I could do this all night, but it seems Cora has a different plan because as soon as her body is clean, her hand moves quickly to my still throbbing erection, grasping the length in her hand and stroking. I nearly choke, shuddering as I pull away.
“Wait, wait, baby. Unless you want this next part to be over quickly, I would stop that.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
A laugh escapes my lips. “Don’t be sorry for touching my dick, Cora. I just want this to last a little longer and you already do things to me.”
“I do?” she asks, biting her lip.
That flirty little move has me groaning. When did she become so damn sexy? It’s not like Cora has changed, but it’s like I’m seeing her through new lenses. “Yes, baby,” I reply. “You wouldn’t believe the things you do to me.”
She has a mischievous look on her face, and I see a hint of that wild girl I first met. “I like doing things to you,” she whispers. “I want to do things to you.”
Tendrils of excitement run straight down my body and right to my cock. “Oh yeah?” I say. “Like what?”
Her cheeks turn a brighter shade of pink, and she tries to look away, but I pull her closer.
“Last night you put your mouth on me, and I kinda want to...you know.”
Sweet Lord. She wants to suck my cock. I can hardly stand, shaken by the overwhelming heat of the shower and my arousal at the same time. I can’t even answer.
“Can I?”
I reply with a laugh. “I couldn’t say no if I tried.” A sweet smile spreads across her face, and I lean down to kiss her again. I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy in my life. The peace and confidence I’ve been looking for my entire life has finally been found in this. In her. In us.
She looks so nervous as she slowly drops to her knees in front of me. I have my back to the showerhead, blocking her from the spray. When she takes my cock in her hand, I shudder again. She strokes it, slower this time.
Then, with her eyes on me, as if she’s looking for reassurance, she opens her mouth and lets her tongue hang over her bottom lip and rests the head of my dick over the soft, wet surface.
I watch, barely able to breathe as she plays with it. She kisses the head with her lips pursed. She runs her tongue along the underside, and then she swirls the head, making me see stars.
Finally, she opens her mouth wide and takes me as deep as she can before she instantly lets out a gag and pulls back. I nearly come from that alone, and it’s not easy holding it in.
“I don’t think I'm very good at this,” she says, looking discouraged.
“Baby, you're perfect.”
“I’ll get better with practice.” Then she takes me deep again, and I slap a hand against the tile wall to keep from falling over.
“Fuck,” I groan loudly.
“Was that good?” she asks, pulling my cock out of her mouth again.
I shut my eyes and nod. “Yes, yes, yes.”
So she does it again, and this time, she doesn’t withdraw right away, but keeps stroking, her tongue and lips so soft around my cock I can barely stop myself from coming down her throat. She’s not going very deep, but it doesn't matter; it’s enough to drive me crazy.
I manage to hold on for as long as I can, but when she relaxes enough to take me to the back of her throat, I snap. In a rush, I pull out of her grasp. I have to take a second to breathe and she’s staring up at me with wide eyes.
I have to be inside her—now.
Snatching her by the shoulders, I pull her up to stand and spin her quickly so she’s facing the wall. She lets out a gasp of shock, but then my cock is lined up with exactly where it wants to go. I don’t have it in me to be gentle right now; this little cunt is mine and I need to take it before I lose my fucking mind.
Using the saliva from her mouth as lube, I shove myself forcefully inside her. Her scream is beautiful, but it makes me pause, feeling like a monster. I should pull out, but I can’t. I just can’t.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry—”
“Don’t stop.” She gasps. “Fuck me, Roman.”
I don’t hesitate. Grabbing her by the hips, I do as she requested, and I slam into her again and again, so deep my balls slap against her flesh with each thrust.
If I go to hell for this, it will be worth it.
Everything is perfect—her needy cries, the way her fingers claw against the tile wall, and her perfect round ass shaking with each thrust.
“Yes!” she cries, and her body shudders with pleasure and her pussy walls tighten around me as I unload inside her.
We are left in the echoes of what we just did. It wasn’t just sex or love making. It was filthy, dirty fucking. And I loved every second of it.
After my balls are emptied and I can breathe again, I pull out and hold her against me. She spins until we are facing each other, and our mouths meet in a hungry crash.
“I love you,” I mumble against her lips. “I love you so fucking much.”
She makes a sound, and I don’t know if it’s a laugh or a cry, but she kisses me harder. “I love you, too.”
Chapter 14
Cora
After our shower, and probably the hottest moment of my life, Roman and I clean up and get dressed. He puts on a plain white T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. Luckily, I brought my duffel bag when we left the convent in the flurry of action, so I have clean clothes with me.
He pulls back the covers on his bed and we climb in together. I can hardly believe this is happening. I’m in Father Roman’s bed, in Father Roman’s apartment. Someone pinch me.
Just then I notice the Christmas tree in his apartment. It’s not large, but perfect for his small space. There are gold and red round ornaments scattered around it and it’s draped with tinsel.
“Your Christmas tree isn’t lit,” I say, noting the dark tree.
“Oh,” he says, walking over and flipping the switch at the bottom. The dark room glows with soft light as he walks over to climb into bed next to me.
“I love Christmas,” I mumble as he pulls me against his chest. I curl my body around him, overcome by the instant sensation of comfort and safety. I really shouldn’t have a care in the world while I’m wrapped in his arms, but I do. I have a gnawing discomfort in my belly.
“Me too,” he replies, but there isn’t an ounce of worry in his tone. He is completely at ease. How can he be so carefree right now? With the consequences we have to face now, he should be anything but relaxed.
“Roman,” I whisper, as I try to pull away from his hold. He doesn’t let me—instead, he holds me tighter. “We have to talk.”
“No, we don’t. It’s Christmas. Let’s talk tomorrow.”
“I need to get this off my chest,” I reply.
With that, he releases me, and I perch myself up on one bent elbow. All of a sudden, the words get caught in my throat. How can I possibly say what I know I need to say right now? After the last few perfect hours with him, what kind of idiot would utter the words that could ruin it?
“I meant what I said in the shower,” I say to start.
“Me too,” he replies, leaning up to kiss me on the lips. It’s a quick kiss, but it’s the casualness of it that I love.