Billionaire’s Sins by L. Steele

17

Ava

The tendons of his throat flex, his brow draws down, he closes his eyes, and a groan rumbles up his massive chest as he comes, shooting white streams of cum across my face. He continues to pump himself, the muscles of his forearms flexing, his biceps tensing as he seems to come and come across my mouth, my cheeks, my hair. I’m decorated in Edward, and hell, if it isn’t the most erotic situation I’ve ever found myself in.

His chest heaves, his shoulders bunch, he lowers his head, opens his eyes and fixes those brilliant brown eyes on me.

My breath catches. Jesus… No…no…no, I can’t be calling to Jesus, not when I am here in His House. But honestly, there is no better word I can use to encapsulate just how hot this guy is. Edward, I mean. The hot priest who glares down at me like he hates me. His gaze burns into me, like he…feels so much more for me. All the unbidden, unwanted, unseen, unheard carnal desires that I’ve harbored since I saw Edward on screen… The vampire, I mean, this time. Though Edward, the priest, is far sexier, bigger, taller, more present, more real, more vibrating with pent-up frustration, more ripped, more tatted up, more hurt… There’s something hot and hungry and sad inside of him that makes me want to gather his head close to my bosom and cradle him there. A final burst of ropy white cum snakes across my face. I flick out my tongue and lick it up.

He draws in a sharp inhale. Then leans down, scoops up some of the liquid from my cheeks and holds it to my lips. I open my mouth and lock my lips around his digits and lick it clean. He continues to feed me his cum and I eat it from his fingertips like the starving, filthy girl that I am. Then he rubs the remaining fluid into my cheeks. I swallow, squeeze my thighs together. Why is that so hot, so filthy…so incredibly demeaning, but dirty as all hell and so, so sexy?

He drags his thumb across my lower lip, then leans down to nip on it.

I shudder.

He leans back, wraps his fingers around the back of my neck and I shiver. His every action is so intense, so…so dominant, and he’s barely done anything to me yet. I’d been right. The moment he’d taken off the persona worn to the world, I’d met a completely different side of him… A part of him that could completely consume me with his intensity.

A pulse tics at his temple, his shoulders bunch, and the planes of his chest seem to ripple with an unseen tension.

How long had it been since he’d last come? Did he allow himself to masturbate? Probably not; not someone as dedicated as Edward. So why had he chosen to break his vow of chastity, and with me?

I open my mouth to ask him, but he shakes his head as he pulls me to my feet. He tips up my chin, leans over me, then presses his lips to mine. He swipes his tongue inside my mouth, tangles his tongue with mine, tilts his head, deepens the kiss, sucks on my tongue until it feels like he’s consuming me completely.

Heat flushes my skin, the blood thumps at my temples, my toes curl, and my fingers itch to touch him, but I lock them into fists.

When he finally draws away, both of us are panting. He stares into my eyes, "Forgive me," he mutters, "for what I am going to do to you."

"You can do anything you want."

"That’s what I am afraid of."

"I’m not," I retort.

His lips kick up. "How can you be so perfect?" He rakes his gaze across my features. "So gorgeous, so completely flawless?"

"I am not," I protest.

"You are, where it counts, Eve."

"And where is that?"

He places his palm over my left breast. "Your soul, your heart… You have this innate goodness in you, something you were born with, something I have been searching for all my life."

"And you found it…" I glance about the space, "here?"

"And here." He taps the space above my heart. "Your beauty shines through, a mirror to the world, an innocence that declares itself unafraid of anything that comes your way."

"Except you." I swallow. "I am scared, Edward."

"Of what?"

"Of this, what is between us...this which is so new, so wrong, so illicit."

"And it is the most difficult thing I have done in my entire life."

"What?"

"Open myself to you." He lowers his head until his nose bumps mine. "You make me realize that I am not perfect. That I was wrong in thinking I have accomplished so much, when really, I am only getting started."

I take in his gaze, the color on his cheeks, the slight twitch in his left eyebrow. "I… I don’t understand."

"You will, in good time." He steps back, tucks himself inside his pants, then bends his knees and sweeps me up in his arms.

I gasp, "Edward… What—?"

"Shh." He strides out of the booth, up the aisle, and retraces his steps from the last journey we’d made just a few hours ago when he’d carried me in from the accident.

"This is getting to be a habit, you carrying me."

"Let me carry your weight, while I can."

I frown. "What do you mean by that?"

"Just that I used you, now let me take care of you."

"How? By doing more of the same, I hope."

He chuckles. "You, Miss Ava—what’s your surname?" He frowns. "I can’t believe I’ve never asked you that."

"It’s Erikson, and maybe because you were otherwise occupied?"

"There is that, Ms. Erikson." He nods. "When I am with you, nothing else matters. Not your name or mine. We may as well as be two lights headed on a collision course with each other, with nothing able to get between us."

"Ha, you’re also a poet?"

"Only when I’m with you."

"And when you’re with Him?"

He stiffens, glances down at me. "With whom?" He frowns. "Who are you talking about."

I blink. "I meant the One Above, the One who is in competition for your affections.”

"Not after this." His jaw tics. "I’m afraid I’ve fallen from His good graces."

"Isn’t the Lord meant to forgive as well?"

He tilts his head. "But can I forgive myself?"

He stares straight ahead as he stalks out the back door of the church, down the path that leads to his cottage. He reaches the structure, shoulders open the door again, then walks past the living room, into the bedroom. He places me down on the bed.

He straightens and I grab at his sleeve. "Don’t go."

"I’ll be right back."

"No." I swallow. "No." My heart hammers against my ribcage. My scalp itches and my skin feels too tight for the rest of me. "Edward, please." I tighten my grip on him. "I’ve only just gotten you; I don’t want to lose you."

His forehead furrows. "You’ll never lose me, Eve, don’t you see? Whatever is here between us is too strong for anything mortal to come between us."

"And what if…it’s not mortal? What if it’s some force we can’t control, what then?" What the hell am I saying? Where is this irrational fear coming from? He’s only just taken that crucial step toward me. Hell, he broke his vows for me… Something I’m still not sure how I feel about—so why am I clinging to him like a weak, helpless woman? Which I am not… No way.

He places his hand over mine. "I’m only going to get you some water. I promise, I’ll be right back."

I nod, release him, watch as he prowls away, long-legged, powerful muscles of his thighs flexing under the fabric of his pants, the muscles of his tight arse coiling and uncoiling with ever step he takes. I swallow, sit up in the bed, and pull up my knees so I can rest my chin on them.

He walks out and I turn my attention to the room. Other than the single bed, which I am on, there’s a study table and a chair pushed up against the window. A wooden closet in the far corner, it’s surface gleaming in the rays of the setting sun that pours through the window. I reach over and click on the lamp next to the bed. Blinking at the illumination, I glance up as he walks back in. He offers me a glass of water, urges me to drink it completely, then places the glass to the side, next to his phone.

He sits down on the bed. "We really do need to talk, now."