Lessons in Sin by Pam Godwin

CHAPTER 26

MAGNUS

Ilasted five days.

Five days of no touching. No kissing. No naked Tinsley.

She continued to earn punishments every day, which amounted to after-school detention with me and a Bible.

Her tardies and disrespectful mouth had become part of our routine. She gave me reasons to discipline her, and I used those punishments to make it impossible for her to participate in off-campus activities.

Since the Winter Formal, she hadn’t seen Tucker Kensington, and I would keep it that way by monopolizing her time.

Was I controlling? Absolutely.

Was I wrong to keep her close? Debatable.

We’d confirmed the validity of the Kensington-Constantine merger. It wasn’t public information, but she had her sources, and I had mine. When she’d called her mother, Caroline didn’t deny it. Tinsley was expected to marry Tucker, and I was ready to commit mass murder over it.

On the fifth day, after the final bell rang and my classroom cleared out, she sat in the front row and stared at nothing across the room.

“Ask me what your correction will be today.” I stood from my desk.

“More Bible readings.” She growled her displeasure.

“No.”

“What?”

“Ask me.”

“I don’t care.” She held my gaze, and her chest hitched with a resigned breath. “Fine. What cruel and unusual punishment will I be enduring today, Father Magnus?”

“I’m glad you asked.” I paced to the door and angled my head so that I could watch her as I turned the lock.

Click.

She stiffened.

My skin heated. “You’re going to scrub the floors.”

The sound of her sharp inhale surged blood to my cock.

“We’ve been here before,” she murmured. “We can’t do it again.”

“No, Tinsley. We definitely have not been where we’re going today.”

“What do you mean?”

“On your feet.” I prowled toward her, relishing her beautifully flushed cheeks.

Arousal looked so fucking delicious on her.

She pushed to stand and faced me with her shoulders squared. I expected nothing less from this sublime woman.

“We should skip this.” Her eyes watched me, sharp and unflinching. “We can just imagine it. Pretend that I make my usual sexy, intelligent retorts. You make your unintelligent gorilla sounds. I roll my eyes. You spank me, and we both go back to our sad little rooms in physical pain, bereft and aching, because let’s face it…” She lowered her voice, frustration written in her features. “Three months of foreplay isn’t fun, Magnus. It’s agony.”

“Remove your underwear.”

“Where’s the bloody pair that you never returned?”

“Clean and safely stored in its new home beneath my pillow.”

She floated into my space, her hands and chest sliding up my torso, her toes stretching, mouth reaching, hunting for mine. “You’re such a creeper.”

“Only for you.” I angled my lips away, denying her. I brushed my nose against hers once, twice, teasing her. Then I stepped back and held out my hand, mastering her. “I gave you an order.”

Her shoulders lowered, and her gaze hooded. Acceptance. Surrender. Desire.

Everything about Tinsley was a tantalizing, kinky, forbidden slow burn. I didn’t even need to touch her, and I felt like I was having the best sex of my life.

This was no longer about keeping my vows. Those had been razed to the ground the night I’d met her. The night she’d ravaged my mind, consumed my prayers, and made a home inside my cold, dead heart.

“I’m only doing this because I’m bored.” She slowly reached beneath her skirt and slipped the pink satin underwear down her legs, staring into my eyes the whole damn time. “Also, every girl knows that when a well-proportioned, powerfully built, humanlike creature—who could possibly be mistaken as a man—asks for her panties, she should just hand them over. Resistance is futile.”

Her pouty lip whitened beneath the press of her teeth as she flung the underwear at me.

I caught the scrap of satin and tucked it into my pocket.

“I’m still on my period.” She arched a brow.

“Remove the tampon.” I held out my hand again, palm up.

“You’re serious.”

“Deadly.”

“We can’t…” She sneaked a look at the door, her voice an urgent hush. “We can’t have sex. Especially not here.”

“What we can and cannot do is my concern. Your only responsibility is following my order and giving me access to your pussy.”

She could refuse me. There was always that possibility, and I would accept her rejection without retaliation. I’d been very clear with her on that point.

I was nothing like her mother. I would never force her into something for my own personal gain. But it didn’t hurt to remind her.

“Say no, and nothing changes.” I kept my hand extended between us. “You mean more to me than all the money and sex in the world.”

“Magnus…”

“You hold all the power between us. You always have.”

“I know.” She rested her small hand on my larger one. “There’s no tampon. I’m not bleeding anymore. Does that disappoint you?”

My heart thudded heavily as I closed my fingers around hers and yanked her against my chest.

“There are other ways to make you leak.” Slowly, sensually, I reached beneath her skirt and teased the soft flesh between her legs.

Fighting the impulse to bury my fingers, I played with the entrance of her cunt, circled it, stroked it, and within seconds, felt the slick gush of her arousal soaking my hand.

To sink my cock inside this glorious, sacred part of her would be the honor of a lifetime. It was the one line I refused to let myself cross. I’d already taken too many liberties with her, broken too many laws. But I shouldn’t take her virginity. I didn’t deserve it.

“You know where the cleaning supplies are.” I released her, returned to my desk, and opened the laptop.

Her hands went to her hips, her expression fevered with hunger and frustration.

She thought I was the one punishing her all these months, but she was the one with the claws and teeth and shackles on me. If she strutted over here and sat on my cock, I would feed it to her, every inch, in any hole she wanted it.

I would go to prison for her.

I would bleed for her.

I wondered if there was anything I wouldn’t do for her, and that thought was a torment in and of itself.

She had the power to level my world.

For the next hour, she scrubbed the floor on hands and knees in her schoolgirl uniform. Halfway through, she’d subtly, casually, inched her skirt up her back, exposing her gorgeous, heart-shaped ass.

“Demeaning bullshit.” She crawled past my chair, every word out of her mouth making me hard as a rock. “Chauvinistic pervert.”

Moving along on all fours, she arched her bare cheeks in the air, giving me a direct view of the glistening wetness between her thighs.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed the freak flag you’re flying in your pants.” She smirked at me over her shoulder. “Kind of hard to miss.”

She crawled around the corner, out of sight, leaving me aching, throbbing, gripping the armrest to keep from pulling my cock out and jerking off.

I couldn’t bear it. Not another second of this torture.

My feet were already moving, my steps rounding the desk. Huge blue eyes in a delicately elven face watched me approach. Shimmery white-blonde hair cascaded down her slender back. A pink tongue peeked out, wetting plush lips, and my damn heart rammed against my rib cage.

“Stand up.” I didn’t wait for her to obey.

With a fist in her hair, I hauled her to her feet and bent her over my desk, ass up.

“Oh God.” She whimpered, her breath bursting in wispy bits and pieces. “I want this, but I don’t want you to resent me. Your vows…”

Priests broke their vows every day. They only lost their jobs if they got caught.

I kept this to myself as I kicked her feet apart and gripped her thighs. Angling her hips to thrust up and out, I bent down and buried my face.

With my teeth against her sexy, toned backside, I gave her sharp bites of pain intermixed with languid, swirling kisses. She squirmed and writhed as I worked my way toward her center.

When my tongue reached her greedy, wet pussy, she lifted on her toes, flattened on her heels, and released tatters of sound meant only for me.

I ravished her untried flesh, my nose buried in her ass crack and the heavenly scent of her intoxicating my senses. With each pass along her swollen slit, my tongue ventured deeper, more aggressively into her hot clasp, twisting and flicking and making her moan.

She tasted like innocence and sin, temptation and ruination, and I couldn’t stop eating, sucking, and imbibing her like an addict whose only thought was to consume and indulge and seize the moment.

“Please.” She thrashed on my desk, her hands clawing through my papers, her body convulsing, shaking, aching to come.

I edged her toward orgasm, and right before the peak, I ripped her away from the fall. Over and over, I brought her there, surfing right up to the cusp, teasing, peaking, and teetering on that razored edge. With frantic need pulsing beneath her skin and pooling between her legs, I stopped, leaned back, waited for it.

“Please,” she whispered, trembling, rocking, panting. “Magnus, please, fuck me. Let me come. Put me out of my misery, damn you.”

Music to my ears.

For the next hour, I showed her how a sadist made a woman beg.

I taught her my lessons in sin.

“I hate you.” She lay facedown on my desk in a puddle of shivery, horny desperation. “Please, please, please. I beg you. I’ll do anything.”

Leaning forward, I stretched over her back and rested my brow against her spine. With two fingers still buried in her cunt, I groaned at the feel of her clenching, spasming, so hot and needy.

She hadn’t come. Not once since we started. But she was about to explode, and it was going to be the best fucking orgasm she ever experienced.

I twisted my wrist, running my fingers along her deliciously drenched flesh to circle her clit. My other hand lowered my fly.

The sound of the zipper had her craning her neck, but she couldn’t see my erection. I pulled it out beneath the edge of the desk and fisted the unwieldy length.

I’d never been this hard. It didn’t even feel like my cock. It was a goddamn steel bat encased in fire.

As I rubbed and massaged her clit, she reached back and clutched my ass. Her nails sank into the skin above my slipping waistband. Pinpricks of heat where her passionate fingers held me became jolts of electricity surging straight to my groin, thick and molten.

With my thighs pressed against the backs of hers, one hand working her pussy, and my other stroking the length of my cock, I pressed my forehead against her spine and marked the crescendo of her sounds.

Frenzied breaths. Guttural moans. Strangled pleasure. She was there, tensing, shaking violently. Then she buried her mouth in the bend of her arm and silently roared her release.

My throat closed around a gasp as I squeezed the crown of my shaft and sank my fingers to the root, roughly, erratically, coming with her, swallowing my groans, and jetting across her clean floor.

As we caught our breaths, I tucked myself away and pulled her into my arms. Then I kissed her slowly, softly, basking in the feel of her loose, satisfied limbs and contented sighs.

“You need to finish the floors.” I bit at her lip. “You have a mess to clean up.”

Perched on my desk with her arms and legs twined about my body, she peered down at the stripes of come on the floor between my shoes.

She hummed happily and returned her lips to mine. Her fingers snaked through my hair as my tongue took lazy strolls through her mouth.

Borrowing time.

Stealing moments.

Until a knock sounded on the door.

My pulse spiked.

Tinsley shoved away and dropped to the floor, frantically reaching for the bucket. Another impatient knock came as I crossed the room and opened the door.

“Hi, Father Magnus.” Nevada smiled flirtatiously, holding a laptop and twirling her hair. “Are you…?” She bent her neck to see around me. “Oh.”

I followed her gaze to Tinsley, who was scrubbing my come off the floor.

It was wrong. Immoral. Illegal.

But it didn’t feel wrong.

Nothing had ever felt so right.

“I need help with today’s calculus assignment,” Nevada purred, making my skin crawl.

I didn’t want to help her. I didn’t want to do this job. Right now, all I wanted was my golden angel spread across my desk and screaming my name.

“Come in.” I motioned at the front row. “I’ll be right with you.”