“Keep talking,” Liam said, planting a damp kiss on the inside of her thigh. Elise’s head was swimming, mostly from holding her breath for, what seemed like, ever. Liam had been waiting for her at her front door when she came home from her unimpressive date, a cocky move, even for him. He hadn’t even considered the idea that she would bring the guy home.
“I-I was just stressing about the wedding but…” Elise gasped. Liam had buried his tongue into her once more, drinking her in a beastly fashion.
“‘But’?” He stopped again to ask. He continued planting wet kisses on her thighs.
“I just hate rushing. I feel like everything is going to go wrong,” Elise said, slipping from her peaceful state.
“Good thing you don’t have to worry about that right now.”Continue reading
I let him roll up the joints we shared, allowed him to feel the sticky green and taste the honey flavored papers on his tongue. His fingers were deft at tucking and twisting, his lips wrapping along the seal. The drinks would always flow, until we were blurry from the cognac and the laughter suffocated the room. I granted him access to my body, relented my control so that he could bend me over and bury himself inside of me. I rose and I fell with him. He wallowed in the murk with me. He sated his deviance within me. I was at his bend and beckon. I was his relief, his private island away from the man he was supposed to be.
I would visit the church often. I would sit in the back, away from the prying eyes of the parishioners and I would behold him, tall and commanding, his coal black skin commanding the audience beneath him. The women were under his trance as he spoke, waves of glistening bosoms and pressed thighs before him. Any one of them would discard her chastity for a moment on her knees for him. He would see me and his voice would soften, momentarily, as he tried to collect himself and block out the memories of nights he spent within my garden. His flock would gasp if they knew the filthy things he whispered in my ears. His fiancé would be devastated to learn of his twisted yearnings.
I knew he would be at my door when he saw me. I made him wait on the nights I wanted to be ravished. At times, I felt as though my skin was burn and melt from the fire that burned within his belly. In a moment, he was wrapped around me, urging the heat between us to spread and consume us both. He kissed me slowly, puckering and sucking the air over my skin, igniting the goosebumps beneath my flesh. He undressed me, fingers and lips and tongue hovering above my tenderness. Before he even began, I was heaving, ready to pitch headfirst into him, ready to turn myself over and sate his desire. I knew I could not have all of him. A part of him would always belong to God, belong to the flock left in his care. He would always try to go to Heaven, always send whispers to his Father for forgiveness and strength. I knew there would be a wedding, children, a life away from me. Every visit was his last, until the sin returned to swallow me whole.