The Church (The Cloister Trilogy 3)

My arousal twists tighter and tighter as I try to focus on him. Bobbing up and down, sucking and licking, I use one hand at his base, working it in tandem with my mouth. His hips rock up to meet me, and he matches my rhythm. When he presses his tongue inside me, my thighs shudder and I stop sucking. I want more. I want all of him inside me. Maybe it will make us whole again, hold us together despite the ground fracturing beneath our feet.

“Please.” I kiss down the side of his cock then drag my tongue back up. “Please,” I whimper again.

“Fuck,” he grates out, then pushes me off him.

In a quick blur of movement, he’s behind me, his hands on my ass. “Spread for me.”

On my knees, I scoot them out, and he rubs his wet cock head up and down my slick skin.

He drags his fingers along one of the belt lines. “I hate his marks on you.”

“I hate them, too.”

Bending over, he bites my ear. “We have to make it look like I’m reaming your sweet little ass.”

I know he’s taking an even bigger risk, but I can’t go another second without him inside me—that bond that I only share with him.

He positions his cock and pushes forward. I grip the sheets and let my head drop, hanging between my shoulders. Sliding farther, my wetness urging him onward, he seats himself inside me. I curl my toes and let out a hard breath. So full but needing more, I move forward and then press back into him.

“Fuck.” He groans and bites my upper back. When he pulls out again, he slams home. He doesn’t hold back, fucking me hard, destroying and rebuilding me with each impact. I bury my face in the pillow, crying out my pleasure as he reaches around me, his fingers playing my clit.

My breaths come in short bursts, everything inside me tightening around the single point that his fingers stroke. He’s relentless, his cock filling me perfectly, his sweat-slicked skin slapping against mine. I press my forehead into the pillow and use my hands on the headboard to push back.

He groans and slams me harder, my resistance spurring him faster. I love every hit, the sounds, the sweat, being full of Adam.

“I can’t—” I don’t know what words I was going to say next, but my orgasm rushes at me in a blinding haze. It hits me from nowhere and everywhere, my body folding in and expanding outward on a streaking blaze of pleasure. Waves roll over me, and I can barely breathe. My hips lock, my breath stops, and all I can feel is him—us. Nothing exists outside of us.

He slams hard a few more times, then pulls out. His come coats my ass, the warm spurts strong, his grunts tortured and erotic. My legs slide apart farther, and I lie all the way on the bed. He lets up on my hip, his palm massaging the spot where he’d been squeezing.

I want to tell him I love him. I can’t. Not here. Not now. It isn’t safe. Down from the high, I realize this was a mistake. What if he gets caught? Fear filters through, and I turn to look at him.

He gives me a crisp nod and steps off the bed. With a hobbling gait that raises plenty of questions in my mind, he goes into the en suite and returns with a washcloth. He silently cleans me off, then lies next to me.

I throw the sheet over us and snuggle up to him. After several long beats of silence, my breathing returns to normal, and I feel the danger in the air. It coats everything like soot. We shouldn’t have done this.

“Are you all right?” He tucks my hair behind my ear.

“Me? What’s wrong with your feet?”

His gaze flickers to my lips. “Does it matter? We only have a little time left.”

“Yes, it matters.” I lean in and bite his ear. “Tell me.”

He slides one hand down to my hip, squeezing. “It’s not a big thing. I just … I just lost a couple of toes to frostbite.”

I wince. He suffered to save me, to keep me out of Evan’s clutches, and he’s paid so dearly. I close my eyes and nuzzle against his neck. “I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t really need them. They were sort of extra anyway, right? You just won’t be able to do ‘This Little Piggy’ on me like you’ve dreamed about.” He kisses my crown, and I smile at his ridiculous words. His sense of humor hides behind a scornful exterior, but it’s there—warm and rich. I wish there was more time for us so I could explore all his nooks and crannies, the facets that make up his personality.

His kiss lingers. “You have to go soon, but I need you to know some things. Stay away from the church service on Sunday. Shit will be going down. Can you do that?”