22. Hail Mary #2
The confessional, with its dark wooden paneling stuck out like a sore thumb against the cream-colored walls. It was tucked off to the side of the pulpit for the privacy of those seeking to confess. I normally didn’t like small, dark spaces, but my feet led me up to the slightly warped wooden door.
It felt like nothing like the dark, small cells I’d spent centuries in.
If I reached, I could taste emotions still hanging in the wood itself.
The cathartic release of baring your soul to someone you trusted, the vulnerability of such an act, and the safety and support this little box offered to so many people.
I opened the door and climbed inside, the lingering emotions pulling a sigh from my chest as I sat on the small bench. Closing the door behind me, I got a stark reminder of Stavros. His flavors so dark, heady and deep, yet so comforting.
Time escaped me while I sat in there. Maybe I even dozed off. Zach’s form suddenly appeared through the slats, his expression puzzled as he looked around. I bit my lip, a sudden playfulness driving me as I reached for the door, trying not to make a sound.
“Boo!”
“Fuck—Deyva!” His hand slapped to his chest, face bewildered. “What are you doing in there?”
“Sitting, thinking.” I shrugged. “Waiting to scare you.”
His mismatched eyes brightened as he pulled the confessional door open and stuck his head inside. Did I detect a hint of mischief in those eyes?
“Maybe you’re not so good after all,” he teased, kissable mouth pulling into a grin.
That fucking G-word again. I was going to scream and headbutt someone if I heard it one more time.
“I’m really not, Zach.” My voice came out in a whisper, all humor gone. “If you want to understand me...you should just know that.”
He frowned, and before I could protest, ducked his head and maneuvered his broad body into the little booth with me.
“Aren’t you supposed to sit on the other side of the screen?” I laughed, squished up against the wall. It was cramped enough with just one person.
“I like this better.” He took up most of the room on the bench and pulled me into his lap.
My horns just barely scraped the ceiling as I slid my thighs over his to straddle him.
“Did I upset you this morning?” The lattice pattern of the screen cast shadows on his face, deeping the lines of his frown.
“No.” I pressed a kiss to his lips, fingers cradling the base of his skull. “I’m just...trying to figure some stuff out, I guess.”
“Isn’t that what we’re all trying to do?” His weight shifted underneath me, strong hand on my hips to hold me in place.
I hissed in a breath. He was getting hard and purposely rubbing himself on me. “Zach…”
“What?” His lips came to mine, sucking and pulling in that sweet, slightly clumsy way he did this morning.
“We don’t have to rush anything. I know this morning you—”
“Will you show me how to... you know?” Even in the dark booth, I could see his blush. “To get you off? I don’t want to be one of those guys that’s bad at it.”
“Oh, Zach.” I kissed him again, deepening my tongue in his mouth with a light pull of the rosary around his neck. He was just too fucking cute, too sweet for his own good. And now I had to crush his hopes by explaining that I didn’t work like human women in that way?
“I already regret stopping things this morning,” he groaned, hands sliding up my ribcage to my breasts. “I couldn’t stop looking at you sitting in the pews, wishing we were still in bed together.”
“Oh really?” I fingered the beads around his neck. “Even while you were praying with Caitlin?”
Fuck. I might as well cut off my horns and start identifying as a human with all these petty human emotions. Kimaris was right about that, at least.
“Is that what you’re upset about?” Zach held my chin in his hand, making me look at him.
“Not upset , just…”
“Jealous?” He smirked.
“No,” I scoffed.
“Deyva.” He punctuated my name with a kiss, full of tenderness and desire in equal measure. “I don’t want her like that. I don’t want anyone like that, except you. And Stavros.”
“I have no right to be jealous,” I murmured, leaning my head on his shoulder. My horns scraped the back wall of the confessional. “If you want to be with a woman, it should be a human.”
“Says who?” he challenged. “And why would I, when no human woman compares to you?”
Get off his lap. Stab him with a horn. Tell him about all the souls you acclimated to Hell. Do something to make him stop talking and looking at you like that before you break his sweet little virgin heart.
But I didn’t move. Didn’t argue. And when he pressed a kiss to the corner of my mouth, my lips parted to accept the next one greedily. I was every bit as weak as Kimaris said.
Zach’s hand slid around my waist, coming to my lower stomach between us. “Show me?” he asked again, fingers inching lower.
Without a word, I guided him down over my leggings to my clit.
After I finally grew the stones to stop being selfish, he could please human women this way.
Once I was gone from his life, he’d still have this knowledge.
At least that was what I told myself as I directed his touch in a circular motion over that hard nub.
“Like this?” His breath was already ragged, mouth pressing excited kisses to my throat as his hand worked between my legs.
“Yes, that’s good.” I rode his hand, tangling my fingers in his hair. “You can rub me faster.” The stiff pole in his pants created friction against my inner thighs, but I knew better than to touch him there.
“Fuck, I just want to…” He buried his face in my chest, mussing his hair even worse than my hands.
I pulled off my shirt and bra, balling them up in the corner between the bench and the wall as Zach feasted on my flesh.
“You can touch me too,” he mouthed between my breasts before dragging his lips over to one nipple. “Take me out of my pants.”
“Zach,” I whimpered at the sweet bite of his mouth on my sensitive peak. The combination of that and his hand working tirelessly at my clit had me writhing. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” he groaned, licking a path back up to my neck. “I wasn’t ready in the moment, but I’m dying to feel you touch me again.”
He bucked when I palmed his thick shaft, groping the shape of him before I went for his belt and zipper.
His hand pulled away from between my legs as I freed him, and for a moment I wondered if he had second thoughts.
Before I could ask, his hand slipped into the waistband of my leggings, coming into contact with my bare, slick pussy.
“Oh, you’re wet,” he grunted, dick twitching in my fist. “So wet.”
“You can...oh, Zach! Yes, that!” Exploring fingers had found my entrance already, pressing inside as his thumb swept over my clit.
“Bad little virgin,” I purred, sinking onto his fingers as I twisted my hand around his base. “How did you know to do that?”
His already-blushing face darkened even more. “I...might have seen a video or two before.”
“Naughty.” I clicked my tongue, tightening my grip on his cock. “Good thing you’re at confession, Father.”
“Is that what this is?” He pumped his fingers into me harder, attacking my other breast with his dirty little mouth.
My retort was lost on a moan as I found a rhythm on his hand that was just right. He watched me with hungry eyes, so eager to please and learn. We didn’t speak, only the wet sounds of crashing flesh and ragged breaths filling the small box.
“Zach…” My breath felt stolen from my lungs every time I tried to tell him something, words lost as my brain tried to compute the pleasure coiling inside me like a compressed spring. He wasn’t that close yet, so why did I feel like…
“Zach,” I whimpered, filled with disbelief. “I’m gonna...I’m gonna come!”
“Yes, Deyva.” His growl was low and sexy, something I expected more from Stavros. “Let me feel it.”
My grip had slackened on his cock at some point, trembling hands now clutching his shoulders as I hovered over his lap. His fingers crashed into me up to the last knuckle, curling against my walls for more friction as his thumb remained steady on my clit.
What the fuck? This isn’t supposed to happen! Pleasure overrode my shock as I bit Zach’s shoulder to stifle my scream. The explosive pulses of my release shot out in all directions before settling into heavy bliss.
“Holy shit, Deyva!” Zach’s arms now wrapped around my back, holding me to him. “I think I felt some of your pleasure, that was so fucking hot.”
“I...wow, yeah.”
I couldn’t make any rational sense of it. All my life, I believed I could only feed from someone else’s orgasm. No other succubus or incubus had ever mentioned being able to come like a human.
But then again, no one had ever insisted on pleasing me to that point, either. Stavros had tried, but I brushed him off, assuming it wasn’t possible.
“You okay, there?” Zach nuzzled kisses along the side of my face, as if I wasn’t already melted and gooey enough.
“Yeah, just...recovering.”
He chuckled, the swell of pride from him tasting decadent. “Sit on me when you’re ready.”
“Hm? You mean…?”
“On my cock, yeah.”
The word sounded especially dirty coming from his mouth, and I had to pull away to make sure I heard him correctly. He pushed my leggings down my thighs and I watched dumbly as he wrestled me out of the fabric.
“You want to…?”
“Lose my virginity to you, yes.” He swallowed, looking determined. “I wasn’t sure this morning, but I am now.”
“Zach, that wasn’t that long ago. Are you sure—”
He pressed down on my hips, so swiftly that I had no time to think about resisting, until I was impaled on his cock. The abrupt thickness of him filling me up seemed to push all the air out of my lungs. My fingers curled into his shoulders, finding the string of rosary beads once again.
“No going back now,” he said, his words tight.
I pressed my knees into the bench, lifting myself up his length before lowering back down, his moan reverberating in the enclosed space.
“They’re going to hear you, Father,” I warned, riding him in slow, undulating movements.
“I don’t care.” He pressed me down again, my ass bouncing off his thighs from the impact. “I want this. You and Stavros, I want you both.”
I closed my hand around both sides of the rosary, holding the string of beads taut, just below his throat. “Then sit back and enjoy the ride.”
My mind went blank as I rode him like a rodeo queen, holding the rosary tight around his neck for leverage.
I didn’t let myself think about how much I was growing to care about him, swallowing his moans with hard kisses as my pussy swallowed up his cock.
Nor did I think about how badly I needed to get away, to protect him and the others.
That would just be hypocritical as I encouraged him to grab my ass, to fuck me from below so we crashed into each other with hard smacks of flesh.
The whole church had to know why the confessional rocked and scraped against the wall, but that dark, tiny little box was our whole world for a few moments.
My greedy, selfish ass never wanted it to end.
I couldn’t get enough of his gasps when he was seated all the way inside me, or the red marks on my skin from his hands and mouth.
When he swelled and stiffened, then clutched me like a lifeline as he spilled his release, I forced myself to feed in tiny sips, not wanting to drain him too much. The potency of him washed over me in shivers, like aftershocks of another orgasm.
He stayed inside me while softening, still holding me and panting. I searched for regret, loss, any of that familiar shame or guilt in his taste, but there was none.
“I have a confession, Father,” I whispered, nuzzling a kiss onto his neck.
He huffed out a tired laugh. “What is it?”
“I don’t want to leave.”
He couldn’t know if I was talking about Bethel in its entirety, or the confessional. I wasn’t entirely sure myself, but he just tightened his arms around me and kissed my forehead.
“Then stay right here.”