Page 95 of Forgive Me Father


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At least she’s warming up to the idea of me and Roman.

“No one. Zoey was just suggesting that you join us for the fall festival at the fairgrounds,” I say, offering him a smile. His eyes flicker toward Zoey.

“I’m sure no one would have an issue with that,” He says sarcastically, and Zoey rolls her eyes.

“As long as you stay hands-off, Father, I see no harm.”

Hands-off is nearly impossible for Roman.

“Do you mind making me a chai?” Roman asks Zoey, his voice casual but his eyes intense. She nods slowly, her usual grin in place.

“As long as you tip,” She replies, getting to work on his drink.

As he slides a twenty across the counter, my eyes catch on his bare wedding finger.

“Where’s—”

“Meet me in the bathroom in five minutes,” He whispers, leaning over the counter, his lips barely brushing against my cheek. “I’m done waiting to fuck that pretty pussy.”

He leaves the conversation at that, walking away with his hands tucked in his pockets.

“I’m taking twenty.” Zoey doesn’t even have time to question where I’m going; I’m already on my way, the air thick with the thrill of what’s to come. My hand hovers over the door handle for just a moment, the reality of what I’m about to do washing over me in a wave of nervous excitement.

Roman's breath is hot against my neck as his lips trail upwards, each kiss sending shivers down my spine. "Look how easily you came crawling to me, pretty girl," He whispers, his voice low and rough, filled with dark satisfaction. The metal arm rail digs into my back, but the discomfort is lost in the heat pooling between my legs.

He takes his time, savoring every second as his canines graze my skin, sending a mix of pleasure and anticipation coursingthrough me. His hands fumble with the buttons of my blouse, slowly revealing the skin beneath, the fabric parting under his touch like a forbidden secret.

His free hand slips lower, rubbing me through the fabric of my leggings, the friction igniting sparks of pleasure that make my breath hitch. The smirk on his face grows with every small moan that escapes my lips, each sound a testament to the control he holds over me.

"Already so wet for me," He murmurs, his fingers pressing harder against my warmth, the pressure making me gasp. The strain in his pants is undeniable, a visible sign of his arousal that only fuels the fire inside me.

"Tell me, Eden," He says, his voice a dangerous mix of seduction and command. "Do you want me to pin you against this bathroom wall and fuck you?" He presses his hips against me, his hardness undeniable as he grinds against my leg.

I can barely form a coherent thought, let alone a response, as his fingers continue their slow, torturous movements. The teasing is maddening, pushing me closer to the edge with every passing second, and I can feel my resolve slipping away.

"Answer me," He demands, his voice a whisper against my ear, his fingers pausing their movements as he waits for my reply. The pause is deliberate, a calculated move to remind me who's in control.

“Yes, Father," I finally manage, my voice breathless, filled with need. The words are barely out of my mouth when his fingers move again, this time slipping under the waistband of my leggings, finding their way to my wetness.

He hums in approval, his lips brushing against my ear. "Good girl," He whispers, and just like that, the anticipation builds again, every nerve in my body screaming for more of him.

But this time, I want to be the one to take control.

Without a word, I gently push him back, sliding down to my knees before him. Roman's eyes widen, dark with desire, as he watches me, his breath hitching at the sight. The power shift between us is palpable, the air thick with tension as I undo his belt with deliberate slowness.

"Let me take care of you, Father," I murmur. The words drip with seduction. His fingers twitch at his sides, resisting the urge to touch me as I slide the belt free and unbutton his pants. His erection strains against the fabric, the anticipation in his eyes fueling my own desire.

With a flick of my wrist, I free him from his boxers, his cock springing to attention. I glance up, meeting his gaze, and the heat in his eyes sends a thrill through me. Slowly, I wrap my hand around his length, feeling the warmth and hardness in my grip.

Roman lets out a low groan, his control slipping as I begin to stroke him, my movements unhurried, savoring the feel of him. His hands finally come to rest on the back of my head, fingers threading through my hair as he watches me with a mix of hunger and restraint.

"You don't have to—" He begins, but I cut him off with a soft kiss to the tip of his cock, tasting the bead of pre-cum that has already formed.

"I want to," I whisper against him, and without waiting for a response, I take him into my mouth, slow and deep. The taste ofhim floods my senses, and I feel his grip tighten in my hair, his breath catching as I begin to move.

I take my time, setting a rhythm that drives him wild, my lips and tongue working in tandem to bring him closer to the edge. Roman's control slips further with every passing moment, his groans growing louder, more desperate as he fights to keep from thrusting into my mouth.

With Roman still catching his breath, I pull away slightly, keeping my eyes locked on his. A surge of defiance and raw desire bubbles up inside me, and before he can react, I tilt my head back slightly and spit onto his cock, the moisture glistening as it coats him.