TASTEFULLY INDECENT
The wet slap of skin on skin echoed through the empty church, profane and perfect.
"Harder," she demanded. "Make me feel every broken promise."
He angled deeper, grinding against her clit with every plunge. His hand found her throat—not choking, just holding, possessive. She clenched around him, milking his cock, eyes rolling back.
"Come inside me," she begged. "Fill your sinner. Mark me as yours."
The words undid him. He slammed home one final time, cock pulsing as he emptied into her—hot, thick ropes painting her walls. She shattered again, cunt spasming, nails drawing blood down his shoulders as she wailed his name like a hymn.