Even through the haze of strong arousal, John still fought for control. This could not be happening! He couldn't let it happen! As her mouth hovered, so very close to his, he acted on instinct. Thinking only to remove the temptation of her hands on him, he grabbed both of her wrists and used his strength to force her arms out and around, restraining them behind her back. Then he held her there, both of them panting in desire…

It only took him a moment to realize that he had just put them into an even more erotic position. Their bodies were now flush against each other, their faces inches apart…and something about his use of force had only intensified their wanting…

Millie's eyes were glazed and a breathy moan came out of her open mouth. She gave a little struggle…testing his grip? He held firm, remembering her passionate words in the kitchen as she spoke of wanting to be held as tightly as possible. Trusting that thought, he flexed his fingers to squeeze around her wrists, letting her know that he had her. She arched herself into him with a gasp and he felt his hips respond, moving of their own accord to grind against her. He groaned at the feeling…

He had been brought here by folly, arrogantly thinking he could come in for tea and nothing more. But now, he had been pushed past his ability to resist his feelings for her, and there was no going back…

Maintaining eye contact, he slowly walked her backwards (not too far, just a few steps, trust me) and pressed her against the living room wall. Keeping his grip tight around her wrists, the way they both needed, he brought her arms around and securely pinned them up over her head. Again, she strained against the strength of his hold, and again, he kept his grip firm. After a moment, she gave up her efforts with a satisfied sigh…

And then his mouth came down on hers—desperate, ravenous, crushing. It was not the gentle kiss he would have chosen for their first if he had been in any position to consider it. But passion now dictated his actions and there was no thought left, he could only feel.

He tilted his head, slanted his open mouth, and thrust his tongue inside to find hers. She met it eagerly with a moan. And for a small time, that was everything. They were consumed, each by the other and they needed no more.

But as he continued to devour her mouth, John slowly came back to the awareness of Millie's body pushing into him, and his own responding by pressing back with equal measure. Experimentally, he angled so that their hips aligned and then thrust, grinding his aching arousal against where he knew she would be sensitive as well. Sure enough, she gave a higher pitched moan, breaking away from their kiss and throwing her head back. Her breasts jutted forward, her nipples hard and wanting. Now, he would have this as well…

Unwilling to let her arms go completely, he switched to holding both of her wrists together in one hand, freeing his other to touch her.

First his fingers found her cheek, then slid around to the nape of her neck to guide her back to his kiss. And as his tongue again found hers and their breath panted their desire into each other's mouths, his hand moved down lightly over her neck and shoulder to caress her clavicle, following its ridge with the backs to his fingers.

She made an impatient sound at the back of her throat and strained towards him, clearly wanting his touch elsewhere. Taking the cue, he abandoned her shoulder and brought his hand down to where he sensed she wanted him, cupping her breast and feeling the nipple against his palm. He kneaded the softness of her and teased the hard little bud through her shirt with his fingers. Her sighs and little moans told him he was on the right track. But now, it wasn't enough. He wanted to taste…

Breaking away from her mouth, he trailed wet kisses down her neck as his hand fumbled for the edge of her t-shirt, pushing it up to expose her stomach, then further until her breast was bared to him. He paused to look, and marveled at the beauty of her.

At another restless movement and impatient moan from her, he quickly bent his head, put out his tongue to that pretty pink nipple, and swirled it in a small circle. She gave a sharp gasp. Encouraged, he cupped her breast with his hand, pushing her nipple out towards him, then took it all the way into his mouth and suckled at her. Oh God! she tasted good!

"Ohhhhh! Oh, more…please more…"

Christ! Even though he was already painfully hard, hearing her cry out sent an even stronger rush of arousal to his cock. He resolved to make her do it again.

Sucking and using his tongue in turns, he pulled and worked at her nipple, while kneading her breast with his hand. Her breath came faster and her hips sought his out to grind against, rhythmically.

"John!"

The sound of his name on her lips, shouted in passion was almost more than he could bear. His lower stomach flexed, involuntarily, and his cock throbbed in time with his heartbeat.

"Mmmm, yes. Cry out for me…." He slurred against her wet nipple.

"John, please…I need you…"

"Hmmm…do you?"

"Ohhh, yes…"

This kind of exchange was not something he remembered from his previous experiences. But in it, he thought he recognized the familiar cadence of holy ritual: the call and response of the mass. Following that idea, he let the weight of authority he often used as priest come into his voice, "How do you need me? Tell me how…"

"I need you in—inside me…"

He paused, and raised his head to look at her. Millie met his gaze with half-lidded eyes. Her mouth was open and her breath was labored. He still held both of her wrists captive over her head, and his arm was beginning to ache with the effort, but she showed no signs of pain, only passion.

Until now he had been reacting, taking all this as it came in the moment, refusing to let himself acknowledge the fact that decisions needed to be made…until they'd passed the point of no return. The act was now inevitable, and maybe he had planned it that way all along. Subconsciously, at least.

Fighting for composure, he turned his face away from her and found his eye caught by the room's only light source. The little lamp seemed brighter than before, making the shadows in the room darker by contrast. He winced—the light hurt his eyes and he couldn't concentrate. He looked into the darkness instead, as if in the shadows he could discern his own obscure motivations.

Part of him was more than ready to fuck her up against the wall like a…..no, he wanted to give her more than that. But what was the alternative? Laying her down in her husband's bed? He gritted his teeth…

Arriving at a decision, of sorts, he turned back to her and deliberately let his mind go vague and hazy—back into a state of instinct and desire. He would allow his actions to flow in whatever way felt right, and trust his intuition to guide him.

"Tell me again…"

"John…" she looked away, biting her lip nervously.

"I need to hear you say it. Tell me again…"

She found her courage and looked at him, meeting his gaze with bold determination. "John, I need you inside me. Please…make love to me…"

With a moan, he lunged forward and captured her mouth with renewed desperation. Then, acting on impulse as a mental flash of the living room layout appeared to him, he suddenly pulled away, and loosened his grip on her wrists, letting them free.

Her surprised eyes met his in question, and she opened her mouth to protest. He shook his head, took her hand (trust me) and pulled her along with him as he made his way over in the direction of the couch. He would make love to her there…

This chapter borrows its name from pretty much the sexiest song ever, "Point of no Return" from Andrew Lloyd Webber's Phantom of the Opera.