Three Weeks Earlier
The convent garden was quiet, and peaceful. It was the only place I could breathe. I was on weeding duty again, another punishment for zoning out during prayers.
Sister Agnes said God sees our hearts.
She was right.
Because my heart wasn’t on God. It was on him.
Kyle had shown up that morning at the food drive. He looked like trouble: leather jacket, messy brown hair, loud motorcycle, and a smirk that could melt steel.
He leaned against his bike, cigarette was between his lips. “Hey, little nun,” he called out. “You’re too pretty for this place. Ever thought about ditching the robes?”
My face went hot.
“I’m not a nun yet,” I mumbled. “And I don’t... ditch things.”
He grinned. “You’d ditch everything for me. I can tell.”
I didn't know what to say.
So I bit my lip and turned away, but he walked right up and grabbed my ass... like he had the right.
I slapped his hand off, my heart was racing. “What the hell?”
I looked around, terrified someone had seen. But the garden was empty.
He just smirked and backed away like it was nothing.
That night, alone in my room, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. His voice. His touch. That heat that burned low in my stomach.
I knelt down in front of the altar and tried so hard to pray it away.
Instead, my hand slid under my nightgown.
I whispered his name, just once. Quiet enough that only God… or maybe Kyle… could hear.
---
Back at the Motel
Kyle’s mouth crashed into mine, and he kissed me harder and rougher now. I kissed him back, pulling him closer. I was desperate. He tasted like smoke and whiskey, and I wanted more.
“Fu¢k, you taste sweet,” he groaned, pushing my top up and grabbing my breasts.
I gasped, arching into him, not even pretending to resist anymore.
“Your body was made for me,” he whispered.
“Kyle, don’t…” I breathed, but even I didn’t believe it.
He kissed down my neck, biting just enough to make me shiver. His mouth closed over my nipple and I nearly lost it.
“You’re not fighting anymore,” he murmured. “You want this.”
“I don’t know what I want,” I whispered. But my body knew. I was already grinding against him, aching for more.
His hand slid between my legs. “Tell me,” he said.
Then his finger slipped inside my pμ$sy.
I gasped. My legs trembled as he tried to force it deeper. Sure it was painful, but I couldn't deny the sweet part of it.
“I shouldn’t…” My voice cracked. “I really shouldn’t.”
“But you will,” he said, adding another finger. I whimpered at the stretch. “Say it.”
Tears welled up in my eyes, but I still said it.
“I want you. Please.”
He groaned, pulling back just enough to look at me. “That’s my girl.”
He shoved his jeans down, and I froze.
His c0ck was big and hard. I couldn't stop staring at the firm veins and how possible this thick length was going to fit.
"Kyle?"
My heart thudded as he positioned himself between my thighs.
His hot cock pressed against my wet entrance, and I shivered.
“Last chance, baby,” he said. “You want me? Or do you want to go back to praying?”
I should have run. But I didn’t.
“I want you,” I whispered.
He smirked. “Thought so.”
Then he pushed his thick rod into me, hard and deep.
I gasped, the pain was sharp and sudden. My nails dug into his back.
“Kyle! Oh my God!”
Tears blurred my vision as my body clenched around him.
“I can’t… it hurts,” I whimpered.
He froze, brushing his lips over my cheek. “You’re tight as fu¢k, angel. Just breathe. You’re okay.”
He held his c0ck still as his hands gripped my hips. But I could feel it throbbing deep inside me.
“You’re taking my c0ck so well. You're doing great.”
Then he started to move, slow at first. The pain slowly faded, it was replaced by pressure and heat.
“Fu¢k, you feel so good,” he groaned, picking up the pace. The sound of skin meeting skin filled the room. “This pussy’s mine now. Gonna fμck you so good you forget how to pray.”
My hips lifted to meet his. I couldn’t help it.
“Kyle…” I moaned, digging my nails into his shoulders. “Please… slower…”
“Say my name,” he growled, rubbing my cl!t fast and rough. “Come on. Show me how filthy my little angel really is.”
My phone buzzed again. And I turned to look at it.
Mom.
Her name lit up the screen.
Shame hit me hard, but Kyle didn’t stop. He just went harder.
“Kyle!” I cried out. “I feel–something’s–!”
“You’re close,” he said. “Don’t hold back. Let go.”
And I did.
My whole body tensed, then shattered. I came hard, crying out his name, shaking as everything spilled over.
“Kyle–!”
“Fu¢k!” he groaned, slamming in one last time before he came deep inside me.
And I loved it.
God help me… I loved every second.
---
TO BE CONTINUED…
---
Author's Note:
Hey everyone! Thanks for diving back in with Mirabel and Kyle. This chapter gives us a little peek into how their story started and the secret connection that's been building between them. It’s one thing to feel a pull, but another to act on it, right? Mirabel is officially in uncharted territory now, and I’m so excited for you to see what she does next. What do you think about their first meeting? Let me know in the comments!
Kyle’s motorcycle came to a stop just outside the convent’s side path; the one we took to avoid being seen.My legs barely worked.Everything hurt. My thighs, my pμ$sy… I could still feel him inside me from earlier. He had wrecked me, over and over again.“You getting off?” Kyle asked, cocky as ever. “Or wanna sneak behind the trees for one more round?”I smacked his back, trying not to smile. “Kyle, seriously. We’re at the convent.”“So?” He looked me up and down, his eyes looked hungry.I slid off the bike, wincing. Every step was a reminder of what we did. What he did to me.I adjusted my habit, but I could still feel the bruises under it. My skin felt hot where he had touched me.“Jesus,” he muttered, his eyes locked on me. “You look even hotter all messed up like that.”I blushed, biting my lip. Then he grabbed my wrist and yanked me close, kissing me hard.“Kyle–” I whispered, pushing at his chest. “Stop. My lips are still swollen. They’ll notice.”He smirked. “Let them. Let the
“I want you,” I gasped. “I need you, Kyle. Please… just fu¢k me.”Kyle groaned, grinding his hard c0ck against me. I was already wet, ready for him.“That’s my filthy little nun,” he said, voice was low and rough. “I’m gonna fu¢k you so good you forget everything else.”He pushed in slowly, stretching me wide. I cried out, my nails digging into his shoulders.It hurt, but not in a way that made me stop. My hips moved without thinking, trying to meet every thrust.“Kyle,” I moaned louder, “Oh God…”He smirked, one hand slipping to my throat, not squeezing, just holding. His control made me tremble.“You’re taking me so well,” he murmured. “Look at you. All mine.”His other hand found my nipple and pinched. I gasped, clenching around him.“This is what you were made for,” he said. “Not a convent. This. Me.”Tears welled in my eyes. The pain. The pleasure. The chaos. It was too much and not enough at the same time.“I can’t go back,” I whispered, shaking. “I can’t live like that anymore.
I woke up sore. Every inch of me ached: my thighs, my back, and especially between my legs.I blinked against the sunlight peeking through the blinds. My body was sticky, sweaty, and still full of him. But we weren’t at the motel anymore.I sat up slowly, wincing as a sharp sting pulsed between my legs. The sheets were a mess. My phone sat beside me, it was silent. But Mom’s name was still burned into my brain.“How did we even get here?” I croaked. My throat hurt, probably from screaming his name all night.I glanced down. My breasts were bruised, nipples sore, lips swollen from all his kisses. I gently touched my pμ$sy, it was still raw and still wet.Flashes of last night hit me hard: Kyle slamming his thick c0ck into me, whispering filthy things, kissing me like he owned me.Then I turned my head.He was next to me. Naked and sleeping peacefully. One arm was behind his head, and the other was across his stomach. His body was unreal: lean, muscular, covered in just the right amount
Three Weeks EarlierThe convent garden was quiet, and peaceful. It was the only place I could breathe. I was on weeding duty again, another punishment for zoning out during prayers.Sister Agnes said God sees our hearts.She was right.Because my heart wasn’t on God. It was on him.Kyle had shown up that morning at the food drive. He looked like trouble: leather jacket, messy brown hair, loud motorcycle, and a smirk that could melt steel.He leaned against his bike, cigarette was between his lips. “Hey, little nun,” he called out. “You’re too pretty for this place. Ever thought about ditching the robes?”My face went hot.“I’m not a nun yet,” I mumbled. “And I don’t... ditch things.”He grinned. “You’d ditch everything for me. I can tell.”I didn't know what to say.So I bit my lip and turned away, but he walked right up and grabbed my ass... like he had the right.I slapped his hand off, my heart was racing. “What the hell?”I looked around, terrified someone had seen. But the garden
STORY TITLE (1): Breaking My Vows for HimThe phone rang on the nightstand. I turned to look, and my stomach dropped.Mom’s name lit up the screen.I didn’t have time to panic. Kyle was between my legs, his mouth making me forget how to breathe. His tongue moved in slow, perfect circles, and my body responded instantly.Everything I was supposed to be: pure, devoted, days away from taking my vows, vanished the second he touched me. We were holed up in some cheap motel out of town. Kyle had brought me here about an hour ago, and since then he had been working me open, trying too hard to stretch my tight, wet hole.I fumbled for the phone… and answered.“Mirabel? Sweetheart? Are you okay?” Mom’s voice crackled through. She sounded worried. “You haven’t called. Sister Agnes says you’ve been distant. What’s going on?”I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Kyle’s hands held me still. His stubble scraped my thighs, and a soft moan escaped before I could stop it.I slapped my hand over my