Page 7 of Forgive Me Father For I Have Sinned…7 Times

“Such a filthy mouth for a good little girl.” His smirk widened, and he bowed his head to bury his face in the crook of my neck, pressing a wet, open-mouthed kiss there.

My clit throbbed almost painfully, and I squirmed in his hold.

This was not the time to get turned on!

“I don’t know who you are or what you want from me, but I don’t have any money. If this is about money, you’ve got the wrong person.”

His arms tightened around me, and he propped his chin on my shoulder. “I don’t want your money, Miriam.”

My breath hitched, and my body stilled as I stared back at him in the mirror, but his eyes were trained on himself with an appreciative glint in them. I watched as his eyes raked over himself, growing darker as he took in more.

Was this man checking himself out?

“How do you know my name?” I asked, and my question snapped his attention back to me. His hungry gaze ran down my body, over my full breasts and rosy, pebbled nipples. His eyes only grew more appreciative as he took in more of me, lingering on the mound between my legs where I faintly smelt a waft of desire. If I could smell myself, then so could he.

I had never been self-conscious about being naked in front of a member of the opposite sex before, but this man was drop-dead gorgeous and far more good-looking than any boy I had ever slept with.

“I know a lot of things about you, Miriam,” he murmured in a low, husky voice.

“How did I get here?”

“I think you already know.” He trailed kisses down my neck and shoulder, leaving tingles in his wake and doing sinful, unspeakable things to my body. I tried to pull away again, but there was no point. He was simply too strong, and his hold unrelenting.

“I don’t know.” I hated how raspy my voice sounded, giving away his effect on me. I hated his smirk against my skin even more.

“You do.”

“I don’t,” I insisted.

He didn’t acknowledge me with a response this time.

“Please, let me go,” I begged and pushed on his arms in an attempt to free myself, but it was no use. He was far too strong. If anything, his hold tightened, making it even harder to escape him.

My captor quirked a perfectly arched eyebrow at me. “And why would I do that?”

“Because I can’t possibly have anything that you want.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.”

“What do you mean?” I dared to ask.

“I want this.” One arm dropped from around my waist to cup my pussy, his palm brushing against my clit. My face grew hot when I felt my desire drip onto his hand.

I cursed my traitorous body for the betrayal.

I prayed the man wouldn’t notice, but when he moved his hand back and forth, rubbing against my throbbing clit in the most delicious way, I knew he knew. There was no way he didn’t know when I was practically dry-humping his hand at this point.

This was so wrong on so many levels. I had no idea who this man was, but he was somehow involved in my kidnapping. My body shouldn’t be reacting this way to him, yet I felt myself grow continuously slick and wet between my legs, my pussy throbbing and weeping for him.

“I don’t want you to touch me,” I protested, but my voice was shaky as he played with my pussy. “Please don’t touch me. Please let me go.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” I answered in an airy voice.

“Your pussy is wet.”

“I’m not wet. It’s discharge,” I lied.

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