Saving Sins (Forbidden Erotic Romance) by Ava Lore Page A

cold
of the tiles on her skin, the thick smell of incense in her nose.
    Then Father Michael pulled out and thrust forward, and Tara
gave a little shriek. Her voice, buried beneath her need for so many years,
under so much pressure, came out high and shrill, and behind her he grunted,
his hips thrusting again, then again and again, picking up a frantic pace.
    "Tara," he said, "Tara, my love, Tara, my
girl, my poor broken girl—"
    She pushed back as his pelvis pistoned into her, and his
thrusts took on a painful edge as he pounded against her ass. "Fuck me,
Father," she moaned. "Fuck me, Michael."
    "Sweet God in heaven," he cried, and then they
were fucking, raw and hard and frantic, pain and pleasure and sadness and care
all grating together, generating a heat she had never felt before, so sweet and
aching she felt impaled through the heart by her own impossible love.
    Her body tightened around the rhythmic stab of his cock, and
she strained, pushing back, squirming, writhing. "Father, fuck me,
Michael, fuck me, harder, harder—"
    "Tara, Tara, Tara," he said, and her name was a
profane prayer on his lips as she felt his cock hitch inside her. His hands
reached out, tangling in her long blonde hair, pulling until her head could go
no further, and he was riding her, her back arched, her pussy quivering and
squeezing around him. Her mouth was open, raw, animal sounds escaping from her
throat, and she stared at the alcove across from her, where some saint or other
stared down at them, watching Father Michael take her on the floor.
    Go ahead and watch, she thought fiercely, and then Michael
shifted, angling his cock deeper into her, and her building orgasm suddenly
crested and crashed over her, flooding her, her whole body clenching and
writhing, and she screamed. The sound echoed in the vestibule, and behind her
Michael's ragged cries grew desperate as her slick, clenching passage suddenly
grasped his cock and milked it. Then he, too, was shuddering with climax, and
he came inside her, his hot, thick seed spurting against her womb, filling her
pussy, over and over and over again, until it was running down her thighs,
spilling onto her jeans, spattering the floor.
    As the pleasure receded, Tara listened to their breathing
slow, and Michael pressed his face into her back.
    "Tara," he said, and she heard regret in his
voice.
    "Shh," she told him. Slowly she pushed herself
back, with him still seated inside her, until they were sitting back, his cock
in her pussy as she sat in his lap on the floor. Turning, she looked him in the
eye. His face, so handsome, was haggard. His lips pressed together unhappily as
he stared at her, and her heart twisted. Leaning back, she kissed him. After a
moment, he responded, and slowly, languorously, she teased the tension from
him, her lips softening his mouth until she felt him relax against her. She
pulled away and pressed her forehead to his face.
    "Be with me tonight," she murmured. "Just
tonight."
    For a moment she thought he would refuse, but then he
nodded.
    "Tonight," he promised. "Just for
tonight."
     
    *
     
    They fucked all night. Moving from the vestibule floor, she
took him by the hand into the sanctuary, and he followed her. He bent her over
the railing of the altar and had her there, in full defiance of the crucifix on
the wall, and she came twice around him. In the confessional box, she sucked
his cock into her mouth and milked him until he moaned and pushed her away,
falling to his knees before her like a supplicant, pushing his face between her
thighs and licking her to climax.
    He took her home, then, to his little apartment, a spare two
room affair, and they made love there, over and over. Pushing him into his
bedroom, she slowly disrobed him, casting aside the trappings of his calling,
until he was just a man standing naked before her. Her man. The man she owed so
much. The man she loved so fiercely. Wedded to the church, but she had him for
the night, and she intended to make it