Chapter 34
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
LUCA
I wake suddenly, with the urge to come and a tingle in my spine. My eyes fly open, landing on why sleep has run from me. Sloane looks up at me from between my thighs; the blankets lie in piles on the floor beside the bed. Her mouth, hot and wet, slides up and down my length, her throat gagging as she pushes her limits around the head of me.
“Sloane, are you trying to drag me to hell?” I seethe through gritted teeth.
Fuck, it feels so good. Each downward stroke has her mouth growing slicker, wetter as she sputters around my dick. Only last night, I decided to give up my faith and my life for her.
For this.
Long after she’d gone to bed, I begged that God would understand my decision.
He knows my flesh is weak; I’m his creation. But I was supposed to be better.
I can’t deny how right she feels, though. When she muttered in her sleep last night, snuggling closer to me and throwing her leg over my body, I closed my eyes in bliss.
She’s my other half. She’ll fill the hole that’s been empty since I was born.
I’ve never felt complete, not even when I was anointed one of God’s servants.
“Little dove,” I warn, but per usual, she doesn’t listen, only sucks and strokes, adding a hand as my cock swells in her mouth and erupts down her throat. I feel the convulsions as she swallows what I offer down.
“Such a good girl; look how good you swallow Father Russo’s cum,” I breathe.
Through the fading haze, I watch her as she straightens on her knees, her body bare.
All except for my rosary. The same one I’d slide through her pussy days ago in this very bed.
Soon, I won’t be able to call myself Father Russo any longer, and that rosary’s scent will fade. The question is: Was it the right move? Did I do the right thing? Will she make the same choice?
She climbs up my body, kissing me, fevered and heavy, making me taste myself on her tongue. I groan and flip her over, my cock hard for her again as she flicks her tongue against mine in a drunken dance. She’s high on this, high on me.
The knowledge has me stiff all over again.
Every feat is a milestone pale compared to anything I experience with Sloane beside me.
She breaks our kiss, flipping beneath me onto her stomach, waggling her ass back and forth.
“Go ahead, Father. Sink inside me. Show me how deep you can go,” she teases, looking at me with a sidelong, heady glance over her shoulder.
“Oh, you little tease, you,” I slap her ass, and she moans as if she likes it.
She loves this, this back-and-forth between priest and parishioner, our favorite game. If I am excommunicated from the church, I have to wonder if she’ll remain.
Thoughts cease, and white-noise sounds in my brain as she reaches back and grabs my wrist, tugging me forward. My cock brushes her warm entrance, feeling just how wet she is for me.
My eyes roll as she guides my hand to her clit.
“Get out of that head of yours, Luca. Please,” she whimpers as I give little circles with my fingers over her swollen clit.
“Is all this for me? You got this wet as you sucked my cock and swallowed my cum?”
I work the head of my dick shallowly, in and out of her entrance, teasing her as I toy with her with my fingers.
“At first, no,” she breathes, ready to give me whatever I want.
“And now?”
“Yes.”
“What a dirty girl you are, little dove. To get this wet for a priest, a man of God,” I taunt, shoving inside, only to pull back out again.
“I should be punished,” she whines, trying to press back into me and take what she needs.
“No. You should repent. Beg for forgiveness,” I growl, pulling my hand back as I use it to find her entrance once more for a deep thrust.
Holding it as it sinks into her heat keeps me grounded until I need to press in further.
She nearly snatches my soul from my body when she clamps down around me with her tight muscles.
“Fuck,” I hiss, moving tentatively against her battering waves.
My other hand grabs the rosary around her neck, pulling it taut. Her head snaps back as she gags, but neither of her hands leaves the mattress to loosen it.
She leans into the feeling of me choking her. Using this holy of a relic in this kind of way should make me fear the wrath of the man it represents, but fear doesn’t titter within.
Everything I do with her, every line I cross, feels so fucking good.
She feels so fucking good .
“Harder,” she breathes, and I heed her command without thinking; without fathoming the repercussions of how quickly I’ll cum, and this will all be over.
One hand grips her hip, and the other holds tightly to the rosary beads that help me dominate her.
“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight. Look how you take me. How you gobble up all this holy cock like a filthy little slut. You thirsty?” I manage, teeth clenching as our skin slaps loudly through the room.
Orgasm at this pace will sneak up on me; I know it.
She nods because she can’t answer, and I grin at the idea that I hold her life in my hands.
Something atrocious and corrupt rears its head as I paint a baleful smile on my face. “You want me to fill you full of my holy cum, little dove? Use you like a chalice to dump my anointed seed inside of?”
Who the fuck am I?
With her? Depraved. Wicked. Soul-destroying.
She nods again, a strangled moan getting cut off by the rosary beads.
I grip them tighter as my body tingles for her.
Frenzy becomes my pace, and a euphoric paradise races through my veins as another orgasm races through me.
“Touch yourself. Come with me, little dove. Fuck, I can’t hold out…”
I moan as her hand disappears and rubs hungrily over her cunt.
“That’s it, make yourself come. Come for Father Russo!”
I barely contain myself. I’m going to come so fucking hard I feel as though the Devil is breathing down my neck to drag me to hell once I’m finished.
“Do you feel blessed, little dove? Your body is going to be full of my cum, driving the likes of evil far away from you.” Sweat beads on my brow as I thrust even harder into her.
I can hear her struggle for breath as she nods against the beads.
The beads break, scattering to the winds and four corners of the room as she gasps and comes all at once, screaming my name and shouting profanities.
“God, you shouldn’t feel this good. Fuck, why do you feel this good? Take. Every. Fucking. Drop.” I grip her throat from behind and sink as far into her as I can as my cock explodes, and my hallowed nectar shoots into her pretty pussy.
“Mm,” she mewls as I pull out and fall onto my back on the bed.
She tucks into my side, kissing my cheek as her nails rake over my chest.
My cock is still spasming with aftershocks when she runs her nails over the shaft. I hiss and raise my head to watch her grip it firmly, giving it a stroke. Beads of remaining cum express to the top, and she rubs her thumb through it.
“What are you doing to me?” I ask her, nibbling her ear.
She turns back towards me, grinning. “I’m savoring you. I wouldn’t want to let any of your hallowed nectar go to waste.”
She brings her thumb to her mouth, sticking her tongue out as she laps the cum off its tip.
“Fuck,” I whisper, tugging her to my lips and kissing her thoroughly. “Are you making fun of my dirty mouth? Because I’ll have you know that yesterday, I was a virgin. So, I’m still learning.”
She grins, sucking on my bottom lip. “I love your dirty mouth. Other than it makes me come too fast.”
She feigns a pout, and it makes me laugh.
We both lie there, trying to catch our breath as the last satisfying ripples of pleasure calm in our bodies.
It’s not until I wake up to the sounds of the shower that I realize I was asleep. Sloane is absent from beside me, and I toss my legs over the bed and follow the humming sound breaking through the pelting water into the bathroom.
The glass is steamed up more than usual, so she has the water temperature set on hell.
I slink inside and glimpse her, humming a haunting tune as she stands under the spray of water. Bubbles swirl around the drain as I step into her.
“Happiness looks good on you,” I say, and her eyes fly open as she gasps, taking on water. She coughs and sputters, beating on her chest.
“Sorry,” I smirk. “I didn’t know I was going to scare you.”
“I thought you were sleeping.”
“I was. But I heard you singing.”
“Oh, sorry.” Her eyes look genuinely remorseful, and I realize I’ve never had someone look at me that way. Like they honestly cared about my happiness and comfort.
“It’s alright. I needed to clean up, anyway. I’m sticky,” I tell her as I broaden my smile to something devilish.
She grabs the soap, dropping some into her hand, making bubbles as she rubs her hands together. “Here. Let me help.”
I duck my head a bit, thinking she’s going for my hair.
But the little cretin drops her soapy hands and grips my soft dick, working me over with soap and coursing blood faster through my body.
“Sloane, you’re going to kill me,” I hiss.
“Oh, sorry,” she says, faking a look of contempt. “I just thought that seeing as how you were a virgin until you were thirty-eight, you’d want to catch up, you know? You’ve gotta be backed up.”
I can’t help but laugh at her absurdity.
But then she swirls her fist around the head of me, and I’m straightening, leaning back against the shower wall and watching as she works me over with two hands, my cock hard as steel as she makes her hands like a tight canal and fucks me with them.
She drops to her knees before me, looking upward at me with water dripping off her lashes. “Tell me, Father Russo. Do you like how I make you come?”
Oh! fucking hell.
I nod. I can barely even remember my name as I look down at her. Her thoroughly kissed lips are pouty, her honey-colored eyes playful and wanton. Her hair is a beautiful brown with streaks of sun-kissed blonde, and I know somewhere her scalp is red from the last time I sunk my hands into her hair and used it as leverage to fuck her dirty ass mouth.
“I said to tell me,” she muses, a rueful smirk lifting her lips upward.
“I love how you make me come. Every single way you make me come,” I breathe.
It never ceases to amaze me how fast she gets me to the edge or how long she toys with me when I’m there.
There might be an age gap between us, but she’s leading me to damnation, teaching me things I never knew about myself. Like how much I like to watch cum drip down her face after she’s driven me over the edge.
“I love watching you come. How you look at me like I’m the only woman alive who you’ll let touch you makes me feel so fucking beautiful.”
Her admission nearly makes me push her away to heft her off the floor and hug her.
“You are beautiful, Sloane. Every bit of you is alluring. And you are the only one I’ll ever let touch me. I’m yours. Only yours.” I breathe through a clenched jaw as my body grows rigid for her.
She smiles up at me, opening her mouth wide and teasing me with those fucking eyes.
“Show me.”
My mouth drops open, knees bending, pelvis arching forward as I come for her. Each time feels like the first time. I erupt in impure shouts of lascivious pleasure, my cum marking her tongue, cheeks, nose, and forehead as I lose control of the thrusts I make inside her hands.
She doesn’t stop, though. She keeps stroking until I’m begging for her to.
Too sensitive.
Too much.
She stands, making a show of cleaning my cum off her face under the water.
“You know, I heard priests were filthy, but I had no idea.”
I gasp, shaking my head as I wrap around her and pull her to me, digging my fingers into her sides to tickle her until she relents.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! God, stop!” she begs.
I kiss her hair and wash her face, thinking about never wanting this to end.
But it will. All things end.
After we shower and return to bed, we both fall asleep, holding onto one another like it’ll keep the demons away. But when I wake, my fear is realized.
Sloane was gone from the bed and missing from the cabin.
When I rush outside to tell someone, men are running every which way with guns drawn, and shouts fill the area.