The Priest (The Original Sinners #9) - Tiffany Reisz Page 0,27
as he moved on top of her. He took her wrists in his hands and held them hard into the bed. It hurt, and she groaned in her pleasure at the pain.
S?ren still hadn’t kissed her on the mouth. She would have begged for it if she’d been allowed to speak. He hadn’t given her permission, so she suffered in silence as he pounded into her. Absolute torture that she couldn’t tell him how good his big thick cock felt in her pussy, how much she’d missed him, how she’d fantasized about this moment when they were together again.
Since she couldn’t speak with words, she let her body tell him everything he needed to know. Nora lifted her hips, pushing them into him, taking every inch of him until she couldn’t take anymore. It was all she could do, lying helpless on the bed, held down by his impossibly strong hands on her wrists. But she wasn’t completely helpless…
She contracted her vagina around his cock as hard as she could. He gasped, and she grinned, triumphant. A short-lived triumph. He released her wrists, dug his hands into her hair and held her immobile underneath. His thrusts were vicious, stabbing, and split her wide open. She felt his hot breath on her shoulder.
“I missed your cunt,” he breathed into her ear. Nora gasped again. A month without a word from him, and that was the first thing he said to her?
Terrible man. She adored every inch of his wicked body.
He held her down and fucked her. Maybe they’d make love later. Maybe it would be tender and sweet—as tender and sweet as any sadist could make love—but she needed fucked first, and he needed to fuck her. Nora lifted her hips faster, pumping them with her heels dug into the bed until she was almost out of her mind with need. S?ren reached between their bodies, found her clitoris, and stroked it with wet fingers. She stiffened, back arched, breasts pressed to his chest, and came with a near-silent grunt in the back of her throat.
She came around him in a thousand sharp contractions. Lost in her own pleasure, she barely noticed when he dug his fingers into the back of her neck, held her head to his chest, and came inside her. Only when he lowered her gently back down and pulled out of her did she feel the rush of hot semen on her thighs pouring onto the bed.
S?ren lay with her, leg over her hip, every inch of his long body pressed close to her.
“I’ll take your blindfold off now,” he said, “but you have to promise not to laugh.”
“Laugh at what?” she asked, and he answered by taking off her blindfold.
She raised a hand to S?ren’s face and stroked his brand-new blond and gray beard. She didn’t laugh, but she did smile.
“I like it.”
Chapter Ten
For the second time that day, Nora found herself giving a beautiful man a neck massage. She straddled S?ren’s lower back and dug her hands deep into the muscles of his neck and shoulders. He released a small groan of pleasure.
“You missed more than my cunt, I guess,” she said.
He grinned, laughed softly. “I did,” he said. “But especially that.”
“Do I want to know what you’ve been doing for the past month?” She ran her fingers through his hair. It needed cutting, but wasn’t quite out of control yet. She decided he looked like a well-groomed Viking with the beard and the longer hair.
“Riding. Thinking. Trying not to think.”
“Did you play with anyone?”
“That is between me and Vegas.”
He laughed and rolled over. She let him. Instead of straddling his back, she straddled his stomach. The bright streetlights of the French Quarter shone into the room. She could see his face, his eyes, his smile. She bent and kissed him, then rubbed her cheek against his cheek.
“Mmm…abrasion play,” she said. “I could get used to this.”
He wrapped his arms around her and dragged her down to his chest. She was content to just lay there a good long while…until she remembered how mad she was at him.
Nora sat up again on his stomach and pointed her finger down at her face.
“Why did you leave us?” she demanded. “Kingsley’s been a wreck. I’ve been a wreck. Even Juliette’s been worried.”
“I sent postcards.”
“Yes. Blank ones.”
“I didn’t know what to write.” He sounded almost sorry. Almost. “Just know every card meant ‘I love you, I miss you, this is where you can find me.’”