Her Priest (Divine Domination Book 1) Read online

  Choking on a sob, Father William McKenna pulled away, his chin shaking. “I feel like I’ve talked myself out of the best roommate I’ve ever had. You’ll be missed, Emerson. Promise me you’ll be happy, and tell that girl of yours that I deserve a home-cooked meal the next time I’m in Amsterdam.”

  Emerson swiped at his tears, laughing through his sobs. “I’ll let her know—and you’ll stay at our house when you do come to visit.” He paused, tossing his head back, looking at the ceiling. “Our house.” He grabbed his friend again. “Thank you, Bill.”

  Emerson rubbed his forearm at his eyes, wiping away the tears threatening to fall from the memories of that heartfelt talk. He still couldn’t believe his luck—or was it fate and destiny? What were the chances that she’d find him on Facebook? And that she’d become single while living in Europe, just waiting for him (or so it seemed to him)?

  Once he’d made his decision, he quickly informed the church. He tied up most of his dealings and any other loose strings, and then packed his few belongings, moving to Amsterdam to be near his love. He’d only been there for four months but it felt like they’d been seeing each other for an eternity.

  He knew that the time had come for them to decide where they were taking their relationship. Would they live together? Get married? After all, she was divorced; she had no children or any relationships that required her attention. It would be pretty easy, at least in his mind, to rise to the next level.

  Emerson had lost her once; he refused to chance losing her again, and he had some ideas on how to do it too.

  Chapter 6

  Chelsea woke to the smell of stuffed peppers in the oven; he knew she loved them and if she was smelling correctly, he was also making something that required chocolate. She hoped it was his mousse. Inhaling deeply, she arched her back, stretching. Her clit instantly throbbed.

  I’m still needing my orgasm.

  She gave a furtive glance toward the door. It was closed. The clock said it was four in the afternoon; she still had some time before he’d come looking for her, awakening her for dinner. Sliding her fingers down to her pussy, she worked her fingers at the seam of her sex, separating the labia, gliding her middle finger though the slippery, puffy lips, and dipping into her channel, coating the digit liberally with her juices before circling the already hardened clit. Her back arched, the ache and need rising, her hips thrusting with the spasming of her sex. Pulling her lip between her teeth, she pressed the heel of her hand on her mound, her arousal and the rhythm of her clit throbbing, mounting, while her finger slipped into her. She wiggled them, sliding along her g-spot. She gasped, she was close, and it wouldn’t take long to fall over the cliff into her release. Her hips swiveled, rising and lowering on the bed, milking and squeezing her fingers, her other hand furiously rubbing and pressing her clit. Her neck elongated, her eyes rolling. Oh God. Oh…Oh.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Jerking her fingers from her body, startled, she jumped, turning to find Emerson with his hands on his hips, eyebrows furrowed, and his nostrils flared. An angry Emerson.

  Shit!

  “Uhm…I was horny and I…” She literally couldn’t come up with any excuse. At all.

  “What are the rules, Chelsea Leigh?” He narrowed his gaze at her, his lips thinning with anger.

  “I’m not to touch myself because my pussy is yours. Only you can bring me to orgasm or give me permission to bring myself to orgasm.”

  “Nice to see that from all the discussions we’ve had about this, you have it all memorized in rote. Too bad you didn’t take it to heart today.” He exhaled loudly, briefly shuttering his eyes before saying, “Get up.”

  She skittered across the bed, quickly standing before him, her hands crossed behind her back, just the way he liked, her breasts prominently displayed.

  He still had his priest collar on, his bare chest still exposed. Her clit throbbed. She loved him wearing his collarette and no shirt—it was so forbidden, so…dirty.

  “Your chest is still flushed with your arousal.” He ran his forefinger from the hollow of her neck to lightly circle a breast before cupping the weight of one in his palm.

  “Y-yes, Sir.” She didn’t know if he wanted her to answer, but she figured she’d play it safe and reply. She dropped her gaze, noticing that he’d put his grey sweatpants on to cook, the front of them tented with his erection.

  “Yes, you’re right; I’m aroused. I can’t see you flushed with excitement and not react. Slip my pants off, please.” He pinched the nipple of her other breast—harshly.

  She gasped, jumping from the pain. Both of his hands cupped her breasts, plumping them. She slipped her hands under the waistband at his hips, stretching it to accommodate his hard cock, and once past it, she let the material slide down his legs, pooling at his ankles.

  Making eye contact with him in silent question, he nodded, letting go of her breasts and backing up a step to give her room to bend over and slip each of his feet out of the legs of the pants.

  She stood clasping her elbows behind her, awaiting his instruction. In her periphery, his erection jerked, and her clit throbbed anew watching it.

  “Are you still horny?” His hand cupped her sex.

  “Yes, Sir.” She had no doubt in her mind that his hand would come away wet with the sticky evidence of her misdeed.

  “You’re dripping is what you are. Bad girl.” His eyebrows furrowed at her, shaking his head in disgust before sitting on the bed.

  This would be when he’d toss her over his knee and spank her backside with his hand since there were no implements around.

  Thank God!

  “Back up a couple steps, please.” With his hand bent, he shooed her back with the wave of his fingers.

  Confused, she backed up but eyed him suspiciously. He’d never done this before.

  “Since you want to play with yourself and have no qualms about brazenly doing so in my bed with no covers on in the middle of the day, I figured you’ll have no problem with what we’re going to do now.” He cleared his throat, crossing his hairy muscled forearms across his broad chest. “Spread your pussy open so I can see your clit.”

  “Whaaa…?”

  I couldn’t have heard him right.

  “Do it.” He dipped his chin, his eyes darkening with warning.

  Dear God!

  She slipped both hands down to her pussy, each hand pulling a lip aside, hoping she was doing it right.

  He stared at her sex intently. With a shake of his head, he looked up at her. “Spread your legs wider and tilt your hips a smidgen. Proudly display that little clit.”

  “Oh God, I’m going to die. Do I have to do this?” She whined—loudly whined. A squeal of horror rising from her throat.

  “Oh yes. You do actually.” The corner of his lips tipped up in a smirk.

  She grit her teeth. Chelsea knew she deserved punishment. But this? She wasn’t so sure about him taking it to this level. And against her desire to refuse, she spread her legs and tilted her hips forward.

  “That’s it…very nice. Keep those lips spread. Oooo, that’s nice, just like that. I can see it wiggle this way.” He looked like a damn kid in a candy store.

  His sly grin made her want to hit him—hard. But the cool breeze from the room brushing across the exposed sensitive bundle of nerves had her distracted from the urge toward violence, and instead, climbing toward her release.

  “Lightly circle your clit…nice and slow until I say stop.” His hand stroked his hard shaft, and she licked her lips, wishing it was her hand and mouth on the silky length.

  She tried circling it, but the skin around it was dry, causing her finger to stutter around it.

  “Dip your finger into the well, sweets, and bring it up to your clit.”

  Why is this so fucking difficult?

  She did as he requested and circled slowly. Painfully slow. “Oh!” Her hips jerked, and she stilled, closing her eyes for a second against the urge to come.

  “Okay, just once more around and then keep it on display.” His thumb swiped at the pre-come on the tip of his cock, swirling it over the bulbous head.

  Chelsea’s sex clenched, juice seeping from her.

  “If you were a good girl, you’d be sucking this cock already, but, alas, you were a bad girl.” He loudly tsked, reaching down to cup his balls, stroking the silky sac, watching her intently, knowing it would drive her crazy.

  “Emerson!” She bounced on her knees slightly, making sure to keep her pussy spread, but letting her disgust be known.

  “Is that pouting?” He tilted his head at her with feigned shock, his eye wide, but his smirk belied that emotion. “We know the cure for pouting, don’t we, girl?”

  “Yes, Sir. I’m not pouting either. I’m just…I don’t like this.”

  “Good. That’s the point I’m making…I don’t like what I saw before either. But this? I kinda like this.”

  Bastard! That’s what she wanted to shout but her ass was still too sore to take the ass kicking she’d get for saying it!

  “Good restraint. Saying what’s on your mind wouldn’t be prudent, little one.” He nodded his chin toward her. “Time to play with your clit again. Rub it counter clockwise now…that’s it, nice and slow.”

  She circled slowly, skating down to gather more of her juices, and continued to loop around. Her breathing increased, and just when it became too much, he’d halt her with a hand up. This continued several times; during the down time, she’d regulate her breathing, bringing herself back under control.

  “Again. That’s right. Keep going.”

  She struggled harder this time. Her hips jerked and she couldn’t refrain from the occasional “oh” overtaking her.

  “Your chest is a pre tty pink, and your breasts wobble every time your hips thrust. Jesus, girl, if you could see yourself.” He shook his head, rubbing his cock faster and faster. “That cunt of yours is such a bright pink from all the attention. Don’t stop…you keep circling that clit. That’s it…keep going.”

  Panting loudly now, she became concerned that she may come and wondered what the punishment for that would be. She keened loudly, her body trembling and her buttocks clenching. Throb, throb, throb. Her head lolled back and she decided she didn’t care what the punishment was; she’d take whatever he gave as long as she could come.

  “Stop! Pull your hands away. Put them at your sides!”

  Stiffening, she stilled. Her hands quickly dropped to her side, but her hips kept thrusting, her breasts jiggling with the motion. She opened her eyes to find Emerson staring directly at her tits.

  “Dear Lord.” He too dropped his hands. “If I don’t stop, I’m going to come too. Christ, your tits are amazing.” His cocked jerked wildly in front of him.

  He stood abruptly. Her eyes fixated on his dick, and she swore her mouth watered with need and the desire to suck him deeply into her throat. His musky, sweaty smell filled her nostrils, while the wiry hair in his groin tickling her nose had her light headed.

  “Onto the bed. I want you on your back, knees bent, spread wide open for me.”

  She practically ran to the bed, clambering up, doing as directed.

  Oh God. He’s going to suck me off—finally!

  She heard him in the closet, his gorgeous ass spread open toward her. His anus peeping between his buttock, his heavy ball sac dangling and swaying with his movements. She wanted to lick up that divide, rimming his little hole, swirling the tip around the tight pucker while her hands cupped his balls and stroked his cock. Her hips writhed on the bed and she fought off the urge to plunger her finger into her spasming cunt, waiting patiently for his tongue and lips to bring her release.

  But…

  What is that?

  He emerged from the closet, cock jutting forward, holding in his hands leather cuffs and chains. And…Oh God…a riding crop.

  And in his other hand, he had…Jesus! The spreader bar.

  Chapter 7

  “Keep those hips still. You’re not coming for a while, girl. We’ll see if we can deter you from pleasing yourself again.” His knee made the bed dip; climbing up to her, he wrapped a thigh cuff onto her, securing it tightly before securing her calf to the cuff also. He then moved to do the same with her other leg.

  “If you feel any tingling or numbness, you’re to tell me immediately. Understand?”

  “Yes, Sir.” She watched him quietly. “Sir, my leg is numb.”

  “Already?” He moved quickly to her leg, checking the tightness. How could that be?

  She giggled. “I’m joking…checking your reflexes.”

  “Not funny!” He slapped her outer thigh harshly. “Are you satisfied with my response time?”

  “Ow! Yes. A girl has to know.” She pouted at him adorably, but he wouldn’t let her know he thought it was cute.

  He glared at her before moving to finish her other leg. “Widen your legs. Wider.” He watched her spread herself, halting her with a hand to her inner thigh. He then attached the spreader bar, assuring that she’d be spread this wide for the duration.

  He then grabbed the wide cloth they kept between the mattresses, covering her hips with it before tightening it to the eye hooks on the bed box.

  “Oh God. Are you fucking kidding?” Her eyes were wide with shock and sparking with anger. She hated the restraints, liking the ability to move freely.

  He chuckled deep in his chest. “Yep, I’m pretty evil all right. You’ll think twice about messing with me again, girl.” He tugged a little more on the strap at her hips, tightening it also. He then moved to the end of the bed, hands on his hips, staring directly at her pussy. Pleased with how he had her spread open for him, he lifted his gaze to the timid, almost frightened girl looking up at him.

  “Fuck. That cunt is just…gorgeous.” His cock bounced happily in front of him.

  Her juices let down, pooling at her entrance, threatening to drip, but not succeeding.

  “Mmmm, look at this.” He leaned forward, swirling his tongue into her channel.

  “Oh God!” She arched her back slightly, but with her hips restrained, she couldn’t even do that fully. She gripped the sheets in her fist, frustrated at being immobile.

  He pulled away only slightly, and then blew lightly over her clit, circling the air over the length of her. “So pretty, glistening in the daylight. A pinkish-red and covered in your juices.”

  “I think I could die this way…you might hurt me this way, you know.”

  “Nope. Not possible. Stop complaining or I’ll gag you.” He raised an eyebrow at her, pleased with his wily ways.

  “Now it’s my turn to play with you.” He swiped his finger down the length of her, dipping into her. Showing her his finger covered with her sticky wetness, he sniffed it loudly before sucking his finger dry and starting the process over again. This time, he dragged it slowly…ever so slowly up the center of her, circling her clit, playing with the hood, exposing her even more before blowing on the bundle of nerves—again.

  Chelsea growled in her chest, frustrated.

  “I’d watch your attitude, girl. Your little ass is still pretty pink, and you have several marks from the belt showing, so being the very best good girl you can be is important today. Do you agree?” He slipped two fingers into her, lightly stroking her g-spot, pressing ever so slightly, not wanting her to squirt quite yet, but wanting to tease her mercilessly.

  “Yes! Oh God, don’t, please.”

  “Don’t what, baby?” He made a lilt to his voice with feigned ignorance, quirking an eyebrow at her, testing her patience. Although he wouldn’t set out to paddle her again today, if she pushed him far enough, he’d do it, and she knew this too. Pushing her with some teasing made the game all the more fun, watching her restrain her mouth and keep her temper in check. The power trilled through his body.

  “Oh Christ! My g-spot, I…Oh God, I’ll come.”

  “Uh-uh. What happens if you come too soon and without permission?” He ran his manicured nail along the spongy surface, watching her neck lengthen, her hot little cunt milking his fingers tightly.

  “Oh shit! I…ahhh…fuck…oh!”

  Her nipples were tightly furled, the plump globes leaning slightly with gravity toward her sides, a blush forming on the once creamy white skin as they wobbled with her increased breaths. He quickly slipped his fingers out before she came, leaving her bereft of his pleasure.

  “Oh Jesus. I…Emerson…honey, please…I can’t do this.” She opened her now hazel green eyes, staring at him pleadingly, her lips pursed. “I’m sorry. Can we be done…or can I come?”

  She said it so sweetly, like honey dripping off her tongue—like the honey dripping from her cunt onto the bed. Manipulating him was never met with anything positive, and she’d swear she wasn’t doing that—but that voice had him wondering at her methods. He’d relent and assume it was begging for mercy and not manipulating his sweet nature.

  “Nope. Not yet.” He rose from the bed, deserting her momentarily by sitting in a chair just out of reach and out of sight of her pussy, but able to watch her closely. Watch her suffer a bit with her arousal. His balls ached; he’d need relief soon or he’d have a case of blue balls.

  “Really? You’re just going to leave me like this?” An edge of agitation crept into her voice, the anger just under the surface apparently.

  “So you were trying to manipulate me with your sweet voice and pleading?”

  “N-no. I wasn’t doing that, I promise.” She pulled her lip between her teeth.

  Unsure.

  He leaned forward in his chair, clasping his hand in front of him, narrowing his gaze at her. “You wouldn’t be foolish enough to lie to me while your bottom is still sore and you’re spread open like a Thanksgiving turkey, would you, my dear?”

  She blinked several times quickly. “N-no, Sir.”

  “Because if I thought you were manipulating me, you’d be punished with an enema, wearing a large plug tonight and going to bed hungry.” He stared at her, making her uncomfortable, until she shifted her eyes away from him.