Sweetest Sin(86)

Because she needed to feel me. She depended on my strength to keep her upright. Her slit wetted, and my cock slid deeper, harder, faster. She groaned my name and clutched at her bouncing breasts as that delight and trust and connection unified our bodies.

I held her hips and squeezed. She whispered a deliciously tempting prayer for a mercy I wasn’t ready to give.

“Do you know the story of Lilith?” My voice growled, low in wonderful agony. “It’s old Jewish folklore. Lilith was Adam’s first wife.”

“First?”

I held her tighter. Controlled her. She fell onto my chest.

I could do so much to this body.

My hips arched, and I buried in her deeper. She groaned my name as I slammed her harder, lifted her higher.

“The story says she refused to submit to Adam.” A thrill teased me. “She wanted to stay on top.”

Honor’s soft words panted in desperation. “Who wouldn’t?”

“Tell me honestly.” I gritted my teeth and crashed her hard against me. “Do you trust me, my angel?”

She didn’t hesitate, and her answer moaned as she took my cock harder within her perfect slit.

“Yes, Father. I trust you.”

Then it was time to trust myself.

I pulled her from my cock. Honor knew what need possessed me. She willingly rested on the bed beside me, drawing up to her hands and knees under the guidance of my trembling hand.

Glory and sin warred over her curves. She glistened with sweat and baited me for a bite, a kiss, a touch.

I moved behind her. Every twisted fantasy and wicked desire that possessed my mind was born of this image.

An angel upon her knees.

A woman submitting to her man.

A passion and pleasure bound within the depraved lusts of a sinner.

I asked her to trust me. I had no right to demand it of her, not when I didn’t trust myself.

But I readied myself at her hips. I kissed between her shoulders, down her elegant back, to the curve of her thighs. Every primal need roared through me.

God, forgive me.

I pressed my cock against her folds.

I once believed this would become the destruction of my faith. The rage, fear, uncertainty, and sin burned away—sins purged in the absolution and truth I found within her.

Honor arched as I mounted her, her mew a timid tremble and the milking clench of her heat a dizzying gratitude.

I sheathed within her. Entirely. Completely.

This was pleasure.

Not a conquering of one body, but a surrender of both lovers in amazement, worship, and overwhelming desire. Lust transformed, lost in the flames of passion, not hellfire.

I didn’t claim. I didn’t take. I didn’t fuck.

We were one. A single body, mind, soul, heart. Everything good and pure I had preached and taught and lived to experience, made whole in a union   of our bodies.

Peace.

Forgiveness.

She trembled, and I took her in my arms. I no longer forced her onto her hands and knees. She joined with me, my arm over her waist.

I thrust within her, again and again, earning a sweet cry and the warning tension which ripped through her. It mirrored my own.

Every invasion welcomed. Every intrusion forgiven. Every pleasure gifted.

I lost myself in her tightness, and she found me in a beautiful promise. She blessed me with her delirious cries. Whispered promises I couldn’t reciprocate.

Together we suffered and sinned and worship. We built to that beautiful moment when our hearts ceased to beat, when everything crashed upon the singularity of pleasure. A mythical peace. The crash of sin and sorrow and passion and wonder that destroyed our separate souls to create one.

She came for me, and her pleas sighed and begged for my own release.

I was already there. With her. In unison with her.

I caught her in my arms before she collapsed. We both fell to the bed, and I pinned her between me and our sweet oblivion.

She trusted me. Her body so delicate and holy. I thrust within her completely to hear her moan, to savor the tensing waves of her pleasure. Her orgasm stole her breath and words, and I knew my place in the world was to protect her in this moment of pure surrender.

My ultimate sin became a glorious conversion.

Nothing shamed me, nothing bound me, and I released my soul within her.

How had I become so blessed?

Her thoughts, her words, her very touch purified what had been ruined. In her arms, I wasn’t broken. She made me new. Whole. Her whisper spoke to me like Heaven’s sigh, and I was the one renewed within her gifted virtue.

I lost myself within her for too long. I jetted until I was spent but never softened. I stayed within her and kissed her neck, whispered every honesty, and accepted pleasure for the first time in my life.

Only once my body burned too hot, only when I feared I’d be turned into a pillar of salt for staring at someone so holy, did I pull away.