Chapter 15
RAFAEL
THE SECOND I’D stepped into Alessio’s home, it was as if the last fifteen years hadn’t happened. I was right back there with him, back to when he was my entire world, and it felt so immediately right that I forgot why I’d gone there at all.
My mouth still remembered his. My body still fell apart under his touch. Even now I wanted him to the point where it felt physically painful to walk away.
With every step I took heading back to the rectory, it felt like someone had shoved their arm through my chest, fisted my heart, and squeezed until I thought I would fall to my knees.
Why was this getting harder when it should be so simple? There wasn’t a choice to make here; I’d already made it years ago. There was no world in which Alessio and I could be anything more than friends, and even that was proving impossible. He wanted more from me than I could give, and I…
I stopped walking and stood there, in the middle of the sidewalk, my breath coming too fast and sweat slicking my skin. The city buzzed around me, alive and thriving, reminding me that this was reality. Not the one I’d just left, where only the two of us existed.
Someone bumped into my shoulder as they passed, took one look at me, and mumbled, “Sorry, father,” before continuing on.
Father. That’s who I was. It was a slap in the face, a reminder of how far I’d fallen so quickly, of how just one decision could snowball, and the rising panic inside me was proof of that.
The problem was that my body hadn’t accepted the message yet, still on fire and vibrating from Alessio’s touch. I slowly turned around, facing the direction of his apartment. It wasn’t an option to go back. I knew that. I just needed to get my feet on the same page.
My feet…my mind…my body.
He’s not mine. Lord, please give me the strength to walk away. If this is a test, help me through it. Help me remember my place and my promise to You. Forgive me for being so weak.
I rubbed my chest as I forced myself to head back to the rectory. Just one step at a time. My heart thumped wildly beneath my palm, refusing to slow down, seeming to protest more the closer I got to St. Andrews.
How was it the world was still turning? That everyone around me carried on like they couldn’t see I was clearly falling apart?
Did I hide it that well? Could they not see Alessio’s kisses burned over my skin the way I felt them?
Part of me felt the shame of being branded that way, but the more distressing realization was that I was turned on by it, exhilarated in a messed-up way that I had proof of Alessio’s desire for me, even though that was the last thing I should want.
I walked faster, needing to put some distance between us.
Once I was back home, back on the grounds of St. Andrews, common sense would prevail. So would duty, clarity, purpose.
I pushed open the gates to the garden and headed inside, the lights that illuminated the green space now making the journey feel forbidden. I’d taken this path, from church to rectory, in the dark of night before, but never once had I had this sense of eyes watching me.
Then again, I’d never walked through this garden after spending time alone in a man’s house, in his arms, with his mouth devouring mine.
I picked up my pace, needing to get inside, needing to get away from the temptation that lay outside the hedge walls, my struggle feeling close to impossible.
Don’t look up. Don’t look up. Don’t. Look. Up.
I just needed to get inside, shower, then go to bed. Tomorrow was a new day. One that would shine light on my downfall. Show clarity in my missteps. One where I’d be able to atone for my sins.
I unlocked the door to the rectory and, the second I was inside, tore off my collar. For the first time ever I felt unworthy of wearing it. The purity it symbolized no longer applied to me, not when my lips were still swollen. Not when I could still feel Alessio’s hands under my shirt.
I squeezed my eyes shut and leaned back against the door, praying for forgiveness, praying for strength. But when I reopened my eyes and they caught on the light shining through my window from outside, I heard nothing in response.
Nothing except the beating of my heart.
Go to sleep, I told myself as I looked at the too-small bed on the other side of the sparse room.
But instead of seeing a refuge, a place I could close my eyes and alleviate the burden of my thoughts, all I could see was a bed that would be too narrow to hold more than one.
A bed that would demand tangled arms and legs.
Once again my attention shifted back to the window, to the light that beckoned, and I knew the only way I was going to get any peace of mind tonight was to snuff it out.
I crossed the hardwood floor, more determined than ever to put an end to my torment. But the second I reached the window and took hold of the curtain, I realized my error.
Alessio stood at his window, several floors up. But it wasn’t his silhouette I was staring at this time. He’d flicked on a soft light that illuminated him like a beacon, seducing me without words.
He’d removed his shirt and stood in only a pair of jeans, and, God as my witness, I didn’t think I’d ever seen a more beautiful sight in my life.
His broad shoulders, muscled chest and arms, and the olive color of his skin—it was all too much to take in, and for someone as hungry as I was, I found it difficult not to feast on what he’d so obviously put on display for me.
And there was no mistaking it. His appearance in that window tonight was all for me. He was showing me what I’d walked away from, what I’d turned down, and giving me a glimpse of what I’d never have again.
It was brutally effective, too. I couldn’t tear my eyes away.
Not when he moved closer to the window, and not when he reached for the button on his jeans.
No, I begged silently. Please don’t…
Was God even hearing my pleas? He was nowhere to be found as Alessio slid the zipper down, his jeans parting to reveal his erection punching through his dark briefs.
Ever so slowly, like he wanted to draw this out to torture me, he trailed his fingers down over himself.
With the way my body reacted, it felt like his hand was on me, my arousal throbbing so hard it was painful not to touch myself. To give in and ease the ache he caused.
I had no right to be watching this. No excuse. My prayers went unanswered, and I wasn’t strong enough to resist what my body was doing without my consent.
This was wrong. Not because of him, but because…
I was watching. Still watching, even as his large hand ran up and down his covered cock in a way that had me biting hard into my lower lip.
The chains he wore around his neck swayed against his chest with every stroke, Alessio’s head falling back slightly from what had to be sheer ecstasy.
But he never broke eye contact.
He watched me watching him, and that seemed to get him off even more.
The hand he wasn’t using on his cock slapped flat against the window to steady himself, and the picture he made had me inadvertently reaching down to touch myself.
I didn’t even know I was doing it until a small smile curled Alessio’s lips and he shoved the band of his briefs down to reveal his dick.
My breath caught in my throat at the sight of him.
I’d once been so intimately familiar with every inch of Alessio, including the nine between his thighs.
I could remember how thick and hot he felt under my tongue, how his arousal would bead along the slit and I’d eagerly lick it up, unable to get enough.
Those talented fingers of his wrapped around the base of his dick, presenting it to me like an offering—one he began to jerk, slowly at first. His movements got faster, though, and I found myself rubbing my own erection through my pants.
My heart was pounding, sending all the blood down to my cock.
It was begging for release, for me to join Alessio and take what he was giving me.
Even after pushing me away, he still wanted me, and God help me, I wanted him too.
A light flickered in my periphery from somewhere outside, sending a sudden shock of panic through me. Sucking in a breath, I stepped back from the window as reality hit me cold in the face.
What was I doing? It felt like I’d been in a trance, like Alessio and I were the only two people that existed. But he’d bared himself in a window where anyone could see, and I…
I looked down at the state of me, the button of my slacks somehow undone and a very obvious erection from Alessio’s actions. From imagining more. Wanting more.
Desperately needing more.
My hand flew to the lamp, my fingers shaking as I turned it off, plunging my room into darkness.
Had anyone seen me? It was bad enough that Alessio had, that he’d watched me give in to him even after I’d told him I didn’t want this. He’d told me to leave, hadn’t followed through with taking what he so easily could have, and I hated the way part of me wished he hadn’t stopped.
More than part of me, if I were being honest.
But no. We couldn’t do this.
I looked back up at him, his brow creased, his hand still wrapped around himself even though it was no longer moving.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered as I drew the curtain shut, erasing him from my view.
I stood there in the dark, my body aching, and my mind at war with itself as I wondered who exactly I was apologizing to.
Alessio? Myself?
Or God?