50 SHADES OF SINFUL PRESSURE
“Every time I knelt in your confessional, I was wet for you. Imagining you breaking. Imagining this.”
He made a sound like a wounded animal and lunged. His mouth crashed into mine, hungry and desperate. This wasn’t a gentle priest’s kiss. It was raw, teeth clashing, tongues fighting. His big hand gripped the back of my neck, holding me in place while he claimed me. I tasted the wine from Mass on his tongue and moaned into his mouth.
Julian’s other hand shoved my dress up to my waist. He tore my panties down my legs in one rough motion, the lace ripping slightly. Cool air hit my dripping pussy, and I shivered.