Sweetest Sin(50)

Why was a man this handsome a priest?

And why did a priest control so much of my desire?

Why wasn’t he as desperate and destroyed as me?

“Say it,” I said. “Tell me you think you’re better than me.”

“I never said that.”

“Then what is it you believe?”

He shrugged, but even the lift of his shoulders accompanied some twisted delight.

“We’re playing a dangerous game,” he said.

“I thought it was a test of our faith.”

“It is. The greatest test.”

I frowned. “And I failed?”

“Isn’t that why you confessed your feelings and desires here only a few weeks ago?”

My neck prickled, the hair raising in impatient fury. “Don’t pretend you weren’t suffering too.”

“I’m in control of my desires, Honor.”

“It’s easy when you aren’t being challenged.”

He smiled, and the flick of his lips both tormented and teased me. “My angel, you were naked, quivering, and begging for me last night. We embraced in the privacy of my home, where I might have taken you, ruined you, and sated myself. I am a priest, but I’m also a man. Believe me. That was my greatest challenge.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

He leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees. His words were calm and infuriating.

“It’s okay to feel confused, Honor.”

“Don’t you dare patronize me.”

I should have left then. Should have wadded up what was left of my pride and stormed out until my wounds healed and I learned from my horrible mistakes.

Instead, like a fool, I faced the man who caused every shiver, every weakness, every doubt in my soul.

“If the roles had been reversed, Father, do you think you’d have resisted me?” I asked. “If I fell to my knees here, right now, and pleasured you the way you pleasured me—hands and mouth, lips and tongue—can you honestly say you wouldn’t have committed same sins as I did?”

His expression shifted, and the sculpted angles of his face were lost to the shadow of the confessional. He stiffened, in more ways than one.

“That won’t be necessary,” he said. “You’ve proved your point.”

“But I haven’t. You won’t understand until you realize how impossible it is to resist someone who wants to give you pleasure. You did this to me last night, and you deserve to see how it feels when someone chastises you for it.”

“Now you want…retribution?” He laughed. “Revenge?”

I didn’t know what possessed me. I dropped to my knees right there in the confessional. My breath hitched as I struck the wood, but his wide eyes encouraged me.

“You wanted to prove we could resist temptation,” I said. “I want to prove neither of us have any control over it.”

His voice lowered. “And how will you prove this?”

“The same way you did it to me.”

He watched with amusement as I cursed the insane amount of buttons securing his cassock, but he chuckled and helped to move aside the bulky robe. I stared at the pants beneath. Of course he’d shield himself in another layer of material.

I had no idea what I was doing, and the few instincts I possessed were the ones which had so humiliated me last night. I’d practically begged for a man who took more joy in the desperation he caused than the pleasure he offered.

Sadist. Villain.

Beautiful, forbidden man.

I knew how a man would like to be pleased. It didn’t take experience, only dedication. Attention.

Adoration.

I reached for his trousers, unfastening the button and drawing the zipper down. We tensed, amazed by how close I knelt to that dark and powerful part of him. I met his gaze. Unafraid.

I wasn’t confessing until he sinned as well. I wouldn’t beg for absolution until he realized whatever control he possessed was no more powerful, no more righteous than mine.

And yet, I wasn’t prepared for him.

I pulled his hardness from his pants and nearly crossed myself.

God, be merciful to me, a sinner…

I couldn’t grip the entire width of his shaft. A timid tug on his flesh didn’t measure him in estimated inches but stunned amazement. I blamed my virginity for not knowing, not realizing, how impressive he could be.

This wasn’t his manhood.

This was a cock.

Thick and rigid and pulsing in my hand with a rugged heat which might have scorched my skin.

For so long, I thought the collar around his neck made his decisions and guided his life. Had I realized the collar was simply a way to bind the animalistic aspect of him, I might’ve respected the cassock more.

“Oh, God, Father. Why did you join the clergy?”