Cardinal Sinner (Divine Domination Book 2)

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Cardinal Sinner (Divine Domination Book 2) Page 9

by Megan Michaels


  “I’ve been wanting to hold you all day.” He shut the door, grabbing her, his kiss punishing in its vigor.

  She stared up into his dark eyes, the rugged square jaw so common with her country, as was the rumbling, grizzled voice and body build. In his arms, she felt safe and secure; nothing could or would touch her. He wouldn’t allow it.

  “You have too many clothes. Strip.”

  The windows were open. “Let me close the blinds.” Crossing the room, she tilted the wand, shuttering the light out.

  “Right there, disrobe.”

  “Are you taking your clothes off too?” She raised her finger at him, skimming off her pants and panties as one, stepping out of the puddled cloth at her feet, her shirt resting just above her bare pussy.

  A low growl emanated from his chest. “Turn.”

  She pivoted, fighting against the urge to clench her cheeks, wringing her hands in front of her.

  My ass is so big. Does he hate my ass? Does it matter? You’re leaving him.

  “Your ass slays me. Every. Fucking. Time. And, right now, your shirt is resting at the top of the crack of your ass. I must say, Little Elinka, I’m not sure if I want to fuck it, spank it, or…just bite it.”

  The rustle of material had her taking a peek at him from over her shoulder, only to find him struggling with the buttons and quickly slipping his cassock off onto the floor, standing only in his currently tented boxers, his cock pressing against the thin material.

  Eliska gasped, “Cardinal Petr! What would the Pope say about you not wearing your undergarment?” She laughed behind her hand, her other pointing toward his protruding member.

  He stalked slowly toward her, swiveling her body, bracing her hip with his left forearm. “Little Dragon, you’ve apparently forgotten how vulnerable—and deliciously sexy—you are with no panties.”

  The loud crack of his hand slapping her bottom had her rising on her tip toes, gripping his arm tightly. “Ow! Oh, shit!”

  “Oh shit, indeed.” He rubbed, squeezing her ass, his left hand cupping and dipping into the purse of her sex. “So wet.” Petr inhaled deeply.

  With the confidence one feels with a lover, she released his thick, long cock, the heft of it resting on the palm of her hand.

  Stepping out of his boxers, he captured her mouth, devouring it, weaving his hand in her hair, fisting it tightly.

  The burn in her scalp had her moaning into his mouth. One hand stroked him while her other cupped his balls, her fingers stroking the fine hairs of his perineum. She couldn’t help but giggle when his body jerked violently.

  “You laugh now, but when I come all over you instead of in your pussy, you’ll be the first one whining, won’t you, girl?”

  “I’ll just get you to bring me off another way.” She flashed him a wicked smile, pushing him back hard enough to see him stumble a step. She laughed as she ran to her bedroom, giving him chase.

  “Now you’ve done it!” He didn’t run, but she could hear his heavy foot falls on the wooden floor, stomping toward her room.

  Eliska threw herself onto the bed, laughing uncontrollably, bouncing and jumping on her knees, anxious trepidation coursing through her.

  When he filled her doorway, flinging the drawer of her nightstand open, extracting a small, round (and very wicked) paddle, she screeched, leaping toward the other side of the king sized bed, hoping to escape once again.

  His large hand grabbed her ankle and dragged her back to him, leaving her face down, her ass exposed and defenseless. “No! Petr, no!”

  “Oh, yes. You knew when you shoved me what the consequences would be. Meet your comeuppance, girl.” He twirled the paddle in his hand, waggling his eyebrows at her before crashing the wood onto her helpless derriere.

  It wasn’t really punishment, so he paused between smacks to give her a bad girl lecture or talk dirty. “Your hot little cunt is dripping onto the sheets. Maybe your punishment will be to lick them clean.”

  Her hips ground into the sheets, the lips of her sex gliding against each other, slick with her juices.

  Resuming her funishment, the paddle cracked against her backside, focusing the majority of them on her tender sit spots. She’d feel them tomorrow at work, which she knew was his intention. She did her best to rise up onto one hip, shielding at least one of her cheeks, only to find out that he still had a firm grip on her ankle, allowing him to twist her back into the prone position.

  “Bad girl. Who decides when, where and how you’re punished?”

  “Ow! You do, Sir.”

  The next swats were on her thighs, and these were punishing and hard. Her free leg kicked wildly, catching his body. She wasn’t sure where, but she heard him groan in pain. Part of her felt bad, but that was quickly followed with satisfaction that she’d given him a fraction of the pain she was receiving.

  “Keep it up and you’ll be tied to the bed.”

  The paddle continued its march, her cries becoming pleas for mercy, but before she succumbed to tears, he stopped.

  “Do you think you can behave enough to be fucked, or should I just continue beating your ass?”

  Eliska giggled into the sheets, her hips swaying with excitement. “I’ll be a good girl, Daddy.”

  “I know I shouldn’t like when you call me that, but I really do.” The love in his voice…and happiness…tore at her heart.

  Releasing her ankle, he flipped her over, straddling her legs, his cock pressing between her labia. He stared into her eyes. She couldn’t read his facial expression. His eyes moved to every feature of her face and appeared bright with tears.

  Is he crying? Why?

  “Say it again.” He kissed her nose. “Call me Daddy again.”

  Swallowing past the lump growing in her throat, she whispered, “I love you, Daddy. I’ll be your good girl…Daddy.”

  He kissed her languidly, leaving small pecks down her neck before engulfing her breast with his mouth, sucking her deep, the pull on her womb instantaneous. She tilted her hips up, pressing into his body, his cock teasing at her entrance but refusing to slip inside, tormenting her with just the head.

  “I need to fuck you, and it’s going to be fast.”

  “Good. I don’t want slow. Make it hurt.”

  His chest heaved and his breathing became heavier. A low rumble in his throat sent her clit to throbbing. “Don’t forget, you asked for it, little dragon.”

  She swore he impaled her, doing his best to split her open. He braced himself on his hands, his groin grinding over her pubic bone. He pounded his cock into her, banging up against the mouth of her womb.

  “Oh shit.” She elongated her neck, her head tossing back, her fists clawing at the sheets. Her orgasm was right there and she wasn’t sure if she’d survive it or not.

  Petr gripped her calves, pushing her legs up to her chest, the position awarding him more depth, which he took full advantage of. He battered her sex while her hands scratched and clawed at his shoulders.

  “I’m coming, girl.”

  “Me too!” She screamed before—but almost in unison with—his shout. Both of them battered each other with their thrusts, his come filling her, the warm sticky fluid seeping from her, leaking down to her asshole. The sheets were quickly damp under her buttocks, the smell of sex filling her small bedroom.

  He dropped his head onto her shoulder, panting loudly, dripping sweat onto her. The convulsing tremors still shook her body, and she moaned with each new quake, squeezing and milking his semi-flaccid cock until one last seismic shake had her hips flexing so roughly that his sticky, hot dick slipped from him with a shudder.

  Her hips refused to hold still even though the rest of her had collapsed into a semi-coma, the pressure and arousal climbing incrementally.

  “Uh-uh. You need to stop—I can’t survive another one. Hell, I’m not even sure I can perform for another one. I think my guy is done for a while.”

  “My old man.” She brushed her hand along his face. His eyes were still closed, hi
s hair damp, curling near his ear. Whispering, she said, “My Daddy.”

  Petr whispered back almost reverently, “Always.”

  Chapter 12

  Eliska sat in the bed, still naked and hugging her bent legs with the sheet tucked up under her arms, watching her lover dress in his black cardinal simar; she loved running her finger along the red buttons and piping, the silk so smooth and…sexy.

  “Petr, I have something we need to talk about.”

  He stopped tying the red sash at his waist, his eyebrows furrowing. “This sounds serious. Is everything okay?”

  “I’m not sure. Yes. Well, maybe not.” She bit on her lip.

  Why didn’t I practice this speech ahead of time?

  “Just say it, baby. I’m listening. We’ll fix it, whatever it is.”

  “Going home always does this. I found myself—”

  Petr’s phone rang. Rolling his eyes, he looked at the screen frowning before swiping over it to the right. “Hello? Yes. Oh no?”

  He sat on the bed, staring into his lap, his head in his hand.

  “Are we sure? Did he go to the hospital? What do you need me to do? His Holiness said this?”

  His hand gripped her knee so tightly that she stiffened.

  This cannot be good.

  “I’ll be there soon. I’m outside the City right now. I’ll do whatever the Pope wishes. Thank you, Carlos.”

  Petr clicked his phone off. Staring silently at the floor, he lifted his head slowly, his eyes brimming with tears.

  “Oh my God, Petr. What’s wrong? Did someone die?” She threw her arms around him, holding him tightly.

  “Yes.” His voice shook.

  “Yes?” Pulling away, she wiped the tears from his face, her own tracking down her cheeks. She’d never seem him this upset. “Who died?”

  “I still can’t believe it. Cardinal Rossi. Massive heart attack. They found him in his office. The ambulance was called; he was pronounced dead at the scene.”

  Eliska gasped, “Oh, no!” Her body began to tremble. She’d just seen him; said goodbye to him at the end of the day. He seemed tired, but they’re all tired.

  “I just met with him this afternoon. We discussed our trip, and he told me that His Holiness wants to promote me to a Cardinal Dean position at the Gregorian University.” He shook his head. “And now they want me to be promoted to a position of Cardinal Bishop, a senior Cardinal position.”

  “Oh, Petr, that’s awesome! Congratulations!” She held his face with both hands, kissing him gently, choking on her sobs. “I just can’t believe he’s gone.”

  He stood abruptly, wiping his face, looking disoriented. “I…I have to go…they…the Pope needs me. I’ll call you when I can.” He started to leave the room but turned back. “Oh, you were telling me something.”

  “It’s nothing. Nothing at all. You go; you’re needed. I’ll be here when you call or come over. I love you, Petr.”

  “I love you too, Eliska.” He kissed her briefly, opening the door, pivoting to kiss her again. “Life is so unpredictable…and short.”

  “Yes. Go! I’ll be here.” After he rushed through the door, she mumbled, “as always.”

  Chapter 13

  Petr filed into St. Peter’s Basilica. There was a long procession; the Cardinals were a sea of red following His Holiness, who, conversely, was decked in pure white. Cardinal Rossi’s body would be displayed for viewing for two days. The faithful in Rome and, in particular, the Vatican City would be making pilgrimage to honor the holy man before his burial.

  The cardinals filed into the wooden pews, lining both sides of the aisle on either side of the wood and gold casket. The Pope swung the silver urn, the white furls of smoke circling around him, before climbing toward the ceilings, filling the area with the familiar scent of incense.

  How many funerals have I attended? And why do I find such comfort in that smell?

  He solemnly continued swinging the incense around the casket before handing it off to one of the priests and then grasping the long silver-handled implement to sprinkle holy water, spraying the liquid over the white linen. At his feet lay his three-pointed biretta and the cross from his bedroom that he prayed to daily .

  Petr looked up above Cardinal Rossi’s casket. Suspended from a lantern shaped light was his red, wide-brimmed galero, the lonesome hat yet another reminder that his friend would no longer walk on this earth.

  The traditions of the Roman Catholic Church helped ease the pain. Familiar songs such as “Here I Am Lord” were playing, bringing comfort to mourning souls.

  Scanning the thousands present, he quickly—and easily—found his girl. Eliska had been more than accommodating, quietly listening, offering assistance when necessary, making phone calls, coordinating flowers, music, choirs, among dozens of little details that she made look so easy.

  Her eyes sparkled when she met his gaze, obviously happy that he sought her out, even amidst this sad time. At times, he found himself amazed how the smallest things brought contentment to her. She didn’t require gifts or dates as many of the girls did, even girls that were dating the priests and cardinals—maybe more so—required constant affirmation and tokens to keep them silent and sexually available to the men of the cloth.

  But not his girl.

  His girl only needed him. His undivided attention, a touch of his hand, a spanking, a slow kiss. Looking across the aisle, Cardinal Rossi’s woman was dressed in black from the lacy scarf on her head to the black shoes. She’d been with him for years. Rumor said he’d met her over twenty-five years earlier when he was first sent to Rome.

  What kind of life is this for a woman?

  She’d spent the latter part of her life with a man who could never be hers. A man she loved so deeply that her faith or a yearning for righteousness couldn’t tear her away from him. She tried many times just since he’d been at the Apostolic Palace, but her devotion dragged her back—reluctantly—to cleave to him.

  And now she’d be alone. At least in marriage, she would have a life insurance policy, pension, family. A woman in her sixties had the possibility of living twenty more years, but would she find fulfillment…or want to live that long?

  It was at that moment that Petr remembered that Eliska had wanted to talk that night. She hadn’t pulled away from him since their first year together. Losing her would destroy him; he couldn’t have her walk away leaving him with a life of sadness and despair.

  Smiling to himself, he had no doubt what was needed to assure her happiness—a compromise of sorts, but definitely a resolution.

  Communion ended. The Cardinals marched toward the casket to pay their last respects before the recessional out of the Basilica.

  The choir sang along with the pipe organ playing “Be Not Afraid.” Petr swallowed past the lump in his throat. He’d miss the long walks through the Vatican Gardens with Cardinal Rossi.

  Goodbye, my friend. Until we meet again.

  Eliska pushed her breasts—crammed would be a better word—into her bra.

  Looks like I’d better go shopping.

  She sighed loudly, throwing a sweatshirt over her head, pulling it down to cover her hips in her yoga pants. No panties.

  : Put your largest plug in, the vibrating one, and turn it on high every ten minutes, leaving it on for one solid minute. No coming.

  : Yes, Sir. I’ll do my best.

  : Be sure you do. I’ll know if you came.

  : I know. ::::sigh::::

  : No sass! Oh, and if I find you wearing panties, you’ll be paddled.

  : Yes, Sir.

  Not wanting to poke the bear, she dressed appropriately and had staved off an orgasm. Surely it was an Act of God that had prevented an earth-shattering release. With small, mincing steps, she shuffled to the kitchen, leaning over the counter to read from her Kindle, unable to sit with the large, protruding insertable.

  Lost in her most recent erotic romance story, a pregnant woman escaping, leavi
ng town without telling the baby’s daddy that she was even pregnant, let alone where she’d run away to, but he found her. His love for her, and knowing every little detail about her, helped him find her, proclaiming his undying love for her—and their child.

  Dabbing at the tears coursing down her cheeks, she sniffled, rapt with the story.

  “I see you were a good girl.”

  “Oh shit!” She jumped, the twist of the plug sparking the nerve endings, the sphincter clenching the plug tightly, besides the fact that she hadn’t expected him to just walk in frightening the living hell out of her.

  “I scared you, I’m sorry.” He kissed the back of her neck, his tongue licking behind her ear before delving the tip into the channel, her sex clamping down. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of her pants, slipping them over her backside and the plug, settling them mid thigh.

  “Stay bent over. Don’t move.” He reached around her to grasp the remote, turning it on. “I’m assuming you missed some precious time reading your little smut book.”

  “It’s not smut! It’s romance. There’s a plot, conflict, resolution, and a beautiful happily ever after.” She shot him an angry pout over her shoulder causing him to raise one eyebrow in response.

  “Do you think that’s wise given your position?” He slapped her bottom so hard her hips smashed into the edge of the counter top, jarring the pacifier in her anus, the violent reverberations sending tremors throughout her bowels and belly.

  “Ow! Okay, okay.”

  “So while this toy increases your arousal, tell me about the plot in your book.”

  “Uh...” she groaned, quickly grinding her clit on the hard Formica, the act of defiance causing his hand to beat out a rhythm on her ass, leaving her cheeks burning. “Sorry! Okay. Uhm…the woman finds out she’s pregnant, and she’s afraid…Oh God, Petr.” She dropped her head onto the cool counter to gain composure. “And she doesn’t tell him…and runs away…but he loves her…and remembers what she likes and what makes her happy…and he finds her, vowing he’ll love her and his baby forever.” Her hips involuntarily rocked in a spasmodic fashion. “Oh, Petr. Please!”

 

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