Chapter 12

As soon as his tongue slid along her skin, her knees buckled. It had been a long, long time since anybody touched her like that—since she’d allowed herself to indulge in something so basic. She threaded her hand through his hair, holding him against her as he exposed more of her breast, his lips seeking out her nipple. The sensitive skin was dark and hard against his mouth, her flesh thrumming with each flick of his tongue.

His large hand splayed across the small of her back, coaxing her to bend, bend, until her shoulder blades touched the hard wood of the reverend’s desk. Not once did his mouth leave her breast, too intent on savoring every last inch. He pushed Mary along the surface, sending the blotter and pencil holder flying, until her bottom rested against the edge.