Chapter 16 Jace
Jace
Elior stepped forward into my arms, his sexy body finally fully on display for me. He let out a cute, startled squeak and wrapped his legs around my waist as I cupped his ass and lifted him. Keeping a firm grip on those plump cheeks, I turned and walked us out of his bedroom.
Elior wiggled in my hold. “Wait, where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
With each step, Elior’s cock rubbed against my abs, pulling whimpers and moans out of him.
As I neared the door leading out into the chapel, Elior tensed, his heart thumping wildly.
“You’re not taking us out there, are you?” he whispered, his voice tight with anxiety. When I didn’t answer, he continued, “Jace, no. Please don’t—” His protest quickly died in his throat, replaced by a low whine as we reached the door.
I opened it and took the first step into the darkened sanctuary.
“Please, no, we can’t,” Elior pleaded, starting to struggle against me.
“Shhh, baby,” I cooed, continuing to walk us to the dais. “No one will know.”
“But the windows…”
“It’s dark in here and dark out there; they won’t be able to see. Not to mention that everyone’s asleep.”
“Please, can’t we go back to my room? Please, Daddy,” he begged.
“No.”
Elior’s fingers dug into my neck and shoulder where he was clutching. His nails bit into my skin, and the slight sting sent a wave of arousal down my spine.
His body trembled harder as we climbed onto the dais. I peppered kisses along his throat, jawline, and cheek, cooing softly in an attempt to soothe his nerves.
Finally, I came to a stop at the base of the so-called Seat of Light. “Look at me, cherub.”
Elior came out of his hiding spot in the crook of my neck, big pale blue eyes blinking at me.
“There’s my angel,” I murmured, admiring the light pink hue spreading across his cheeks.
As carefully as I could, I flipped him around so his back was pressed against my chest. He squeaked, coming face to face with his holy pedestal.
Before he could hurt himself by fighting my hold, I pushed his upper body onto the seat, his chest flat against the cool stone.
Like this, his ass was just off the edge with his legs dangling below.
I hummed with pleasure as I took him in, erotically draped onto the chair he was worshiped in.
The tip of his little cock brushed against the stone, painting it with a small gush of precum.
I ran my hand down his spine in awe. “I can’t even tell you the number of times I’ve fantasized about this.”
My fingers pressed into the two divots on his sacrum, getting a shudder in return.
“Daddy…”
Leaving his dimples behind, my hands slid down to his ass, pulling his cheeks apart to get a good look at his pretty little hole.
“Do you have anointing oil or something like that up here?”
“Oh, um, yeah. Why?”
“Where is it kept, baby?”
“U-under the table back there,” he answered.
I pressed my hand to his back. “Stay right there, cherub. Don’t move.”
He whimpered, nodding frantically, his eyes darting toward the shadowed windows.
I released him and strode to the table at the back of the dais, my cock throbbing hard with every step.
The chapel’s cool air kissed my heated skin as I knelt, rummaging under the table, lips tipping up as my fingers closed around a small vial of anointing oil.
Perfect. I uncorked it, inhaling the faint herbal scent, then returned to my prize.
Elior hadn’t budged, his small cock leaking steadily onto the holy stone, body quivering. I drizzled oil directly onto his exposed hole, watching it clench and wink. “Fuck, look at that greedy little asshole begging for Daddy’s cock.”
“J-Jace…” he gasped, toes curling.
I poured more oil into my palm, slicking my fingers before pressing two against his rim. He bucked, a sharp cry escaping, but I held him down. “Relax, baby. Let Daddy open you up on your throne.”
“No, please—”
Circling his pucker, I pushed in slowly, feeling his tight ring yield. Heat gripped my digits as I sank knuckle-deep, twisting to stretch him. Elior moaned, pushing back despite his nerves, his hole fluttering around me.
“You belong to me now, cherub,” I growled, pumping my fingers faster as he mewled and thrashed around.
“P-please—back to—bed—hngh.”
“No, needy little sluts don’t get to make decisions. You need your Daddy for that, don’t you?”
“Daddyyy,” he moaned.
“You’re so fucking perfect, baby.”
“Please—”
“Say you belong to me, cherub,” I grunted.
Elior cried, “I b-belong to you!”
“Good boy,” I growled, adding a third finger. I scissored them wide, pumping in and out, the wet squelch echoing faintly in the sanctuary. Oil dripped down his crack, soaking his tight, drawn balls. His small cock twitched, spurting yet another bead of precum onto the seat.
“Daddy, please… It’s too much… someone might hear,” he whined, but his hips rolled, fucking himself on my hand. “Not here, pleaseee—ahh!”
I leaned over him, breath hot on his ear.
“They won’t. And even if they did, they’d just see their holy Vessel getting his ass worshiped like he deserves.
” I curled my fingers, nailing his prostate.
He shrieked, body convulsing, a puddle of fluid building at the base of the Seat.
“They’d all be dripping with jealousy, watching as I fuck their idol. ”
Pulling my fingers free with an obscene pop, I slathered my aching cock with oil, fisting the shaft once, twice, groaning at the glide.
Positioning behind him, I nudged my blunt head against his slick hole. “Beg for it, Elior. Beg your Daddy to defile you.”
He sobbed, nails scraping stone. “Please, Daddy… I’m yours.”
With a grunt, I snapped my hips forward, burying half my length in one thrust. His rim stretched taut around me, sucking me deeper. Elior screamed, muffled into his arm, but I clamped a hand over his mouth, pounding the rest in balls-deep.
“Fuck, so tight, little virgin,” I hissed, bottoming out. His walls clenched like a vice, milking my cock. I gripped his hips, bruising, and started railing him—hard, deep thrusts that slapped my balls against his.
Elior’s muffled cries soon turned to slutty moans, both his body and mind surrendering, ass cheeks jiggling with each brutal plunge. Oil and precum dripped to the floor under us.
“Your hole feels like heaven,” I moaned.
I used my hold on his face to pull him back a bit so I could get a look at his face.
His eyes were glazed, completely fuck-drunk.
“Yeah, I knew you’d love being Daddy’s cocksleeve.
So sensitive, so lost to pleasure. So eager to please.
Absolutely fucking perfect. Fuck. I’m never letting you go, cherub. Never.”
Elior’s hole clenched, and he drooled onto my palm. I reached around, pinching his leaking cockhead as I pummeled into him. “Come for me, cherub. Soak your stupid chair while Daddy breeds you.”
He shattered, his hole spasming wildly as ropes of cum shot from his small dick, splattering the stone in sticky white.
The sight pushed me over. Balls drawing tight, I slammed deep and erupted, flooding his guts with hot spurts.
I’d never orgasmed so hard before. It felt like my entire fucking existence was being rewritten.
After the last drop had been drained from my balls, I slumped over him, panting. My cock was still twitching inside of him. My thighs trembled.
I stroked his damp temple, brushing sweaty strands of hair away. My other hand stayed planted on his hip, my thumb rubbing circles into his skin.
“Such a perfect angel. God, I love you.”
Elior, breathless and barely conscious, murmured back, “I love you too.”
* * *
I shouldn’t have been smiling—not after the day we’d had. Malachi was spiraling out of control. It had only been a few hours ago when he’d announced a congregation-wide fast. His followers were growing restless, their faith being tested daily by his breakdown.
But lying here now, long after Elior had drifted off to sleep for the night, the faint warmth of him still pressed into my front…
Yeah. I was smiling.
Possession wasn’t even the right word for the dark feeling swirling in my chest. It was deeper than that, deeper than anything I’d planned on. He belonged with me—every instinct I had screamed it.
And ever since that night I’d taken his virginity, he’d been different.
Touchy. Curious. Hungry in this shy, needy way that made my pulse jump every damn time.
The second we were alone, his hands found mine.
Or my waist. Or the front of my shirt. As if he couldn’t stop reaching for me. As if he didn’t want to.
And whenever I kissed him, he melted—every single time. I could feel how much he craved it, how much he craved me. It was like watching a starved plant finally getting water.
And maybe it was selfish, but I liked it.
I liked being the one he reached for.
I liked being the one who could make him fall apart with just a look.
I liked knowing that the pleasure he was discovering was tied to me and only me.
I wanted him addicted to it, and it was working. I saw it in the way Elior’s eyes melted, and his lashes fluttered when he looked at me, in how quickly he came undone with the smallest touch, in the way he’d tug me close with these trembling little breaths.
Elior talked about Father less now—way less. Just days ago, every other sentence had included Father said, or Father wants, or Father believes. But now?
The word hardly ever crossed his lips when we were together.
Instead, Daddy rolled off his tongue as easily as water.
And more than the word, more than the thrill it sparked through me, it was the look in his eyes when he said it—soft, trusting, wanting.
Like Malachi wasn’t the center of his world anymore.
Like someone else was finally taking that place.
I ran a hand over my face, a slow exhale leaving me.
Good.
It was about damn time someone replaced that monster in Elior’s heart.