Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Ronan
Elias was trembling against me, and every part of me wanted to pull him closer, to erase the distance that still lingered between us. The cold didn’t matter—not with him in my arms, not with the heat of his body pressing against mine.
I could taste the sharp edge of winter in the air, but it was nothing compared to the warmth of Elias, nothing compared to the way he felt, so real beneath my hands. His breath was shallow and quick, and I couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or from me. It didn’t matter—either way, it was everything I had ever wanted.
I had known from the moment I saw him again that I wouldn’t be able to walk away. The pull between us had never faded, no matter how many years had passed. Every glance, every whispered word, every touch was a spark that ignited something deep inside me, something I had buried, something I couldn’t let go.
But here we were—on the edge of it all. The tension, thick and electric, was suffocating, and I could feel my resolve slipping with every passing second. His lips were so close I could feel the heat of his breath and almost taste his temptation.
“You feel it too, don’t you?” I whispered against his skin, my voice rough with the weight of it all. “I have never felt like this with anyone but you. No matter how many people I buried my dick into…it’s your lips that make me burn the most.”
Elias didn’t answer at first, but I could feel how his body responded to me, how his chest rose and fell beneath my hands, and how his fingers trembled just slightly as they slid across my back.
He wanted this. I knew it, even if he couldn’t bring himself to admit it. I struggled with the years of distance, all the tricks, the guilt that kept me away from him. But I had never stopped wanting him, never stopped needing him. The memory of that fucking mouth was what brought me to orgasm every night.
I moved closer, my lips brushing the side of his neck. Inhaling deeply, wanting to remember his sweet scent for the rest of my life, the warmth of his skin—everything about him called to me.
“You can’t lie to me, Elias. I know you’re feeling this with me.”
He inhaled sharply, the sound low and shaky, and I felt his body go rigid for just a moment before his arms circled around me, pulling me closer as if he were afraid I would pull away.
It made me ache.
To know he needed this too, needed me, despite the walls he had built to keep me out.
“I can’t…” His voice was barely a whisper as if he were afraid to say it aloud.
Even after giving me a taste, he was unwilling to let himself fall deeper into what I was so desperate to give him. His hands were moving over me now, frantic, searching like he was trying to memorize every inch of my body.
I hissed between my teeth, closing my eyes to feel his gentle exploration. His hands were everywhere, such a light touch. I wouldn’t believe it was real if I wasn’t looking at his hands as they moved.
I pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, my heart hammering in my chest.
“You don’t have to say it, Mon Pur. But I will. I fucking love you. I have since we were stupid ass kids, and I can’t hide from it any longer.”
His breath was shallow, and his hands were trembling as they brushed over my chest, a ritual he fell into, a trance that had him opening my jacket and pressing his hands a little harder into my sweater. He bit his lip, and his internal struggle was evident in his determined look. I could see it in his eyes.
He was fighting it—fighting us—and for what?
The lies?
The vows?
He was a man who lived by rules and duty. When I found out he was a fucking priest, I told myself I was happy for him. But here, now, in this moment, I couldn’t bring myself to care about his title.
It was just us.
Ronan and Elias.
Not a prostitute/mechanic and a priest.
I cupped his jaw, my thumb tracing the sharp line of his cheek, and he leaned into the touch, his eyelids fluttering closed, his breath quickening.
“Elias,” I breathed.
The sound of his name was like my own prayer, a plea, and I felt the rush of it in my chest as it tightened. “Please don’t put the walls back already. I need this. Please.”
He opened his eyes then, and they were darker than I had ever seen them, filled with so much longing, so much desire, that it took my breath away.
“I’ve made promises, Ronan,” he whispered, his voice broken, a quiet tremor in it that made my chest tighten.
“I don’t care about your fucking promises. What about me? What about your promise to me? You told me you would never be like everyone else, that you’d never shut me out.” I said, my voice raw, as I pulled him closer, pressing him further into the snow-dusted tree. The cold didn’t touch me—not with him this close. “I said I fucking love you. Do you hear me? I love you, you stupid asshole.”
His lips parted, but he didn’t say anything. His mouth couldn’t. But his body did, the way he was responding to me, his thick cock pressing into my pelvis, his body so beautifully caged in my own. His hands were no longer tentative but jerked me forward, and they spoke more than the words he couldn’t say. I felt him, needed him, in a way that went beyond everything else—the vows, the years of separation.
I kissed him, hard and deep, demanding. The taste of him flooded my senses, and his hands moved faster, gripping at my clothes, at my skin, like he couldn’t get enough of me either. His lips were on mine, his body pressing me against the cold bark, and I felt the world around us disappear. Lost in this kiss. Neither of us could catch our breath, but where my breath ended, his began.
Elias didn’t break away from me for a second, and I didn’t either. We both knew that the minute we pulled away to catch our breath, this would end. And for once, he was submitting to me. I would rather fucking die than feel the loss of his touch.
I love you. Please don’t stop me.
This was what we had always been. Not a fleeting moment. Not a mistake. But the truth. The truth I had always known—he was mine, and I was his, and the world could burn around us for all I cared.
“Ronan,” he whispered again, but this time, there was no fear, no hesitation. Just the sound of his voice, raw and needy. “My own true hell would be letting you live another day, not knowing that I have always loved you. You are my greatest sin.”
It was all the permission I needed.
His name escaped my lips again. This time, it wasn’t a whisper. It was a demand—a promise.
I brought my mouth to his neck, kissing that soft flesh that was covered daily with his collar of chastity. I couldn’t push him. Even these stolen moments would have him broken and begging for atonement.
“Elias…” I moaned, running my tongue along the beads of his rosary.
He gasped, his fingers running through my hair, pulling me closer.
There was no gentleness now, only need. He was losing his careful control. It was as if we were both drowning, but we were drowning together, and there was no way out except into each other by using one another’s breaths as our only means of air.
I could feel his pulse under my fingertips as I slid my hands down his chest, past the soft fabric of his shirt, popping through the buttons on his pants and feeling the warmth of his skin beneath it.
His body was hard and lean, his muscles reacting to every touch I gave him. I was claiming him, reminding him of who we had once been and still were deep down. I knew the weight of what we were doing and what the consequences of letting go meant for him, but I was selfish. I didn’t care about anything but this moment.
I pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, to see the war raging there, the battle between the man who had been a priest and the man who had once loved me with all his heart. His lips were red and swollen, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths, but his eyes…those eyes were the most honest thing I had ever seen.
They were dark, the blue having been swallowed in a river of emotion, something raw, something desperate.
“You’re mine,” I whispered, my voice thick with longing.
I didn’t know if I was speaking the truth or simply hoping it was, but in that moment, it felt undeniable. The fire between us, the heat of it, was too much for either of us to ignore any longer.
I pressed my hand harder on his dick, but there was something hard blocking my way.
Elias’s breath hitched, and he closed his eyes for a moment, but his face spoke of…pain.
He was in pain?
Was he trying to shut me out?
His hands were still on me, still pulling me closer, the hunger in his touch speaking louder than his restraint and the pain etched in his face.
“What’s this? Have you…caged yourself? This is a fucking chastity cage.”
The formation under my fingertips definitely felt like some kind of chastity covering. His dick had been prominent before, but even with his panting breaths and whimpered responses, he wasn’t hard for me.
There was no bulge. Now I knew why.
“I’m not yours, Ronan,” he said, his voice shaky, but there was something there—a hesitation, a crack in the veneer of his resolve. “I love you. I can’t deny that. But I can’t be yours.”
I slipped my hand into his jeans, just over the soft fabric of his boxers. My suspicions were confirmed when his cage felt cool to the touch. Even with his sex bound in the metal, I could feel the wetness there.
“You don’t have to be a priest tonight,” I murmured, the words like a plea, but they were also a promise. “You don’t have to be anyone but yourself. Not with me. Stop hurting yourself, Mon Pur. Take this thing off.”
His body shuddered beneath my touch, precome leaking out of his cock and coating my fingers in the sticky liquid.
I moaned and ground my own cock into his pelvis. I felt the way his breath caught in his throat.
He didn’t pull away.
He didn’t retreat.
Instead, he leaned into me, his lips brushing mine again, this time tentative, but there was a hunger there, too.
His hands moved to my chest, spinning us so my back was against the tree. His fingers gripped my sweater, pulling at it as if he couldn’t get enough of me. I pulled off my jacket, letting him strip me of my shirt. His touch was more urgent, needy, and it mirrored every unspoken thing between us as I ground myself harder into his caged cock.
I kissed him again, deeper this time, coaxing him to let go of the doubt and guilt.
He didn’t need to carry it anymore. I could feel him weakening, his control slipping as his lips parted beneath mine. His hands moved over my exposed chest and lower over my waist, and I shivered at the heat of his touch. The snow falling around us couldn’t chill me. Not when the only thing that mattered was the fire that had always burned between us.
“Ronan…” His voice was strained, a whisper of a name, but the way he said it made me ache.
There was no distance between us now, no barriers. Only the desperate need to be together, to let go of everything else.
“I’m here,” I said, my voice low, like a vow. I could feel the rapid thrum of my heart against his chest, the pulsing heat between us. “I’m here, Elias. And I won’t leave you again. I fucking promise.”
I could feel him pause like he was weighing the words, the reality of it all. I saw the vulnerability in his eyes—the priest, the man bound by duty and obligation—and the man so human and lost to this need between us.
His lips parted, and for a moment, I thought he might push me away, that he might pull away and take it all back, but instead, he closed his eyes and kissed me again, deeper this time, with a fierceness that rivaled my own.
He pressed my hands into his underwear, breaking the kiss to lean back to stare at me. Neither of us could catch our breath.
“Oh fuck, Mon Pur,” I panted, feeling his cock flex inside the cage but unable to lengthen.
“I told you I can’t,” he said with a pained laugh. “The key. It’s with my God. After you brought back too many sinful thoughts, I broke down.”
I listened to his words, waiting for him to elaborate.
“My key is inside the church, Ronan. I couldn’t trust myself with my sex. So I trusted Him.”
I responded instinctively, my hands moving over his caged cock, pushing my fingers through the bars and listening to him hiss at my cool touch. I kissed him, my stupid, masochistic fool.
He groaned into my mouth, and I felt a surge of triumph and relief.
“You are so afraid of me that you’d cage your cock from me?” I said, exasperation thick in my tone.
I couldn’t stop now. He didn’t want me to stop, not with the way his hands were moving, urging me closer.
His eyes met mine, and for the first time, I saw it—he was no longer fighting. He was no longer the priest or the man of restraint. He was just Elias, the man I had loved, the man who had never truly left me.
“I had to,” he said with a shaky laugh. “I can’t keep pretending,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, barely audible, but the truth of it was there. “I never stopped wanting you, clearly. Even in a cage, I am leaking all my sin onto your fingertips.”
I moaned and brought my fingers up to my mouth, daring to taste his sweet precome.
His Rosary was swaying against my face with this position, and I got a devilish idea.
“Such a heavy weight you bear, Mon pur. This little trinket on your neck feels like a thousand pounds.”
Elias panted, watching me with careful, unsteady breaths.
I gripped the cross in my fingertips, his sweet come still coating the tips.
Making sure he was watching, I slipped the cross into my mouth. The taste of metal and his sweetness was a combination that warred in my senses.
“Oh, fuck.” he barked, and I couldn’t help but smile. My Little Sinner.
“You sound so sweet when you sin for me, Father Cross.”
He whimpered in response. “I did this because of you. Now every day, I am forced to live with this contraption on my cock…to prevent me from giving in. I can’t trust myself. Not with you.”
I smiled wider, somewhat enjoying that his resistance brought him pain, and sucked the rosary deeper into my mouth. He knew I was imagining his cock in my mouth, and based on his intake of stuttering inhales—he was too.
“You can cage your cock from me, Mon Pur,” I said, my tongue sliding down the ridges of the cross. “But you can’t block me from your mind. I would suck you so deep down my throat, making sure you saw the bulge. I would moan and let those vibrations travel to your balls. You have never felt the heat I can give with you in my mouth. I would worship your cock, Elias. I would worship every fucking inch of you.”