"You're quiet," he says, pulling away, taking my candle from me, placing both candles on the altar at the end of the room. “Pussycat got your tongue?”
"I've got a lot going on in this head," I say, looking at the floor.
"Well," he says, wrapping a hand around my waist and pulling me towards him again, "let's see if we can get rid of some of those thoughts for a while. Huh?"
I nod, closing my eyes as he presses his lips to my forehead, then my cheek, and finally, over my mouth. "Yeah,” I breathe between kisses. “I’d like that.”
He palms my breasts through the black fabric of my dress, then tugs. The dress is tight, but the straps are wide enough that he manages to shove them down my shoulders, letting my tits spill out of the top. My nipples stiffen against the cold, and I groan when he sucks my right nipple into his mouth and bites ever-so-gently, repeating the action on the left one.
He grins, his blue eyes full of desire. “Lift up your dress.”
A thrill of lust pulses through my body and settles in my core, a steady throb that demands attention. I take the hem of my dress and drag it up my thighs, slowly, savoring the way Will watches me, as if he’s a lion and I’m the prey he’s going to sink his teeth into. His hands go to my panties, pulling them down my thighs, unhooking them from my feet, holding them up to his mouth.
“Jesus fuck,” he mutters into my soaked panties, and somehow the words sound so much worse because of where we are. I watch, mesmerized, as he sucks on the fabric that was against my pussy just seconds ago. He shoves them in his pocket; they belong to him, now. My heart sinks as I realize this is probably the last time he’s going to steal my panties from me.
Will unbuttons his pants with one hand, releasing his cock. It bounces out, hard and thick and pointed straight at me.
“Come here,” he says, his voice strangled. He pumps his cock, a bead of precum appearing on the tip. I lick my lips, watching as he swipes the tip with his thumb and brings it up to my mouth.
“Suck,” he murmurs.
I take his thumb into my mouth, the salty taste of him a tease of what’s to come. I suck hard enough to make him groan. “Avery, you’re fucking killing me.”
No, but I’m about to. I release his thumb from my mouth with a wet pop, sinking to my knees. The marble floors are hard and cold, but I barely feel them as I wrap my fingers around Will and guide him into my hungry mouth. I moan around him as he threads his fingers into my hair and pulls, bottoming out when he hits the back of my throat.
I gag, my eyes watering as Will pulls out of my mouth, strings of saliva glistening like tiny webs between his cock and my lips. I take a shuddering breath before he pushes into my mouth again, the back of my head braced against the side of the altar as Will fucks my face. I wrap my hands around the back of Will’s knees to hold myself steady, my clit throbbing, begging for stimulation.
My father’s words come back to haunt me as I shiver in the cold darkness: You can be married to one man and in love with another. If there’s one thing I know about Will, it’s that he’s too proud to be somebody’s dirty secret. The only reason he’s my dirty secret now is because I’ve promised him things in the dark that I’ll never be able to give him in the light of day.
Things he deserves. A wife who loves him. Babies, made with love, in a bed in a house, not made in a fucking cemetery or during a secret tryst. Emotion threatens to consume me, to turn my lustful pants into full-on sobs, but I push my tears down. If he sees me losing my mind, the gig is up. Not yet. We need more time.
“Fuck me,” I pant when he pulls out of my mouth.
“I thought you’d never ask,” Will deadpans, letting go of my hair and putting his hands under my shoulders, yanking me to my feet. His cock is a rod of molten steel pressed between us as he molds his hips to mine. He fuses my mouth with his, his body covering mine, and he tastes so fucking good, I can’t bear it.
Am I ever going to kiss him again?
He fumbles in his pocket, producing a foil packet that he rips open with his teeth. I watch as he rolls the condom on, pressing my thighs together to try and ease the throb between them a little, when I grab Will’s wrist.
“No condom,” I blurt out. “Just us.”
Will laughs. “Don’t joke.”
His smile disappears as he sees I’m serious. I take my hand from his wrist and start to pull the condom from his cock, breathing nervously. I’ve never had sex without protection before. It was something drilled into my head when I was twelve years old, the day I got my first period. My father sat me down and explained the birds and the bees — in all it’s clinical, anatomically correct, sometimes horrifying detail for a child to understand.
I remember sitting on my hands in the chair across his desk, my stomach cramping painfully from my first ever bleed, wishing my mother were alive to soften the blow of becoming a woman. I’ll never forget Daddy sliding a carton of condoms across the table as he told me he knew he couldn’t stop me from having sex — but if I ever came home pregnant, I would have to have surgery to get rid of the baby.
He told me all about that, too.
Girls in our family who get pregnant before they’re supposed to, or to boys they’re not going to marry, get abortions and are never allowed to leave the house again.
Will knows this. He got the same talk from my father when we started dating. We hadn’t even held hands and my father was threatening to cut his dick off if he ever put it in me without a rubber firmly wrapped around it.
There really are no boundaries the men in my family won’t cross to keep decorum.
Will and I have done just about everything. He’s a filthy boy, and I’m a dirty girl. But we’ve never, ever, not even for a second, been skin on skin like that. This, despite the fact that I have an IUD fitted that prevents pregnancy. But nothing is one hundred percent. Nothing is guaranteed. And we’ve just always been overly cautious.
Until now. I just want to feel him inside me, with nothing to separate us. The thought of him coming inside me makes my whole body flush with anticipation, with rebellious lust. And he’s angry. He’ll be rough. Good.
Before I can get the condom all the way off, Will grabs my wrist, moving my hand away from him. I reach for him again and he smacks my hand away. The next thing I know, his fingers are sliding along my drenched pussy, and then he’s pushing them inside, three fingers, all the way to the knuckle. I gasp at the unexpected penetration, my hands clutching at the edge of the altar, a moan escaping my lips. A moment later he presses his thumb against my clit and starts to rub it, rough and insistent, as he fucks me with his hand.
“Wider,” he says, kicking the inside of my foot with his, forcing my legs farther apart so he can go deeper.
“Will—”
“No talking,” he cuts me off, pumping his fingers harder. I can hear how wet I am, because my arousal makes an audible noise every time he moves his fingers inside me. “There are only two reasons you would let me fuck you bare,” he continues, his thumb so insistent against my clit that I’m almost coming on his hand. I’m struggling to catch up. Will’s an excellent lover, but he’s not usually like this.
“Reason one,” he grinds out. “Your father finally decided to let you marry my dumb ass.”