Beautiful Sinner: Chapter 19
HE’S AVOIDING ME AGAIN. When I wake up the next morning, he’s gone. He’s not at the barn when I show up to clean Misty’s stall, and he doesn’t show up to the house for the rest of the day.
I get that this is a moral conundrum for him. I understand that he’s torn between his vows and his desires, but I’m not just some vice to avoid. I’m a person, with feelings and needs, and I hate being avoided.
When I mention it to Bridget, how Callum is around less today than normal, she reminds me that it’s Wednesday, and he has Mass tonight.
So naturally, I’m feeling the sudden urge to get right with God.
After helping up around the house and turning a couple of the rooms over for new guests checking in tomorrow, I duck out at five and head to the church. I’m a little late, so by the time I walk in, in my simple blue dress with the high neckline that hugs my waist and flares out enough to not be too risqué, I hear Callum’s voice the moment I cross the threshold.
He sounds like a different person up there. There is more charisma in his voice while he’s preaching and for the short time that I get to watch him without him seeing me, I see just how fit he is for this job. Callum is the best of both worlds. He’s just the right amount of young and fresh while also representing the ancient and holy side of the faith. The way he talks, he makes me believe.
He spots me just before I slide into the back pew, and his speech falters. He wasn’t expecting me.
Just after finishing his sentence, he takes a moment, turning away from the crowd and walking back to his altar, looking as if he’s thinking over his next words. I wonder briefly if he’s thinking about me. What we did last night. I squeeze my legs together just reliving it in my mind, the feel of his hand against my thigh, the way he knew exactly how to bring me to climax, the heavy thickness in his pants, grinding against my hip.
He may look like a priest, but I’ve seen a different side of him. The man behind the collar. It may have been a long time since he’s been with a woman, but he’s definitely been with enough to know what he’s doing, and he may be committed to those vows, but he has some serious desires he can’t deny.
I grip the edge of my dress and squeeze it tightly over my thighs. I admire how handsome he is up there. The lights above catch the blond in his waves and bring out the golden tint to his skin. I would have never stopped and had a second look at Callum if he were in Pineridge and we were just two regular people. But now, he’s all I can think about. I crave the comfort I feel when I’m around him. The familiarity we’ve built. The way he makes me think, looks at me when I say something bold, treats me like I belong to him.
Which I realize is a stupid thing to think, but I want him to do more than break those vows. I want him to break them for me. Not just for sex. I want him to break them and make new ones.
Heat pulses in my chest as he continues speaking, and his homily goes past my ears without registering a word he’s saying. I’m distracted by the fact that I’m admitting to myself some very serious feelings.
And it’s not just that I’m falling for Callum—I fall for men all the time. What’s throwing me off about this one is that it feels so different, so consuming, so real.
When I look up at him again, our eyes lock. The intensity that burns between us is too powerful to be ignored.
Suddenly, everyone in the pews stands and starts a line toward the front. For a moment, I almost bolt out of the church. I want to run away with all of these crazy feelings swirling around in my brain, but he catches me with his gaze and gestures for me to come up.
I don’t even know what I’m getting in line for when I stand behind two young women. They are both fair and beautiful, and I almost get jealous of how long they’ve probably been coming to this service and hearing his voice.
I watch as each person in the line steps up to Callum, kneels on the bench in front of him and opens their mouths. He places something on each of their tongues and then an altar boy next to him hands each person a small cup of red liquid.
The girls in front of me stare up in adoration as they receive their cracker, and I start to feel incredibly nervous about it when it’s my turn.
“Kneel,” he says in a low whisper, and my spine tingles with this command. It’s something just between us that no one else can hear because no one else knows what it is we have.
“Open.” It’s the smallest sound out of his mouth, and I almost doubt I heard him say it. Nevertheless, my nipples harden under my dress as I do as he says, holding my mouth open like I saw the others do. I hear him exhale so subtly as he places the cracker on my tongue. My eyes stay locked on his the entire time, and only I can see his pulse quicken.
He mutters a prayer I don’t understand and everyone can hear. I don’t want to stand from this bench. I want to stay in this spot and stare up at him, doing exactly as he orders me to do. My mind reels with the possibilities, and my body reacts.
I stagger back to my seat and after a few more chanted prayers, the congregation stands and starts to file out of the church. They mingle around the door, and I spot Callum talking to an older couple. He’s wringing his hands in a way I’ve never seen him do before.
His eyes lock with mine, and I hear him excuse himself from the conversation. People seem to be leaving pretty quickly, and I consider leaving too. I hope he sleeps in the house tonight and not here at the rectory.
Suddenly he’s at my side, his hand on my elbow. He’s ushering me silently out of the main section of the church and toward the hallway where I know his office is. My heart is racing, and it almost feels like I’m in trouble, being marched off to the principal’s office.
A moment later we’re in his office, and the door behind us is closed. Then I’m in his arms, pressed between his body and the heavy wooden door. We don’t speak before his mouth is on mine and his hands are on my hips.
I pour every wild thought in my head into that kiss. Being in this church did things to me, brought out a clarity that is unsettling, and I send every ounce of it out of me through this physical connection between us. He presses his tongue into my mouth, invading me, and I break away long enough to take his lower lip between my teeth. It’s like we’re at war, each of using these forbidden desires as our weapons.
Then his hands are on my thighs, lifting my dress up and squeezing my ass so tight, I can’t hold in the moan, which he quickly covers with his other hand.
“Am I hurting you?” His bright green eyes stare into my soul.
“Yes,” I gasp, and he almost loosens his grip as I pull his ear to my lips. “Do it harder.”
He lets out a low growl.
I’m not playing fair. I realize that, but I’m competing against God here, and I’ll use whatever I have to win him over. I want Callum in ways I’ve never wanted anyone before, and I’m willing to fight dirty to get him.
“Did you like seeing me on my knees?” I whisper.
He tenses. Then without looking me in the eye, he responds. “You fucking know I did.”
With my back still against the door, I let my body slide down to the floor.
“Cadence, what are you doing?” His voice is strained, and I know it’s taking a lot to hold himself back.
“What do you think I’m doing?” I answer playfully. “I’m praying.” My hands slide to his hips. The look on his face is a mixture of torture and desire. I stare up at him like I did on the bench out in the church, and I know it’s breaking his resolve.
Slowly, I start to move the zipper down on his pants. In a rush, he grabs my wrists. “I can’t.”
I feel momentarily deflated until his hand finds my jaw and tilts it up to see his eyes. “I want to. God, you should know how much I want to.”
“Just hearing you say that turns me on,” I reply, and suddenly it’s his hands on his zipper and I swallow in anticipation. When his cock springs free, my jaw drops. I was not anticipating this, but a man this size should have never been allowed to join the clergy. He’s thick and throbbing, like a dick that hasn’t seen a pair of lips in almost a decade would throb.
He strokes it a couple times, and I lean forward to place a kiss on the pink head. He pulls away, and I’m afraid he’s about to deny me again.
“Look at me.”
My eyes drift up to meet his as he presses it against my lips. The moment his cock touches me, I take control, hungry to taste him. To please him.
I take the base in my hands and run my tongue along the bottom to the top.
“Oh fuck,” he moans as he places a hand on the door behind me, caging me in. As my tongue reaches the tip, I stare back up at him as I pull his length into my mouth.
“No. I can’t.” As fast as it was between my lips it’s gone. He pulls away, holding himself in his fist, and I can see him squeezing so tight it looks painful. His face is resting in anguish against his arm, and my heart breaks.
“Callum, it’s okay,” I whisper, reaching for his hand.
“You could have been stranded at any hotel in Ireland, Cadence. Why did you land at mine? Why did He send you to me if He knew how this would end?”
“Maybe it was providence?”
Still on my knees, I stare up at him, no longer with lust in my eyes, but compassion. I hate this feeling that I’m torturing him. I want to fight for Callum, but I’m not willing to split him in two to do it.
After a moment, he slowly leans his hips back toward me. “Kiss it again.”
Eagerly, I oblige, tasting the saltiness of his arousal on my lips. When he relaxes his grip, I take over, holding him in my hand and letting him slide past my tongue.
Every vein in his body pops as he struggles with the pleasure. After coating his dick until it’s dripping, I pick up speed, stroking my hand along with my lips. And with my eyes on his, I think about providence. How God sent me here, brought me to this church, to this man, and I try to find an ounce of that doubt I felt before, but it’s fading fast.
Callum’s breathing stops, and I hear him mumble something unintelligible, ending it with a curse word that definitely takes the Lord’s name in vain.
One of his hands holds my hair then drifts down to my cheek as I work his shaft, feeling it tighten as it races closer to climax, and I’m absolutely obsessed with this moment. I want to see him drown in this pleasure, and I want him to stare at me when he comes.
He should know I’m the only one who can make him feel this way.
The hand on my cheek moves to the back of my head as his face grows more pained. I want him to lose control. Fuck me like he wants to. Shove his cock down my throat, but he’s holding back.
Just then, his body tenses, and he finally jerks forward, reaching the back of my mouth, and I let out a moan of pleasure. I feel him coating my throat, and I swallow down to see his reaction.
I wait for his smile and a warm look of affection, but he nearly collapses against the door, looking more pained and broken than I expected. He pulls himself out of my mouth and zips up in a hurry, leaving me waiting on the floor. He passes me a tissue and quickly moves to make me stand. Then, he fixes my hair and dotes on me like he owes me something.
“Stop it,” I mumble.
“I don’t know what came over me.”
Before he can turn away again, I grab his face and pull him toward me. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I know exactly what came over you, and it’s the same thing that’s come over me since I got here. We can deny it all we want and pretend we don’t know exactly where this is going, or we can accept it. It can’t be wrong. It feels too good to be wrong.”
There’s a look of surprise on his face just before he snatches me up by the waist and pulls me against him. Then he kisses me, no longer invading my mouth, but savoring my lips softly.
Everything about this feels wildly out of control, and I know it should scare me, but I’ve never been more excited about anything in my life.