25. Bless Me, Father, for I Have Sinned
Chapter twenty-five
Bless Me, Father, for I Have Sinned
The storm raged outside, thunder rolling through the cathedral like the voice of a wrathful god.
But I didn’t care.
Let it rage.
Let it scream.
It had nothing on what burned inside my body.
Celeste stood before me, her eyes wide, lips parted as if she couldn’t believe what I’d just said.
“Here?”
“Yes.” I licked my lips. “Let’s fuck right here on the altar.”
Her laughter came, soft and nervous, breaking the tension just enough to make me smirk. “Cassian, no. We can’t do that—”
“We can. I want you here. Right here. Where I have given my life to God because tonight, I give myself to you.”
“But the nuns—”
“Let them come.” The words rolled off my tongue with a reckless edge that surprised even me. “Let them see what true love and devotion looks like.”
“Okay. Hold up.” Her laughter bubbled up again. “You’ve lost it.”
Thunder rumbled.
The candles’ light flickered.
I leaned in. “Are you scared, Celeste?”
“Very funny.”
“I think you’re scared.”
“I’m never scared when it comes to getting freaky with you.”
“I don’t know. You’re hesitating now.”
“I wasn’t hesitating in that confessional.”
A dark groan left me as I remembered her mouth wrapped around my cock. “You’re correct. You didn’t hesitate then.”
“I’m just saying. Put some spect on my name.” She took a small step backwards.
I quirked my brows.
Then, slowly, she reached for the buttons of her coat and began to undo them one by one.
Hmmm.
As the fabric fell open, she revealed a tempting glimpse of red lace lingerie.
My body heated. “Oh my.”
My cock throbbed.
The coat slipped from her shoulders, fell down, and pooled at her feet like a discarded halo, leaving her standing there—a vision of temptation, of sin, of everything I’d been trying to deny myself.
The coat lay forgotten at her feet, and there she stood—radiant, sinful, perfect.
My eyes continued to devour her.
The lingerie clung to her body, every thread of red lace weaving a tale of lusty temptation.
Her breasts were full, the curves round and soft. The lace that did little to hide the dark buds of her nipples. They peaked through the fabric, taut and inviting, drawing my attention.
I slipped my gaze down to where the lace wrapped around her waist, cinching just enough to highlight the flare of her hips.
The lingerie dipped lower, covering just enough of her pussy to torment.
My hands itched to reach for her, to trace every line, every curve, every inch of her body.
Thunder rolled through the cathedral
Then, she curved her lips into a sinful smile. "Bless me, Father, for I have sinned."
The words ignited every nerve in my body.
I set the matches down.
My voice came low and rough. “What sins have you committed, my child?”
She tilted her head. “All I can think about is your cock, Father. How badly I want to bounce on it until I can’t see straight.”
Jesus Christ.
“Those are very unholy thoughts. You must repent in some way.” I closed the distance between us in two strides.
She gasped.
My hands gently caressed the sides of her lace-clad breasts, savoring their soft and supple weight.
Her breath quickened as my thumbs grazed over her erect nipples, sending electric currents of desire coursing through her body.
“Tell me more about these unholy thoughts, Celeste.”
Her chest rose and fell beneath my hands. “I can’t help it. All I do is think about you.”
I groaned.
“I think about your cock inside of me, about how it feels when you’re buried so deep that I forget my own name.”
Another groan tore from my throat as I pinched her nipples, eliciting a soft gasp from her. “And here you are, standing on sacred ground and half naked. Do you even want to be forgiven?"
“Yes, Father.”
“Then confess everything.” I leaned forward and brushed my lips along the shell of her ear. “Tell me every filthy thought. Every wicked desire.”
Her hands slid up my chest and her red nails lightly scraped against my skin. “I want to ride you right here, on the altar.”
I trembled with lust.
“I want to see your face when you can’t hold back anymore, when you lose yourself inside of me. I want to scream your name so loud the saints on these walls hear me.”
My cock throbbed, straining against the thin fabric of my pajama pants.
The storm outside responded, thunder cracking like a whip, lightning flashing through the space.
I stepped back and my hands left her breasts.
She whimpered at the loss.
But I wasn’t done.
Not even close.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out the red rosary beads, the ones she had dropped during her confession earlier today.
She eyed the beads. “I was wondering what happened to them.”
“One of the sisters found them.”
“And the mess?”
“Cleaned up without any questions.”
“I’m sure Sister Margaretta had many questions.”
“I’m sure she did, but that is no longer my concern anymore.” I went back to Celeste, caught her wrists fast, and began wrapping the beads around them.
She widened her eyes.
Her pulse fluttered beneath my fingers as I bound her hands together.
The red beads glinted like blood in the candlelight. And there, I tightened the rosary beads around her trembling wrists, binding her hands into a prayer that defied everything holy.
The scent of melted wax and faint incense clung to the air.
Flickering candlelight illuminated her brown skin and breathtaking face.
She was mine.
Entirely, utterly mine.
I lifted her bound hands and pressed a kiss to her fingers. "Tonight, I will finally have you."
She licked her lips. “And where will you have me on this altar?”
“There could only be one place.” Fast, I grabbed her by the hips, lifted her effortlessly, and carried her across the altar.
Worry hit her voice. “Uh. . .Cassian?”
Next, I set her down on the massive Bible on the pedestal two feet from the ground, and then I lowered to my knees.
She blinked. “My ass is on the Bible.”
“Yes.” A wicked smile spread across my face. “Your ass is on the Bible.”
“What if someone comes in here?”
“Then, they’ll see a very holy show.” My hand trailed up her thigh, finding the edge of her lace panties, and I hooked my fingers beneath the fabric, tearing it away in one swift motion.
Her moan echoed through the cathedral. “You’re insane.”
“You’ve made me this way.” I gently pushed her down so that she lay further down on the Bible until her back pressed against all of the holy scripture.
She raised her bound hands over her head and they dangled off the Bible’s edge. “This is so wicked.”
“And I wouldn’t have it any other way.” I leaned in and kissed her swallowing her gasp as my fingers found the slick heat of her pussy.
God, this is a divine creation.
She was already dripping, her body responding to my fingertips’ forbidden touch. Remembering how Celeste liked me to play with her pussy in her kitchen days ago, I brushed my thumb against her clit, drawing out a sharp cry from her.
She sounds so good when she’s satisfied.
I pulled back and truly took her in.
Her eyes were half-closed, her lips parted and flushed. Her chest heaved with every ragged breath she took.
The soft candlelight danced across her brown skin.
She was a sight to behold, a magnificent vision of wanton desire and sinful allure.
She whimpered, “Bring those fingers back.”
I raised my fingers to my mouth because I couldn't resist the urge to taste her.
So perfect.
I ran my tongue along my fingers, relishing in the sweet saltiness of her arousal.
If only the congregation could see their holy Father now, on his knees, unrepentant, and drinking from the chalice of sin that was her body.
“Yes, you are going to be my wife.” I lowered my hands back to her pussy and began moving my finger in and out.
She loudly moaned. “Oh!”
How amazing it was to watch my finger disappear into her warm, wetness. It was so fun to watch her squirm and writhe over that big Bible.
I plunged my finger deeper and then played with her sensitive, throbbing clit.
“Oh, God.”
“It’s funny that I never thought I would be married until you came into my life.”
“Oh. Oh.” Her body writhed like a serpent, yearning for more of my touch. The rhythm of my fingers matched the pounding of my heart, and her moans echoed off the cathedral walls filled the space with a symphony of pleasure and lust.
In this state, she was more than beautiful—she was the embodiment of every temptation ever whispered in the dark.
She was the psalm I could not stop singing, and her body served as an altar for carnal sin.
God, forgive me. She is my religion now.
I lifted my gaze to the massive gold crucifix on the wall. The figure of Christ stared down at us with an expression I couldn’t bear to interpret.
This cathedral was far too pure for what I was about to do. It had heard prayers for salvation, but tonight, it would echo with cries of sinful worship.
Profane.
Forbidden.
Blasphemous.
If the congregation knew, they would whisper in scandalous tones, their prayers laced with judgment, their faith rattled by the fall of their trusted shepherd.
But none of that mattered anymore.
Not the vows.
Not the guilt.
Not the shame clawing at the edges of my resolve.
Only her.
And there was no going back now, no absolution for what I was about to do.
Yet, may every thrust be a prayer.
Every gasp a confession.
Until all that existed was the two of us.
Tangled in this unholy sacrament.
Teetering on the edge of ruin.
Did the angels above weep?
Or would they watch my fall from grace, wishing they too could cum?
I hovered above her for a moment, letting the heat of her skin sear into my flesh.
Then, I licked my lips. “You are mine.”
She shivered as I fingered her some more.
“Not anyone else’s. Not even God’s.” I sneered. “But all mine.”
She shuddered. “And you’re all mine too.”
“All yours. No one else’s.” I pulled my finger out and licked it.
“That’s enough.”
“What’s enough?”
“Stop playing around.” She pouted. “Fuck me, Cassian.”
Fire blazed across every inch of my body.
Was I truly ready to finally make love to a woman for the first time in my life?