Page 8 of Forgive Me Father For I Have Sinned…7 Times

“I know a wet pussy when I feel one, baby,” he snorted.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Baby?”

I nodded, breathless as he rubbed my clit with the rough pad of his thumb. It was slow and torturous, edging me slowly but not enough to make me come yet.

“Why not?”

“I don’t like it.”

“What do you like,baby?” I felt him smirk into the crook of my neck as his hand moved across my slit and toward my entrance. I gasped when he slipped a finger inside, going slowly at first until his entire finger disappeared inside me, and the palm of his hand slapped against my throbbing clit.

“I like it when my kidnapper isn’t touching me inappropriately,” I said, but the words came out around a moan.

“Oh, I’m not your kidnapper, baby.”

“If you’re not my kidnapper, what do you call this?” The sound of my squelching juices gave me away as he continued to thrust his fingers in and out of me.

“You came to us willingly.”

I froze. “Us?”

“Everything will make sense soon but right now, it’s just you and me, baby. Let’s enjoy it.” He slowly fucked me with his fingers, the delicious sensation making me slowly go delirious. “Look at us.” He moved his other hand up to cup my chin, forcing me to stare into the mirror in front of us. “Don’t we look good together?”

He moved his hand down and wrapped it around my neck. I gasped, but it was more from surprise than displeasure or fear. Especially not now that he’d slipped two more fingers inside of me and was fucking me harder than some guys had done with their cocks.

“Don’t we look together, baby?” He pressed a kiss under my ear, breathing nearly as heavily as me. “Answer me.”

“Yes,” I whispered, and my eyes fluttered shut when his hand that was wrapped around my neck slipped down to grope my boobs and pinch my nipples.

Between his mouth and tongue on my neck, one hand roaming my body and the other fucking my pussy, the pleasure became far too much for me to bear, and I came undone on him. My pussy clenched tightly on his fingers, but that didn’t stop him from fucking me with them to prolong my orgasm.

Did that just happen?

Did I just come on a stranger’s hand?

A stranger that was possibly my kidnapper?

“Stop,” I whined, squeezing my legs shut around his hand. “I’ve already come.”

“Don’t tell me the boys you’re with only get you off once.”

I didn’t answer. The truth was, some of them didn’t even get me off at all. Half the time, I edged myself before they put their cock in, or I had to make myself come after they did. I wouldn’t say my sex drive was overly high, but I had struggled to find people to match mine. Mostly, I corrupted little virgin Church boys with the promise of a good time. The thrill of it was exhilarating, but the actual delivery rarely lived up to expectations.

“Your silence is my answer.” He pressed a kiss to my shoulder and finally let me go.

The logical thing to do would have been to run and desperately search for the door. Or even try and hurt my kidnapper-slash-pleasure-giver to buy myself time, but I found myself just standing there, my legs still shaking and unable to take my eyes off him in the mirror.

He held my eyes with a small, triumphant smirk.

My body betrayed me when a warm flush spread throughout it, and even though I had just come on his fingers, my pussy tingled in a way that I had never felt before. Not even when reading the kinkiest, spiciest romance novel I owned.

“My name is Pride,” he grinned at me in the mirror and reached for the bottom of his shirt. “Remember it, baby, because you’ll be screaming it later.”

4

PRIDE

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