Page 24 of The Sinner and the Priest: Part Two

I thread fingers through his damp hair.

“Cisco, we shouldn’t⁠—”

He drops to his knees, biting me on my stomach.

“So good,” he mutters.

His face meets my pussy, and he inhales through my panties, shoulders shuddering, fingers flexing on my hips with bruising force. I freeze again, fighting my instincts for logic. Behind him, the steam-room door is a ticking time bomb waiting to go off.

We’re not even dressed. It’s almost lunch, and if we want any hope of infiltrating the scavi and grottoes without detection, now is the best time. Staff will be taking breaks, and guards will be changing shifts.

Cisco growls against me, renewing his grip when I try to pull him off.

“We really should⁠—”

He yanks my panties down, shoves his tongue through my pussy lips, and gives me a hard lick.

I cry out as pleasure hits. My reaction emboldens him, and he holds my hips against the locker, his tongue delving deeper on the next lave.

“Cisco . . .” I groan, but no more words come out. His tongue circles my clit, leaving liquid fire in its wake. My vision blurs. My limbs go weak. I’m a panting, mewling mess by the time I remember to tug him back by the hair.

“Mm.” His eyes flick up to capture mine as he continues to feast.

God, the carnal heat in them. It’s the pure ego of a man who knows how to make a woman scream, and it’s wrong belonging to a priest. It definitely belongs to the other half of him, the one I should be worried about.

When I forget to finish my sentence, his eyes crinkle, and then shutter as he gives himself over to the taste of me. He licks every part of my intimate flesh, tongue probing deep as if I’m the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted.

“Wait . . .” I moan.

“Tell me to stop.” His tongue flutters against my clit.

“Go harder,” I demand, thrusting my hips into his mouth.

He tosses my right leg over his shoulder, exposing me further. His eyes light up at the sight, and he swipes his fingers through my wetness, exploring my pussy as if we have all the time in the world.

“Why did I wait so long to taste this?” he murmurs roughly, and then his mouth is on me again, taking me more ravenously than before.

Pleasure sparks and spreads to my limbs like wildfire.

“Fuck me, you’re good,” I groan out.

I’m going to want this morning, noon, and night. I’m not going to care if we’re dancing in the blood of our enemies or being flayed alive. I just want this. The touch of him, the warmth, the little sounds he makes, the way he’s all in. He keeps mumbling in Italian about how incredible I taste.

I can’t believe I worried that he’d hurt me. He brings me to the brink in seconds.

My muscles tense. “Oh, God. I’m about to⁠—”

“No.” He snaps back to glare up at me. “Not yet.”

“What?” I blink, gasping and dizzy from the abrupt pull back from the edge.

“Not yet.” He kisses my inner thigh by way of apology and then slides a finger inside me, knuckle deep. He presses his thumb against my clit. Once. Possessive, feral eyes lock with mine as he explains. “I haven’t had my fill.”

“Fuck you, Cisco.” I grip his hair, pulling hard. “Don’t play with me.”

He grins like a maniac and inserts a second finger, stretching me deep.

“Sei tutta mia,” he whispers. You’re all mine. “I will play with you how I want.”