Gods & Monsters(72)

“Maybe you can.” He smiles, even though his eyes are smoldering. “You are. Sitting right next to me on the pew. We’re sitting all the way in the back, while Father Knight’s talking smack and everyone’s looking at him like his words are gold.”

Something happens to me at his words. A shift in my thinking. A crackling on my skin. There’s meaning in his eyes. Meaning and power and magic, and it makes me aware of the fact that for the past fifteen minutes, I’ve been sitting on my husband’s very hard lap, my butt pressing into what’s now becoming an impressive hard-on.

“All the way in the back?”

“Yeah.”

“By that… stained glass window? Where you first saw me? When you came in with Mr. B?”

“Fuck yeah. The light’s shining down on your hair, making it all pretty and beautiful. And my fingers are aching to touch it. Curl the strands. Pull them into my fist.”

“I-I think you can, now.”

“I can?”

I nod. “I’m your wife now, aren’t I? You can do whatever you want with me. And guess what? Me too.”

A dangerous glint enters his gaze; it makes me shiver. My heart purrs and pounds in my chest, and I fist his cross.

“You don’t wanna give me free rein, Pixie. Not with the whole town so close.”

I squirm in his lap, but somehow it feels like the back of my thighs are sliding down the shiny wood of the pew, my toes brushing against the floor of my hometown’s church.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m gonna do some very dirty things to you while you listen to your priest, and I won’t even let you keep your screams in check. In fact…” His chest rumbles, the vibrations echoing in my heavy breasts, which are crushed against him. “In fact, I’m gonna make sure you scream so people turn their heads and see you. The town’s princess moaning in pleasure, or maybe in pain. And you know where I’ll be?”

“Wh-where?”

“I’ll be kneeling on the ground, my head under her pink dress, licking her cunt.” His hand gets under my dress as he slides his callused fingers up my trembling thigh. “They won’t be able to see me at first, Pixie. They won’t be able to tell why Evangeline Elizabeth Hart, such a good little girl, is arching her back, thrusting her tits out, squeezing her cherry red nipples through her dress. They won’t understand why you’re moaning like that. Why you’re looking at the sky, cursing, telling someone to stop but then a second later, you’re telling him to keep going.”

Abel’s fingers are now at the hem of my panties. He can feel how wet I am, how drenched. How my pussy is pulsing, gaping open and closed like a fist, through the thin fabric. She’s dying for him, for his fingers, for his tongue, even his teeth.

“Abel…” I whimper when I feel him tucking his fingers inside my panties and rubbing the slick lips of my core.

“Fuck, baby. You just told them. You just whispered my name and outed our secret. Now they’re all beginning to rise from their seats. They are staring at you. Father Knight’s wondering what the fuck is going on. But I can’t stop.”

He nudges his hard dick under my butt as his fingers pick up speed. He isn’t touching the one place I want him to: my clit. But he’s burying his fingers in the seams of my cunt, in my wet curls.

“I can’t stop eating you out. You’re too tasty. Too delicious. Like sugar. You make me so horny, Pixie.”

“B-but they’ll take you away. Even if I’m your wife. They’ll lock you up if you do something like that. I-in church,” I protest, getting closer to him, rocking in his lap, trying to guide his fingers to where I need him.

I protest like we’re really in church and my heart is fluttering like a nervous bird. We’re whispering now. When I breathe, I can smell the incense, the varnish. I can hear the rustle of someone’s shoes sliding across the floor. I can hear the swish, the whispers of someone adjusting in their seats. The clearing of throats. The sighs. I can see them standing up, one by one, frowning, trying to figure out what’s going on. I can feel their gazes stabbing me, throwing stones at me.

I’m so turned on. I’m flushed and sweating like I’m on fire. Like I’ve swallowed the sun itself. I can hear Abel’s breaths next to me, all excited and growing more feral by the second.

And I never — not ever — want him to stop.

“They won’t.” He licks the side of my mouth and I have no choice but to catch his tongue, suck on the tip of it, drink his flavor.

“Why not?”

“Because when I lift your dress all the way up…” He’s doing it right now, inching the fabric up, until my wet panties come into view. I’ve totally slipped into my role and I try to close my thighs, but he doesn’t let me. He splays his palm open on my flesh and parts my legs, opening me up. To himself. To the town.

“Your panties are gonna be drenched. Look.” He rubs his glossy fingers up and down the wet spot, hitting my clit through the soggy cloth, making me jerk and twist my hips.

We both look down at where he’s rubbing me. It’s so dirty and obscene and so fucking erotic. My pale thighs open, scraping against his jeans. Then he pushes the crotch of my white underwear to the side, baring my pussy. I grab hold of his wrist and stare at him fearfully, aroused out of my mind.