reality of my choices becomes clearer. His rhythm, his touch, and his faith all demand my submission. My vision blurs from the lack of oxygen, but within me, a flame ignites. A flame that burns with desire, defiance, and a primal need to live for him. So, I let go. I surrender when I feel him hit that spot, even as my lungs scream for air, I clench around his cock. The water muffles my moans as my body arches and writhes. His thrusts are slow but relentless, filling me with a pleasure that dances dangerously on the edge of pain. The world blurs around the edges as I’m overwhelmed by the sensation of Matheo inside me, and I surrender to him. To my devil. My arms go slack beneath the rising tide of pleasure that threatens to consume me whole. I can hardly remember why I fought against it in the first place; the pleasure, the pain, the baptism—it all melds into one ecstatic sensation threatening to shatter me.

“Breathe,” Matheo finally decides, pulling my head above the water. I do. But I don’t only breathe. I surrender, coming so hard that my vision whites out for a moment, my body convulsing from the intensity of it all. The air that fills my lungs is harsh and cold, but it brings with it a relief that is just as intense as the pleasure that still echoes through me. His body holds itself tightly against mine, his own release imminent.

I feel as if I’m born anew, born into a world where only Matheo and I exist. My body heaves, convulses, and shudders from the aftershocks of my orgasm. A gasping, ragged breath escapes my lips, echoing in the silence that has fallen over us.

“Good fucking goddess,” Matheo murmurs, his voice raw and stripped of all pretenses.

His hands clench on my hips, pulling me tight against him as he descends into his pleasure. Gone is the commanding demi-god, replaced by the man beneath. A man who has found his faith, his purpose in worshiping me. He’s not only my God now, but I am his goddess too.

His surrender to me is as raw and profound as mine has been to him.

He sits back on his ass, bringing me into him. I’m completely impaled by his thick cock, and my dress pools at my waist from gravity. His hands move up to my exposed tits as I ride him slowly, rolling my hips forward then back. He moans, his fingers digging into my hips, begging me for mercy, but I give him none. My breasts move with my movements, and his left hand leaves my breast to find my clit. “Come,” he rasps, his tone half command, half plea. His thumb circles me, frenetic and insistent. He matches the rhythm of my movements on him—slow, but never faltering.

“Matheo,” I sigh, a sharp gasp escaping my lips as he applies torturous pressure to the sensitive bud.

“Hmmm,” he hums in assent, his fingers tracing languid patterns that send chills down my spine. I tighten my thighs around him, pressing myself as close as I can. The Prophet wouldn’t like this at all, and I don’t care. Because I no longer belong to him… I no longer believe in him. There is only Matheo.

Matheo’s fingers get more insistent.

“Come,” he says. “Now, obey,” he adds, pinching my clit.

And I do.

The world shatters into bright shards of pleasure, an explosion of white-hot ecstasy ripping through me. My head tilts back, a scream tearing from my throat as I succumb to the breathtaking intensity of my climax. It’s as if he has pulled my very soul from my body, only to give itback in fragmented pieces of gold. I let pleasure consume me, trusting him to anchor me as I float adrift.

His chest shudders beneath me as he follows my descent into bliss. “My goddess,” Matheo gasps, surrendering to the ecstasy that crackles between us. His body tenses beneath me, and his cock twitches inside me. “Fuck,” I whimper as he drives himself deeper within me, drawing out my pleasure. His own release crashes over him moments later, and his body convulses beneath mine, completing the circle.

Sinner

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