Holding myself, I pressed the head of my cock against her clit, brushing down past her entrance to her ass. She shivered in a way that told me she had no objection to that either, and I’d have to add that to the things I’d bitterly regret never having. I moved up, again grazing past her opening and up to her clit. She gave me an agonized expression and I wanted to kiss it right off her face—or come all over it, either one. After a few more passes, I couldn’t wait any longer, I had to do it or I might actually die on the spot.

I leaned my forehead against hers, both of us looking down to watch as my tip pressed against her and slowly slipped inside. I stopped when the crest of my cock was in her, and then froze, muscles quivering.

Both of us just stared down at it, this impossible sight: me inside of her, a priest tasting the forbidden fruit and barely able to keep himself from eating it all.

“How does it feel?” she whispered.

“It feels…” my voice was barely more than a gasp at this point. “It feels like heaven.”

She was so tight, her cunt squeezing my tip, and there were no words to describe what that wet, slippery skin was doing to me, because it was rewriting my mind and my soul, my future and my life. It was a sensation so base and primal, so delicious, that I would have killed to feel it, I would kill somebody right now if it meant I could have my dick inside this woman again.

One and a half inches of damnation, and all I could think about was sinking deeper into hell.

She rocked forward the tiniest bit, unable to help herself, greedy lamb, and I grabbed her neck, my legs shaking with the effort not to come from that single little movement alone. “Stay the fuck still, or I’m going to come before I want to, and if that happens, then I will take you over my knee and spank your ass until you learn how to listen,” I said sternly.

My command had the predictable effect of sending goose bumps rippling up her arms. Her breathing was loud and harsh sounding in the small kitchen. “Fuck,” she whispered. “Fuck. I—this—this is the hottest thing I’ve ever done.”

It was possibly the hottest thing I’d ever done too, and I’d done a lifetime’s worth of hot things to many hot women—but none of them had been like Poppy.

Red-lipped and blue-blooded. And fuck, the horniest woman I’d ever met.

“I want to feel you come around me,” I said, my forehead still against hers, our eyes going back to the place where we were joined. I would never forget this as long as I lived, I knew, and I didn’t want her to forget either.

“That won’t take long,” she said and then gave a little husky laugh that made her clench around me. I hissed, grabbing the countertop to keep myself from losing it.

“Sorry,” she whispered, and in answer, I slid a hand over her leg to her clit and began rubbing.

“Stay still,” I reminded her as we watched my large hand, tan and calloused from all the odd jobs I did around the church, pressing into her soft pink flesh, as we watched her quiver around the tip of my dick.

“I’m trying to stay still,” she murmured, and I could tell she was, I could tell she wanted to see herself come around me as much as I did. I increased the strength and tempo of my fingers.

“Filthy girl,” I whispered. “So dirty to let me stick it inside of you. Do you like this, being spread open and used this way? I bet you like being called dirty names too.”

“P-please,” she moaned.

“Please what, lamb?”

She could barely talk now, her head lolling back against the cabinets, her arched back shoving her breasts closer to me. “Names,” she got out. “I like…the names…”

Fuck. She was really going to kill me. Death by turn on. Death by perpetual erection.

“Are you a slut, Poppy?” I bent my head down and sucked on a nipple, loving the feel of it furling on my tongue, stiffening as I sucked. “You’re sure acting like a slut, making me act this way. You’re making me break all sorts of rules, and I hate breaking rules.” I moved to her neck, kissing and biting. “You’ll take it anywhere you can get it, won’t you?”

“I’m—” She inhaled, unable to finish, but she didn’t need to because she was coming now, her body undulating as if to chase the waves of pleasure that rolled through it. Again and again, her pussy clamped down on the head of my cock, squeezing and pulsing, and just knowing that I could make her come with only the shallowest of penetrations made me nearly wild.

She slumped in my arms as she came down, resting her head on my shoulder. “Your turn,” she said against my skin.

I started to pull out but she grabbed my hips and stopped me. “No,” she said. “In me.”

“Poppy,” I started.

“I’m on the pill.” Her jaw set as she looked up at me. “I want to see it spilling out around you. I want it where it belongs—in me. Please, Tyler. If this is the last time, give me this one thing.”

Tyler. She’d never called me that before. And it was there at the base of my spine now, fueled by her dirty words—what woman begged for this? What woman was turned on by it?

But frankly, I would have agreed to anything, no matter how dangerous, so I nodded, my jaw clenching.

She leaned back against the cabinets, bringing her heels up to the counter. The change in her position didn’t move me any deeper inside, but it made her flex and tighten around me, and my climax clawed closer. She slid her hands to the undersides of her breasts, running her thumbs along her still-stiff nipples, pressing her breasts together and moving them apart, highlighting how fucking luscious they were and nearly blinding me with lust at the same time.

God, I needed to pump.

Needed to thrust.

Needed to fuck.

Then her fingers went to her clit and she started getting herself off again, her other fingers going up to slide in and out of her mouth and I was fucking transfixed, those lips, that wicked mouth, the mouth that had gotten my cock from hard as fuck to harder than fuck by the fireplace earlier. And then—naughty girl—she moved her hips ever so slightly, bucking them just enough to push me in and out of her the smallest bit, so wet, so tight, and there it was, stabbing through my balls and up my cock, and we both watched as it happened, as my hips jerked and my stomach muscles jumped and then I ejaculated. My legs could barely support my weight and I could barely breathe as it ripped through me, my first climax in a woman in years, but I forced myself to stand stock still because I wanted to memorize this moment forever, the semen dripping and her pussy so wet and her legs spread in hallowed welcome. The pulsing finally, finally slowed, and she laid her head against my chest, making this happy, contented little sigh, and my heart twisted inside my chest, demanding everything that it wanted now that it could be heard over my rampant lust.

“Shit,” I mumbled, leaning forward and pressing my face into her sweet-smelling hair. “What are you doing to me?”

We stayed that way a long moment, neither of us wanting it to be over, but then the air conditioning kicked on, blowing cold air over us, and Poppy shivered, still naked. I had her stay on the counter while I got a washcloth and cleaned her with warm water, and then I helped her find her clothes and walk to the door.

“So I’ll see you at Mass tomorrow?” she said.

“Poppy—”

“I know, I know,” she said with a sad smile. “Tomorrow, we’ll start fresh. Chaste. Clean.”

“Good, but that’s not what I was going to say.”

Her brows furrowed. “What were you going to say?”

I leaned in and brushed my lips against hers. Last time. Last kiss. “I wanted to say thank you. For the Scotch and for…what just happened.”

She blinked up at me and then her eyes fluttered closed as I deepened our kiss, tasting every inch of her mouth, licking into her as gently and lovingly as I had done ferociously earlier. I never wanted to move from this spot, I only wanted to taste her and breathe the air that we were sharing and feel her body warm against mine—and also pretend that I wasn’t waiting for a tsunami of guilt and a lifetime of penance.