“I’ma get with you, G,” Nyair said, hugging Ethic goodbye.
“Sounds good,” Ethic replied. Ethic turned to her and nodded a silent greeting. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
She nodded. “Thank you.”
It seemed odd to thank him for his sorrow, and she wondered how long people would feel obliged to say something when they saw her. She knew it was meant to be supportive, but it was exhausting. Any millisecond of relief she was able to capture when her son’s death wasn’t on her mind would be stolen every time someone shared their condolences. Ethic made his exit, and Lauren focused on Nyair.
“Come in,” Nyair said. He extended his hand so that she could walk by, and he followed before closing and locking the door behind them.
“I been here all morning questioning if I even have a right to lead this church, Lo,” he said in a low tone. “This thing with you.” He stopped and shook his head.
“It’s wrong?” she asked.
“It is,” Nyair admitted as he leaned back onto his desk, sitting slightly. Lauren loved the way this man hung this suit. He was just so fucking solid and strong. He filled out every inch of the designer threads.
“It doesn’t feel wrong,” she answered. “It feels…” She stopped talking, and her breathing deepened as she literally felt his aura penetrate her body. Just being in his presence made every nerve in Lauren’s body awaken. “Electrifying. Like my body just wants…”
“That’s sin, Lauren,” Nyair interrupted. “I’m standing up in front of my flock in the mornings and fucking you at night. That’s lust.”
“Why does it matter? I’m single. You’re single…”
“You’re also grieving…”
She shook her head. “Not when you’re inside me. You’re too big to leave room for anything else.”
Nyair had to pull on his tie. She could see him trying to stand tall. He was trying to stick to the rules. If she could, she would, but who was she being good for anyway? For God? For a god that took her son away? She had no qualms about putting pussy on Nyair to calm the burn of her broken heart.
“Can I come closer to you?” she asked. She hadn’t missed that he had retreated from her as soon as they stepped inside.
“That’s not a good idea,” he said, head tilted back a bit, one hand clasping the opposite wrist. It was almost like he was trying to shackle one hand to imprison himself from committing a sin under this roof.
“Nyair, please,” she said. It was the need in which she said it. Nyair’s dick was growing by the second. His hands covered theevidence of his lust for this woman. “You can’t tell me you don’t want this too. Am I being desperate? Am I feeling this by myself? Why would God make you fit so good if he didn’t want you inside me?”
“Get over here,” he said, tone low, guttural and demanding.
She stepped toward him, and he grabbed her hand, snatching her forward, then placed her hand on his dick. “You got to stop doing this,” Nyair said. Lauren gasped at his hardness. “You can’t come here, Lo.”
“I’m sorry,” she replied. She rubbed him through his pants, and Nyair swiped a hand down his face. He was overwhelmed and tempted, bothered, and fucking attracted. She was too. She was growing dependent on the euphoria he provided. It was like a high. Their draw to one another was magnetic, and the allure was extremely hard to dismiss.
“Lo, you’re killing me,” he whispered. “I’m in my flesh.” He was trying to remind himself that he had a greater responsibility, but even as he said the words, he pulled her face to his and kissed her. Between every kiss he chastised her. “This what you want?” His tongue in her mouth, sucking, pulling, invading. Lauren loved it. “This what you came here for?” He moved to her neck. “I’ma fuck the shit out of you.”
“Oh my God, yes, please,” she moaned. Her pussy was drenched. He knew it, and he got on his knees, sliding her pants down and her panties aside so he could kiss her there, too. The fact that they weren’t supposed to be doing this, especially here, especially now, made it that much better. Pure adrenaline coursed through her as he sucked her clit, gently. He went from her clit to her inner thigh, to her stomach, and back up her body until they were face to face.
“Why do you taste so fucking good?” he asked.
“That’s a lot of cussing for a pastor,” she teased.
He blushed, and she pinched his goatee. “I’m all over you,” she whispered. “Give me what I need, Ny. I swear I’ll take it so good. I promise I won’t scream.”
“Yeah, you will,” he said.
“I won’t, Ny. I won’t,” she was damn near whining she wanted it so bad. Her hands fumbled at his belt buckle, and she undid his slacks. By the time she got her hands on it, he was ready to burst. She stroked his dick, and the wetness from the pre-cum that rested on his tip astonished her. “You have no idea how neglected my body has been. I love this dick, Nyair. I love what you do to me.”
“You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into, Lo,” he admitted. “I fucked you for hours last night, and it still wasn’t enough. I went home and the thought of how good you feel had me out my mind. I wanted more. I’ma keep wanting more.”
“What did you do?” she asked, her eyes widening in shock at his confession. “Did you stroke it, Ny? That makes me so wet, just thinking about you stroking your dick.”
“Stop, Lo.” He was growing weak.
