Lust: Chapter 23
“I can’t believe you know Vanessa Gallo,” Jake says.
This outside time is a welcome distraction from the stuffy auditorium at this never-ending conference. Brandon has been speaking all day, and we’ve barely exchanged two words.
My alone time gave me the opportunity to get to know Jake, another pastor’s PA. He’s charismatic, easygoing, and a fantastic distraction from thoughts of the coming night.
Which has my stomach fluttering uncontrollably.
“Not just know her,” I say. “She’s my best friend’s baby sister. I literally grew up with her.”
He shakes his head slowly, his eyes wide. “I can’t believe that. I’m seriously in love with her.”
I snort out a laugh. “Of course you are. Every deconstructing Christian who’s ever opened TikTok is in love with her. But she’s more than taken. Her boyfriend would fight you.”
He narrows his eyes, still smiling. “I’ve seen her boyfriend in her videos, and he seems like such a tool. He doesn’t deserve her. I could make her so much happier.”
I burst into laughter. “Oh, is that right? Please tell me how you could make this complete stranger happier than she is right now.”
He grins, but just as he opens his mouth to speak, a shadow appears behind me.
Brandon.
When I turn around, his face is like thunder, brows furrowed and lips set in a firm line. He’s staring at Jake and me. “Did you take notes?” His voice is curt.
I blink at him. “Yeah, why?”
“May I see them?”
His tone is brusque, lacking any warmth. Why the hell are these notes so important? He should know I’m a good notetaker. I have a history degree, damn it.
Oh no. Is he regretting our agreement to live like there’s no tomorrow?
“Sure,” I mumble, pulling out my laptop and flipping it open. It takes me a moment to find the document with the notes. When I hand it to him, he doesn’t look at me, his focus solely on the laptop.
“Excuse us,” Brandon says without looking Jake’s way. “I need to speak to Mariana privately.”
Jake raises his eyebrows but shrugs. As he walks away, I turn my attention back to Brandon. His posture is stiff.
“What’s wrong?” I finally ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Meet me in my cabin. Two minutes.”
With that he turns around and walks away, and my stomach muscles tie into knots. There’s no mistaking what he wants.
Sex in the middle of the day. With Brandon. At a pastor conference.
I want to squeal in delight, but instead, I take a deep breath and start counting. After what feels like an eternity, I start walking in the direction of his bungalow. When I finally reach the front door, I pause, a smile tugging at my lips. I grip the bodice of my dress and pull it down, revealing more of my cleavage.
I push open the door, and there he stands with his back to me. He looks so big and intimidating.
I love it.
“Well.” My voice is breathy. “What did you need to…talk to me about?”
He turns around, and his dark gaze is so intense my legs turn into jelly. “We’re not going to do much talking.”
I smile. “We’re not?”
“I wouldn’t be smiling, Mariana. You’ve been a bad, bad girl.”
Heat shoots into my groin. “Have I?”
“Yes.”
After shutting the door, I step toward him, and his tall form looms over me, and that fire in his eyes sends shivers through my body. “What are you going to do to me?”
He takes my hand and leads me to the bed. “Punish you, of course.”
My heart pounds. “Really?”
“Yes. You’ve been begging me to spank you.”
“What did I do?”
After sitting on the bed, he lifts me up and places me on his lap. His big fingers brush over my cleavage. “You’ve been distracting me all day. With this dress.” His eyes narrow on my chest. “Your bra is showing. You pulled it down.”
I nuzzle my head against his shoulder. “Maybe.”
“No.” He grips my waist and pushes me back. “No cuddling. Not yet. Not until you’ve had your punishment.”
“Is it a sin to wear a formfitting dress?”
“Not a sin.” His voice is hushed. “But you disobeyed me.”
“How?”
“I told you I needed to focus on being a pastor today. You’ve been distracting me on purpose.”
I grin. “Have I?”
He hums in agreement. “And not just with this dress. You were shamelessly flirting, too.”
I gasp out a laugh. “Flirting? With Jake, you mean?”
He grabs me by the chin, narrowing his eyes on my face, and heat shoots into my gut. “You know you were.”
Oh my God, is he really jealous? How absurd.
How delightful.
“So that’s why you interrupted us and all but ordered him to leave?”
“He needs to know that he’s not allowed to touch what’s mine.” He lifts me in the air and sets my belly on his thighs. As he presses his hand on my lower back, the ache between my legs intensifies, and I groan.
“Don’t move,” he growls.
“Oh God.”
His hand roams over my back, slipping under my dress and cupping my butt. “You’re not going to be able to sit comfortably after this.”
Liquid heat pools into my belly. “I’m sorry for flirting.”
“It’s too late for sorry.”
He pushes my panties down to my ankles, and cool air hits my pussy. I shiver. A moment later, a loud crack resounds in the room, and numbness spreads over my ass. I suck in a breath as tingling heat spreads over my skin.
“Count,” he orders.
An almost hysterical giggle bursts from my chest. “This is a really intense spanking, Boss.”
“An intense spanking for an intense woman.”
I hear the smile in my voice, and warmth fills my chest. I breathe deeply. “One.”
Crack.
“Two.”
Crack.
“Three.”
“Good girl.” He rubs his hand gently over my burning cheeks. “You’re doing such a good job, Mariana. But are you going to obey me?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Crack. “That was four.”
He rubs his palm over my burning skin. “You’re getting one more, but it’s going to be really hard. I’m going to give you a chance to take some deep breaths. I’ll pet you while you do it.”
His fingers stroke into my hair, and I take the deep breaths, though I don’t really need them. A warm smile tugs at my lips. God, I love him like this. What would it be like if we had this relationship all the time?
A loud smack echoes through the bathroom, distracting me from a fantasy that probably wouldn’t do me any good anyway.
“You did so well,” he says softly, “taking your punishment.
I smile. “Thank you, Sir.”
He groans as he slides two fingers into my soaking wet pussy. “My good girl wants to be taken right here, doesn’t she?”
“Yes.” I moan as he works his fingers in and out of my pussy. “Yes.”
He removes his fingers suddenly. “Not now. We need to head back.”
My eyes grow wide as he lifts me up and sets me between his legs. “We have at least another five minutes. Let’s just have a quickie.”
He grins. “Oh, no. When I finally get my cock in you again, I’m going to enjoy it. You’ll have to wait.”
I glare at him. “You’re trying to torture me.”
He shrugs one shoulder. “Like you’ve been torturing me since the moment you started working for me.”
Brandon
Warm contentment seeps through my veins as I gaze out over the assembly of pastors. Laughter and chatter fills the room. They’re just as glad as I am that the last conference of the day is now over, and that it’s time for relaxation.
I won’t be relaxing a bit. Not when I have the whole night with her.
The whole fucking night.
How is it possible that my body is so light and unburdened? I’m technically deceiving all the people in the room. They’d never think that the pastor who just spoke about Paul’s sexual ethic would turn around and fuck his young PA in his cabin afterward.
It’s like I’ve been living in a dreamworld these past twelve hours.
I don’t want to leave it.
As I descend the steps of the stage, my gaze immediately finds Mariana. She’s sitting in the front row, tapping away on her laptop, taking the last notes for the day. The soft glow from the screen illuminates her face. Her dress has slipped off one shoulder and one thought comes to mind.
Mine.
This perfect woman is all mine.
As I approach her, she looks up from her laptop. “Hey, Pastor.” There’s that saucy lilt to her voice that used to drive me insane.
Before she was mine.
“You’ve been sitting for a long time.” A deep, satisfied possessiveness wraps around me like a blanket. I lean forward and whisper in her ear. “Are you sore?”
“I am, actually.” Her eyes narrow. “My butt’s sore from all the…sitting.”
A deep laughter is pulled out of my chest.
She narrows her eyes, mouthing, “Kinky bastard.”
I’m not even worried that someone around us might be watching closely enough to pick up what’s going on.
I care for nothing but her.
How will I ever give this up?
She swivels her hips, grinding into my cock as she rides me. I grip her hips tightly, thrusting upward to get more of her.
Fuck, I need more.
I could have her for eternity and never be satisfied.
“Kiss me,” I command, and she smiles dreamily before leaning forward.
As our lips touch, her body melts into mine. She runs her hands along my back, exploring my skin. When I pull her closer, her chest moves rapidly against mine. “Are you tired, love?” I ask.
“No,” she pants.
I smile. “Liar.”
She laughs breathily. “I’m tired, but I don’t want to stop.”
That frantic, fevered tone… I recognize it immediately, because it’s how I feel, too. We only have a few hours before the sun comes up.
It will all be over soon, and I want to weep at the unfairness of it. Why God? Why did you allow this to happen? It’s misery to experience bliss like this, only to be forced to give it all up.
I need to extend it as long as I can.
I move my hands down to her hips, and in one swift motion, I flip her beneath me. I reach for her wrists and pin them above her head. “I’ll do all the work from now on.”
She smiles sweetly, and my heart swells. Oh fuck, this feels like love.
It can’t be love. Not that kind of love, at least. Sin and true love can’t coexist, and everything about this situation is all wrong. She’s my best friend’s daughter. She’s my intern. Having her long term would mean losing everything I hold dear.
But in this moment, it feels worth it.
“You don’t have to.” She reaches between our bodies to cup my balls. “I want to make you happy.”
I hiss at the exquisite pleasure. “I could already die of happiness.” Her lips open, and I thrust my tongue deep into her mouth.
More.
I need so much more.
My fingers dig into the flesh of her ass as I roll my hips against hers. She groans and I feel the vibration deep inside of her. I lick my tongue along her neck, nibbling as I move toward her collarbone. I move my mouth to the spot between her throat and her shoulder, sucking hard. Her pulse flickers against my tongue, and it feels like my own. Like her body is mine.
Mine.
Oh fuck, she feels like she belongs to me and only me. How will I ever be able to stand by while another man touches her?
I see myself sitting impotently across the table from her at a family dinner. Another man is beside her, his arm draped over her shoulder. His fingers idly stroke this very spot of skin that is in this moment so dear to me.
This is heavenly hell.
I thread my fingers through her hair before gripping hard. I pound my hips into hers, my balls slapping against her skin.
“Oh God,” she moans, her body trembling.
“You’ll take all of me, Mariana. This pussy is mine.”
“Yes,” she pants. She lowers her chin as those wicked dark eyes stare up at me. “And your cock is mine.”
Pleasure shoots through my veins. Oh fuck, she’s so perfect.
“Yes, sweet girl. I’m entirely yours.”
And I mean it.
I really mean it.
“Then come for me,” she whispers.
The words hit me like a meteor. I pump into her one final time before I explode. As wave after wave of ecstasy ripples through my body, the warmth of my come shoots out of me, but not far enough.
I wish I weren’t wearing a condom.
I want to fill her with my come. I want to put a baby in her, watch her belly grow with a part of me.
Holy fucking shit, this is madness.
Exquisite madness.
Mariana
The soft purple morning light peeks through the slits in the blinds, illuminating the room. I’m sitting at the small vanity, running a brush through my long, tangled hair.
Tangled because he had those big hands all over it.
Brandon stirs behind me, his sleepy groan resonating in the quiet room. He rises from the bed, the sheet slipping off his muscled chest. After walking over to me, he leans against the wall, watching me with curious eyes. “What are you doing?” His voice raspy from sleep.
“Just taking care of this now.” I divide my hair into sections. “I know I’ll be too tired to get ready in the morning.” A naughty smile tugs at my lips. “It’s morning now, actually.”
He walks behind me, and those pensive dark eyes study my hands. “Can I do it?”
My reflection shows huge eyes. “You want to French braid my hair?”
He nods. “You have such beautiful hair.” He brushes a loose strand off my shoulder and then leans down and kisses my neck. “And neck. I love your neck. I couldn’t stop staring at it when you organized my bookshelf.”
Warmth fills me everywhere. “Alright.” My voice is strangely hoarse. “I’ll tell you how to do it.”
He nods sharply and steps directly behind my back. “Command me, my queen.”
“Okay, it’s not easy on your first try. Your fingers have to do multiple things at once.”
He grins. “I’m good with my fingers.”
I cock a brow. “Let’s see how good you are, Pastor.”
I show him how to divide the hair into sections and then intertwine them. He’s quiet, focused on the movements of my hands with a furrowed brow, looking thoroughly absorbed, and something about it is achingly sweet, making my chest tight.
“That seems pretty straightforward,” he says.
I smile. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
He doesn’t waste a moment before reaching out for my head. His fingers are surprisingly agile for his first time braiding, and the rhythmic pull on my hair is soothing.
“You have so much hair,” he says.
I snort. “It’s my one beauty.”
His hands grow still. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
He sounds so sweetly indignant that the ache in my chest grows sharper. “I’m not trying to fish for compliments, but it was hard growing up with someone who looks like Sofia. Every guy I knew had a crush on her.”
He frowns as he continues his task. “You’re every bit as beautiful as her, if not more so.”
When I snort, he tugs at my hair. “I mean it, young lady.”
“And yet you started courting her. Not me.”
His eyes soften as he stares down at my hair. “I didn’t start courting her because I thought she was more beautiful than you. You weren’t even an option.”
“Why not?” I ask a touch too sharply.
For a moment, he quietly works on my hair, but I know he’s thinking of the right response.
The right response to placate me.
“Don’t say I’m too young,” I add. “That’s bullshit. I’m only six years younger than Sofia.”
He chuckles humorlessly. “Only six years.”
“I’m not some naïve Christian girl who thinks getting married will solve all her problems. I’m probably more mature than Sofia in that respect. The church tried to groom me to become a man’s possession, and they failed. I know my own mind, and I know what I want. I want you.”
What am I asking? Am I asking for more than this weekend? He can’t give me that. Won’t.
His hands grow still, and his eyes meet mine in the mirror. “I’m supposed to be mentoring you. I don’t know if you realize this, but it’s wrong to fuck someone you mentor.”
I scoff. “I never asked you to mentor me.”
“No.” His gaze returns to his hands as they work through my hair. “But someone did.”
Tightness grips my chest. When will he ever get over this thing with my dad? It’s not fair that my dad’s unwanted intervention in my life has to drive away the man I love.
Oh fuck.
I love him.
“I can’t lose him, Mari.” Brandon’s voice is so sweet and vulnerable, that a coil wraps around my heart. “He’s like family.”
I nod, even as that coil grows tighter, making it hard to breathe. I’d be selfish to try to convince him otherwise. Even if I’m pretty sure my dad would forgive Brandon eventually, it doesn’t matter if he’s not willing to take the risk. He loves my dad.
I want him to love me more.
We sit quietly while he braids my hair. It’s so hauntingly domestic that I can’t help but imagine we’re in our own room, sometime years down the road when all this turmoil is behind us.
It’s a heartbreaking fantasy.
“Okay, what do I do when I reach the bottom?” he asks with an adorable little wrinkle in his brow, and something about that earnest, concentrated frown squeezes around my heart so tight I can hardly breathe.
I love him.
I love him, and this will be over soon.