Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Catarina
Imake it to the doors, stopping before entering. This place is the home of one of the worst moments in my life. One of the nightmares I have regularly. But, I swear I can feel it shifting. Maybe the path once destined as a path of pain has the opportunity to become something entirely different.
What we were is gone—when I walk out, I won’t be the same.
I open the door and tiptoe in. Even though it’s dark, with the only light trickling in from the moon, I can see that Zed’s eyes are locked on me.
I swear I can feel them searing into my retinas like a brand.
My trembling knees make me feel like a fawn learning to walk.
The silence between us trickles into my lungs, suffocating me.
We both know exactly where this is headed, and there’s no stopping it now.
Not that I would want to. I attempt to swallow but all the moisture leaves my mouth as I walk around the column of pews and catch the shadow on his jeans.
He’s already hard. I smile, although I’m unsure if he can see it since the window is to my back now as I walk directly into him.
I slide my fingers under the hem of my shirt, dragging the fabric up inch by inch, exposing my black lace bra. I know his eyes are glued to me—I feel them.
It’s so quiet that I hear the exact moment his breathing stops. The air is cool against my bare skin, but the heat between us is making up for it. I look down at the shades of blue and violet shifting over my body. The way he looks at me sends a thrill down my spine.
The space between us is nearly gone, and the closer I step the tighter the emotions I’m feeling coil around my insides.
No sooner than I step within his reach, fingers curl tightly into my hair.
He grabs the back of my head, pulling me into him and placing a kiss on my cheek.
I feel his hot breath against my ear. “I respect you.” I’m unable to question why he said that before he continues.
“I need you to know that, because I’m about to act like I don’t.
” His words settle, causing my thighs to clench, and he nips at my ear before continuing. “Now, don’t make me tear the rest off.”
He lets go of me and I tilt my head. “Maybe I want you to tear it off.”
He smiles, and I see his tongue slide over his teeth as I reach behind my back and unclasp my bra. I feel my nipples tighten against the cool air when the lace slides down my arms before falling to the floor. His voice does something to me, and I feel my inner thighs becoming wet.
“Get up there.” He gestures toward the pulpit, pushing me up the altar steps as he follows closely behind.
When I’m beside the cross-shaped podium, he walks around, circling me like a buzzard.
I feel his fingertips graze over my shoulder and back before coming full circle, ending on my chest. “This spot. The pulpit. It’s almost poetic, don’t you think?
” My body goes rigid at his tone that’s dark yet somehow full of amusement. “Where they force feed us their lies.”
“Try to box you in.” My chest only allows me to inhale short and shallow breaths.
“This is the same spot I hurt you,” he says, his tone soft. His words don’t have to say he’s sorry. I hear it in his voice.
“I’m going to make sure you have a lot of memories to choose from, that will replace that one.”
He walks down the altar’s steps to the front pew, adjusting himself and taking a seat, leaning back against the pew with his legs spread. “Does all of the blood rush to your sweet little pussy standing where the righteous come to kneel?” He draws out his words, toying with them.
I unbutton my jeans and begin pushing them down. The stiff fabric slips over my hips and down my legs before pooling in a pile below my feet. “Of course it does. I mean—” There’s a pause. “Just look at you.”
I hear the smile behind his words when he asks, “Would you pray to me? Tell me, are you willing to offer yourself”—he places his hand on his chest—“to me the way they beg you to offer yourself to god?”
They say praying is for salvation and forgiveness.
But there’s nothing holy about the way I need him.
I don’t want his mercy. I want all of the ways his hands will ruin me, I want his mouth to drag any unspoken prayer, or confession, from my lips until I’m empty.
Heat rises in my cheeks, and I find the strength to finally force my voice to say, “That depends. Will you answer my prayers?”
The sudden weight of his stare feels like I’ve already been stripped bare. I watch him lean forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. He’s well aware that he doesn’t need to touch me, the heat from his gaze does all the work for him.
A soft sigh falls from his mouth as he continues this sexual sermon.
“Kneel, confess, surrender. Let every prayer that spills from your lips be mine to answer. Whatever you need is yours. No plea is too desperate. I will offer no empty promises, just the certainty that I will always hear you. I will always answer.” He’s not just asking for my body—no, he’s asking for me.
I can’t help but flinch at his words, not because they’re painful, but because it feels like he reached inside of me and yanked out every truth I’ve never been allowed to have.
Questions flood my mind and my concentration falters.
What if I’m not worth loving? What if the kind of love I want isn’t something normal people crave?
What is normal? What if I was never meant to be soft?
Right now, all of that noise is suddenly silenced.
I don’t care if it’s good or safe or right.
I just want him—I want him to want me. And I’ll take everything that comes with that.
There isn’t anything in this world I’d beg for more.
So I let go and let god—except this time, it’s the god of my choosing. “Please,” I say, voice airy.
He looks at me, and I feel the possessive confidence wrap around me. It isn’t forceful but it’s certain, and I know I belong to him.
He stands. “Kneel.”
It’s not a suggestion, it’s an order, and without a moment’s thought, I obey. For the first time in my life, I’m listening. I drop down, shifting my knees against the rough carpet.
“Why don’t you show me your devotion. Every inch of you is mine.” His growl bounces from pillar to pillar. “Crawl to me.”
I bend at the waist and drop down my torso, shifting into a crawling stance. My limbs start to move, trailing down the stairs. I never break eye contact, using each motion to tease him.
A smirk tugs at the corner of my lips because even here, even on my knees, I still feel in control. Even though he’s who I’m crawling for, I’m crawling because I want to. He’s mine just as much as I’m his.
The harsh fibers beneath my palms bite into my skin, and I look down to watch my movements, placing one in front of the other.
I stop just short of touching his feet, my eyes locked on his.
“Stand,” he commands, and I push myself up.
His fingers tickle as they make their way up my side, the sensation causing prickles to erupt beneath his touch before they wrap around my breast, his thumb teasing my nipple.
I suck in a breath when he gives it an aggressive pinch as he steps into me.
“Bend over the pew.” My knees hike to the seat of the pew, and I lean my body forward over the back before my mind has even caught up just as he reaches out.
His fingers follow the hem of my panties, tracing over my hips and ass before dropping lower to trace over my lips, and I feel the effects of what he’s doing to me drip down the inside of my thighs.
A whimper slips past my lips and I close my eyes, waiting.
In a single movement his fingers hook around the waistband of my panties before tearing them away with a sharp snap.
I take in a breath, but before I can make a sound, he’s shoving the damp fabric into my mouth, shutting me up.
“Taste the mess you made, suck them clean.”
A sudden crack cuts through the air as a sharp sting lands on my ass. I cry out, the burn of his hand lingers, and I feel heat begin to spread through me, tensing my muscles.
“I don’t hear any sucking.” Before he can spank me again, loud slurping noises come from my mouth as I drink myself from the wet material of my panties.
He adjusts my position, realizing it would be easier if he bent me over the side, and pushes me forward, allowing my fingers to trail down the cool wood beneath me.
I trace my fingertips over the cross that’s engraved on the surface.
What was once a sign of holiness, is now pressed beneath my fingers as he takes what’s his.
He guides my fingers to tighten around the wood.
“Hold on.” I hear the quiet click of his belt buckle coming undone, followed by the rough drag of his zipper.
The corner of wood bites into my skin, but I don’t care, not when he’s behind me clamping his hands around my waist.
My entire body lights up when he pulls me closer and pushes inside of me.
The sensation of the stretch and searing burn when he fills me causes me to dig my nails into the cross.
My body moves forward on instinct. “Stop running.” He pushes into me again; this time his hands are on my shoulders, making certain I don’t move away from him again.
His thrusts are relentless and I feel myself clamp down on him.
“You feel amazing.” His voice is rough with need.
“So fucking tight. I knew you would be.”
I can’t stop the moans pouring from me.
“That’s it,” he says, his voice low and commanding. “There’s the prayer I wanted to hear.” His pace quickens, causing the sound of skin against skin to fill the air.
My pleasure is building, coiling tight around my stomach muscles. He groans, and I feel his body tense up, then suddenly he’s pulling out of me, completely ruining my near orgasm. “Wh-what the fuck?!” I spit at him between breaths, and he laughs. This asshole thinks this is funny?
My back is overextended and I feel the strain from the angle I’m in.
I go to stand, straightening my posture when his voice cuts through the silence.
“I didn’t tell you to stand.” I freeze, listening to his footsteps shifting behind me, before he backs away from me causing a chill to replace his warmth.
I hear a light ting, like something metal is being slid around. “Come here.”
I turn to find him on the altar, sitting.
The moon gives me the perfect view of his hard and throbbing cock.
Maybe there is a god, because I find it hard to believe that just fit inside of me.
No wonder I’m burning. He spits on himself before beginning to stroke up and down his shaft, and I watch as his hand begins to move faster.
I can smell myself on him the closer I get.
"Clean me off. Suck my dick so filthy, even he would turn away.” I drop to my knees and lean forward.
The warmness of my lips brushing against the tip of his cock causes him to let out a groan, and the sting of his hand in my hair is revived.
I open my mouth, tasting him. Loud slurping fills the air before I pull off and run my tongue against the sides of his dick.
The taste of us pulls a moan from me and I know he feels the vibrations because he tightens his grip before forcing me back down.
He guides my lips down his length, stopping when his tip hits the back of my throat.
I gag, but he only gives me a second to pull away and suck in a single breath before pushing my head further onto him, plunging him deeper in my throat.
I can’t see anything through the tears, but he lets out a low, guttural moan and his hips buck against me, telling me he’s losing control, inch by inch.
“Tell me how much you love my cock in your mouth.” The sound leaving my mouth is muffled but unmistakable.
He laughs before pulling me off of him, leaving my mouth with a quick pop.
I see his cock glistening now that it’s covered in my saliva.
He slides his hand down my cheek before giving me a hard slap, the sound reaching the ceiling and bouncing back down. The pain only makes me wetter.
My body arches over and he pulls me back down, forcing me to take him deeper into my throat.
His thrusts are frantic, getting faster by the second.
“You’re going to need to be as wet as possible for what’s coming next.
” A mix between a moan and groan leaves his lips before he says, “So don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop."
My neck is burning from the quick movements when I hear him let out a deep moan.
His thighs begin to shake as he cries out.
Suddenly, warm cum fills my mouth, and I keep sucking even as it starts to trickle down my chin.
I suck until he’s completely empty, knowing this by the way I see him flinch.
He pulls me up by my hair, and I try to catch my breath before looking at him.
I watch him reach over to grab something before holding it out to me, and I struggle to focus on what it is.
The light bouncing off of the shiny metal causes the statue to look like it’s glowing.
“You’re going to pray in ways you never thought possible, but it’s not going to be for mercy.
Put it in.” I stare at him, struggling to process what he’s asking.
“W-what?"
"Put this in your pussy, fuck yourself with it while you take me in your throat. Show me how much you want it to be my cock."
I reach out and take the prayer hands from him; the statue is heavier than I expected.
I try to steady my hands that are shaking from the mixture of exhaustion and adrenaline pulsing through my body.
I relax before trailing my hand between my thighs, and when the cold surface presses against my pussy, I shudder.
I push it in, gasping as it glides deeper inside of me. It isn’t large like him, I’m just already so tender and swollen. The sudden sensation makes me moan, my body arches trying to adjust to the feeling.
“Good girl.” He gives my cheek a light slap. “Now, back to work."