Page 68 of Captive Rival: Armani
“Yes. I’ve never seen one before. It was really beautiful.”
“It was,” I agree, acting like this event is the only thing on my mind—and like I don’t know that Candi is doing the same exact thing.
In reality, we’re both carrying the burden of our own secrets and tensions, not to mention the constant stress of this looming mafia war. It’s fucking exhausting. And the only thing that would make me feel even marginally better isn’t logistically possible at the moment. Unless I snuck away from this reception to pull my wife into a closet.
Or a confessional.
Like the one across the church, to the right of the sanctuary.
Pausing outside the exit doors, I listen for sounds coming from anywhere inside the church. The priest has left to join the family, and all the guests are gone as well. We’re alone.Well now.
Spinning Candi around, away from the doors, I lead her past the pews and toward the ornately carved, dark wood confessional booth.
“Where are we—”
“Shh.”
I open the door and push her inside. Then I follow, closing the door behind us.
She turns to face me in the close, dim space, but I don’t give her a chance to speak.
Taking her face in my hands, I press my lips to hers and shove her back against the wall. Her chest stalls with a hitched breath, and then she’s devouring me in kind. Hot need races through me with a demanding pulse. I want to consume her inch by inch.
“Do you have something to confess, Candi? Something that’s weighing on your mind?” I whisper in between kisses.
“I—I don’t know.”
Moving my lips over her throat, down her neck, I nibble the soft skin there while grabbing handfuls of her skirt and bunching it up around her waist. She’s wearing a thong, barely a scrap of fabric between me and what I want most. Working my zipper, I hitch her leg around my hip, pull her panties to the side, and slide straight up into her. God, she feels good. Slick and tight, like a hot, hungry mouth.
I start pumping, shallow and fast, my toes curling inside my polished leather shoes.
A harsh little gasp escapes her. “We’re in a church!”
Fucking right we are. But despite her scolding, she’s meeting me thrust for thrust, her eyes rolling back in her head with pure lust. She’s going to clean away my sins right now. She’s going to take them all. I move faster, plunging deeper, ramming her into the wall. Her arm tightens around my neck, her free hand reaching down to cup my balls. It’s a struggle to keep myself from groaning.
“Have you sinned?” I growl against her ear. “Have you been a bad girl?”
She murmurs something that might be an affirmative, but I can’t tell. The liquid velvet feel of her clasped around me is robbing me of my ability to think clearly. Supporting her with one arm around her waist, I bring her other leg around me, too, so I can thrust even deeper. Her knees dig into my sides as she gives herself up to the pure, sweet fucking.
“Oh my God,” she whispers, her tongue flicking over the soft skin behind my earlobe. “God yes.”
“You’re taking the Lord’s name in vain,” I scold, slamming into her so hard that the confessional wall trembles.
“Fuck yes,” she corrects herself.
“You’re still a bad girl,” I pant.
“Mmm. I sinned the moment I agreed to our first date. Look what you’ve done to me.”
“We’re all sinners,” I tell her. “Now it’s time for you to atone.”
“How? I want to be absolved.”
Leaning so close that my lips brush her ear, I say, “Come for me. Come for me, Candi. Come for me, wife.”
I say it over and over until I send her over the edge. She whispers my name as she comes, wetness gushing out of her, spurring me on. But I don’t last much longer. The feel of her pussy contracting on my cock pulls me right into the orgasm along with her.
Covering her mouth with mine, I muffle both of our groans as I explode inside of her, spilling my seed with abandon.
