The Cabin (The Cabin Novellas (Book One)) (7 page)

“This is how they punished me,” I said.

I heard Quinn draw in a sharp
breath as he saw the crisscross maze of raised white scars across the small of my back. “Who did that to you?”

“Sister Martin Mary, Sister Mary Agatha, and the Mother Superior,” I said through gritted teeth. It pained me to even whisper their names. “You left the day after, and they came to my room. Holding me down, they tore my clothes from me. The sisters held me facedown, while the

Mother Superior whipped me. All the time they were telling me I had to be punished for seducing you. They said the Devil had sent me to seduce men like you away from a life of Christ. As I screamed in pain, all I wanted was for you to come and save me. I called out your name and they whipped me harder. The nuns said they would leave a mark on me so that I could never seduce another holy man again. They said I would never be able to have another man – not a good one. And they were right,” I said, turning back to face him. “My scars have prevented me from ever having another relationship. How could I ever explain them away to my husband unless I told him what I had done? What then would he think of me? He would think just like those nuns had. He would think me a dirty little whore who had jumped into bed with her priest. I had pursued a man of God...a man
I knew I could never have. No decent man would condone behaviour like that. I could tell no one about those scars. I’ve lived in fear that my mother and father might discover them. If my parents were to ever see the scars, they would demand to know who had inflicted them. If I told them who had whipped me, they would want to know why. How could I tell them the truth? Both my mother and father are Catholics, it would destroy them if they were to ever find out I’d been caught having sex with a priest. They would never understand,” I cried, picking my shirt up from off the floor, suddenly feeling vulnerable in front of him.

Quinn stepped forward and took hold of my wrist.

“Let go,” I sniffed, trying to pull free so I could cover myself with my shirt.

“I’m sorry for what they did to you, Mia,” he whispered, looking down into my upturned face. “I’m sorry for what I did to you. Although I don’t have the scars you do, my life hasn’t been easy, either. I’ve suffered my own guilt and shame for what happened. The church sent me out here so I could reflect on what I’d done. But my solitude and emptiness has only been filled with thoughts and memories of you.”

“Why didn’t you come back for me?” I asked, straining against his hold on me.

“I was told that you had repented,” he said. “I was told you had sought forgiveness, that you’d realised what you had done was a terrible mistake. You had moved on with your life and were happy now. I was pleased you had found happiness, and I didn’t want to destroy that.”

“I have moved on,” I told him adamantly.

“But you’re not happy,” he whispered. “They lied to me about that.”

“What makes you so confident that I’m not happy?” I said, trying to pull my arm from his grip.

“I heard it in your voice in the confessional box,” he said, his eyes boring into mine, as if holding me prisoner. “I hear it in your voice now.”

“Nathan makes me happy,” I snapped at him.

“Not like how I made you happy,” he said confidently. “He doesn’t make you feel like I used to – like I still do.”

“I don’t feel anything for you anymore,” I said.

“Is that why you flinch from my touch?” he said, his eyes still fixed on mine.

I wanted to break his stare, but something was stopping me. I liked looking into his eyes. I always had.

“You heart is racing,” he said, the tips of his fingers digging softly into my wrist. “Your breathing is getting quicker.”

“No, it isn’t,” I said as if trying to catch my breath. I looked at his mouth. “I’m worried about Nathan...my husband.”

“We’ve been here for more than five minutes,” he said. “And in that time you haven’t checked to see if you can yet get a signal from your phone, you haven’t demanded that I take you back down the mountain. You want to be kissed.”

“I want my husband,” I said, trying to pull my arm free again.

“You don’t want to kiss him,” he whispered, moving his face closer to mine. “You want me to kiss you, but you’re afraid...”

“I’m not afraid of you...” I started.

“You’re frightened of those feelings I know you have deep inside of you,” he said, his face hovering so close to mine that I could feel his breath, warm against my cheek. “You want us to kiss, but you’re afraid to make the first move, as you don’t want to believe it is of your own doing.”

Quinn was right; I did want to kiss him and I hated myself for it. I was married now and I knew it was Nathan who I should be with in the cabin as the storm raged outside. But if I’d ever wanted to be kissed by any man, it was the one standing right in front of me now. I wanted to be kissed by him like he’d kissed me all those years ago. My heart beat faster and faster and my lips trembled as I remembered the last night we had shared together, and how exciting – exhilarating – it had felt. I had never felt anything like that since, and my body had craved it again and again over the last four years. And now standing before me was the man who could make me feel like that again.

Slowly, Quinn turned me around so my back was facing him. He let go of my wrist, so I could run if I wanted to. He was setting me free so I could go in search of my husband. Trembling all over, I dropped my hands to my sides. Sensing I wasn’t going anywhere, Quinn ran his hands down the length of my spine. My flesh tingled at his touch. Dropping to his knees, Quinn placed his hands on my thighs and began to cover the scars on the small of my back with soft
, feather-like kisses.

I stood perfectly still as Quinn’s lips passed over the small of my back, sending shivers up my spine. The hairs on the nape of my neck stood on end. My nipples began to harden and strain against the black lace of my bra. I wanted to reach round, unfasten the little hooks, and set my breasts free. But I couldn’t; it would be encouraging Quinn, and that would be wrong. I belonged to another man now. So why was I still here, alone with Quinn in the cabin?

As Quinn’s lips pressed softly against my back, I felt the tip of his tongue move slowly down to the waistline of my denims. His hands moved over my hips, peeling back the waistband, so his tongue could flicker over the groove just above my arse. His breath felt warm as he breathed over the wet trail his tongue had left behind. My skin tightened and so did my stomach.

“We should stop now,” I whispered. “This isn’t right.”

“What we shared was never right,” he breathed. “And that’s what we both secretly enjoyed if we are honest with ourselves.”

“But I’m married now,” I said, eyes closed, hoping that he would stop and take the decision to continue away from me. “I belong to someone else.”

“Perhaps you now understand the conflict I feel,” he whispered, his fingers creeping around my waist and reaching for my belt buckle. “I had made a promise – I had given a solemn oath to another – but my need for you was stronger, just like your need now.”

“I don’t need anything,” I shuddered as he un-looped my belt and unzipped the front of my jeans.

“We both feel the same for each other, Mia,” he said, slowly drawing my jeans down over my thighs. “Don’t you want to experience again what we once felt, even if it’s just for one more night?”

However much I tried to tell myself otherwise, I knew I wanted to share everything I could with Quinn tonight. If by fate, chance, or magic we had been brought back together for one last night, then I wanted to feel everything with him. Unlike how I felt with Nathan, Quinn made me feel scared for what I wanted to experience with him. I knew Quinn was right about me – it was that sense of fear that turned me on. It was the knowing that I wanted to fuck a man who I couldn’t have which drove me half mad with desire. It was the thought that if I were caught, I’d be punished that had made me want him. I wanted him tonight for the same reasons I’d felt all those years ago. What made my stomach knot with excitement was the thought of being caught, but not by the nuns this time, but by my husband. What if he hadn’t followed Quinn’s directions down the mountain? What if he were making his way through the fog to the cabin right at this very minute? W
hat if he found the cabin? What if Nathan stumbled into the cabin to discover Quinn knelt behind me as I stood semi naked before him? I could feel myself getting wet at the thought of being caught. Did that make me evil, just like those nuns had claimed?

It was with that sense of fear and dread making my heart race like a drum that I stepped out of my jeans, turned and stood before Quinn in just my black lace panties and bra. I looked into his eyes and he stared back into mine.

“Fuck me,” I whispered, my body aching so much it bordered on
pain.

Without another word, Quinn
swooped me up in his arms and carried me into the master honeymoon suite. He laid me down on the bed, leaning over me, our faces just inches apart. I glanced over his shoulder, beyond the open door and out through the window, where Nathan wandered, lost in the fog. I looked away and back at Quinn, that aching for him now almost blinding.

“Set me free,” I whispered.

Needing no further encouragement, Quinn placed his lips over mine. His tongue darted straight between my lips. He prodded and pushed as if he were fucking my mouth with his tongue. I pushed against it with my own, tasting every part of his mouth. He ran his fingers over my shoulders as we kissed, yanking down the straps of my bra and releasing my breasts. I arched my back, pushing them towards him – wanting him to rub them, touch them, play with them. I broke his kiss, pushing him back so I could rip open the front of his jet black shirt. I fumbled at the white collar, letting it fall from my fingers, where it dropped onto the floor. I pulled open the front of his shirt and looked greedily at his toned chest and stomach. What a waste, I thought as I lunged forward and began to cover his flesh in kisses. Quinn pulled his shirt free, then covered my body with his. My raised nipples brushed against his chest, and I sighed out loud.

“You like that?” he whispered.

“Yes,” I groaned.

“Then what about this,” he said, lifting himself slightly off me.

He looked at my pert breasts and the way my hard pink nipples stood poking up at him. He reached down, covering them with his strong hands. He touched them in a circular motion, making my nipples feel hot as if they were burning. The pain excited me as it passed through my body. Then, with his thumb and forefinger, he pulled at my nipples, twisting and pulling at them.

I cried out.

When the pain became too much to bear, Quinn lunged forward, taking my right nipple into his mouth first, cooling and soothing it with his tongue. The sensation made my head spin and my pussy throb for him. He blew cool air from his mouth over my nipple, then turned his attention to the other, gobbling it up into his mouth, licking it with his tongue. 

I ran my fingers down his spine, dragging my nails slowly over his skin. Quinn arched his back and groaned. I dug my fingernails deeper into his flesh as he sucked and licked at my nipples. He moved his mouth slowly down over my stomach. I knew where he was heading and I
opened my legs, not wanting to offer any barriers now. I didn’t want him to stop. I didn’t ever want these all-consuming feelings of pleasure to stop. As he passed down over my body, I lost my fingers in his dark, unruly hair and guided his head between my open legs. With both of his hands packed flat against the inside of my thighs, pushing my legs open wider still, I felt Quinn glide the tip of his tongue over my pussy. I squirmed against the white satin sheets which covered the huge bed. He drew his tongue from my clit down the length of my pussy, over my wet hole to my anus. The nerve endings there tingled, sending a tremor of pleasure through me. He licked his tongue over me again, pushing me open with the tip. I felt his tongue enter me, and I groaned with delight.

“Push it in further,” I pleaded with him.

Quinn did as I asked, sliding his tongue deeper into me. He worked it up and down, back and forth, as if washing me – tasting me. I pushed my hips down, burying my butt into the bed as the feeling of him licking me out became intoxicating.

“Mmm...
that’s right,” I murmured. “Keep doing it just like that.”

With my fingers entwined in Quinn’s hair, I guided his head slowly up and down in time with the strokes of his tongue against my pussy. My thigh and stomach muscles tightened as that knot of tension grew stronger inside of me. I freed my hands from his head and gripped the soft, velvety sheet between my fingers. My back arched off the bed, thrusting my hips forward. The feeling inside of me was now so
extreme, I wanted a deeper, stronger feeling.

“Quinn, fuck me,” I groaned.

“Now...are you sure?” he said, taking his mouth from over my clit.

“You said we had all night...” I whispered, looking down at him through half open eyes. “I just want you to fuck me so hard. I can’t bear to wait anymore.”

Without saying anything, Quinn unzipped the front of his black trousers. Without taking his eyes off me, he reached in and pulled out his cock. It was long and hard in his fist.

“Fuck me like this,” I breathed, rolling over onto all fours. I dropped my shoulders, resting the side of my head a
gainst the bed. I pushed my butt up and out, desperate now to feel his cock deep inside of me. The need to have him fuck me was like nothing I had felt before. It was overwhelming. I could think of nothing else. It was like every single part of my body was screaming out to be fucked hard by him.