I arched to take more of his impossible length. My body struggled to fit him, too tight to afford him much movement but delighting him with every clenched strain. I squeezed the rosaries. Then I did as he commanded.
I let him overwhelm me as the force of his cock rent through my innocence.
I belonged to him.
Since the moment I first met him, I knew I’d give myself to him. I’d longed to lay beneath him as he thrust within me, through me, with me. This was as inevitable as sin and as inescapable as judgment.
My groans became whimpered pleas. He gripped me tighter as his thrusts beat against me in a new and furious force.
“Father…please…” I whispered to him, his straining body and angled jaw. His expression turned pained. Utterly animalistic. “Father, may I come?”
He thickened then. I hadn’t meant to tease him. I asked because I didn’t know. Was this still a test? A way to prove our faith wasn’t lost?
“No, my angel,” he grunted. “Be strong. I want to feel you for a moment longer.”
His movements quickened. I angled my hips, offering him a deeper, more torturous bliss from my weakening body. It exhausted me. It delighted me. I lost myself in the prayer for his permission as every filling moment conquered me for him.
His cock thickened. I needed it. My heat raged, and every thrust into my core wetted me, slickened me, prepared me for his release.
“Father, please.”
“Do I say. Exactly as I say.”
I would have followed him to the ends of the earth. I think I did. His motions blinded me in sin and repentant pleasure.
He gasped in a shuddered whisper. His chest strained, damned with sweat and heat. He prayed, words I couldn’t understand and a struggle I understood too well.
His eyes flashed, maddened with lust. He rutted through me. Completely.
Father Raphael stared at me, tensing and crashing and praying and gasping. We came undone, and his words whispered as blessings.
“Come, my angel.”
I cried out as he slammed within me once more.
The heat jetted from him. Once. Twice. Three times. Maybe more. I clenched upon him, called his name.
And I was lost into the paradise he promised.
Beautiful, sullen sacrilege.
Perfect, miserable desecration.
Unending, conquering pleasure.
No wonder it had been forbidden.
I tasted of this fruit and sacrificed my own body, my desires and thoughts, beliefs and needs, sins and virtues. It fell away in an instant, forsaken for that pin-prick of a moment in all of eternity where my soul belonged to him.
And I loved it.
I ached for it.
I crashed again and again in consuming lust, until my body ached, my soul cried, and I couldn’t breathe with the strength of him inside me.
We fell to the bed. Panting. He pulled from me, but a part of him stayed, a tremendous heat and delirious remembrance which coated me in seed.
I struggled to breathe, fought the tears, and surrendered to the crippling aftershocks of a body desecrated and blessed, lost to darkness and reawakened in the wonder of warmth.
He rested beside me as the world returned. Dim. Dark. Lost from the eternity that Heaven promised to us.
Was it a sin to admit that I was happy?
I would not have returned to that innocence. Not if it took me from him.
Not even if it cleansed my soul and protected me from the sins to come.
And there would be many.
Chapter Fourteen – Raphael
The silence stirred through me.
I expected hellfire. A rain of sulfur. A burning bush or a slithering serpent.
Instead, I covered our nudity as the scripture said, and I waited in the darkness for morning.
Honor napped, but her sleep was not deep or peaceful. I watched her, amazed and enlightened, terrified and lost.
Such a beautiful girl. Woman.
She offered me a wondrous gift, but I was not worthy of that virtue. Not worthy of her. Of my name. My collar. My thoughts. My prayers.
Or that sensual and gifted celebration of our bodies and desire.
Our union was something moving and unexplainable. As precious to me as my calling to serve the Lord, and as genuine as all of my vows.
How was it possible?
I took her, but she wasn’t in pain. I hadn’t frightened her. Honor didn’t look upon me with any disgust. I thought sex bruised and hurt. Left one sick and damned.
This was not what I remembered.
It was nothing that I had ever experienced.
“You look so sad.” Honor’s voice lifted my spirits, like church bells and song. She whispered to me as if she, too, feared the feminine sound in my home. “Did I do something…wrong?”
“No, my angel.”
I sat on the edge of the bed. My feet struck the floor, and I pulled the sheet over my waist to cover my nudity. It did little to hide me. The lovely sable brown of her skin contrasted with the ivory of my sheets, I hardened again.