Bless Me, Father, I Have Sinned (5)

~ Tannie ~

Father Edmund didn't pull out immediately. He stayed buried inside me, his chest heaving heavily against my back. His hand was still wrapped tight around my throat, his nose buried in my hair.

I let out a shaky, breathless laugh, my insides still twitching around him.

"You're shaking, Father," I whispered, tilting my head back as much as the grip on my throat would allow. "Is that your conscience... or are you just not done with me?"

A low growl vibrated against my head. Instead of answering, he suddenly gripped my hips, pulled halfway out, and shoved right back into me.

"Ohh!" I gasped, my fingers clawing at the step above me.

He wasn't fast this time, but he was brutal. He slowly ground his hips against my ass, deliberately rubbing his thick shaft against my g-spot while he leaked inside me.

He did it three, four times, each slow shove making my thighs tremble all over again. He bit down hard on the slope of my shoulder, marking me, making sure I knew he was taking every last bit of pleasure he could get before the guilt caught up to him.

Then he pulled out of me. The sudden absence made me ache, and I felt his warm fluid instantly start to leak down my inner thighs.

He stumbled backward, his knees nearly giving out. He yanked his pants up, his hands shaking he could barely manage the zipper. He wouldn't look at me. His eyes were glued to the crucifix above the altar, his face completely pale.

I turned over slowly, sitting up on the steps. My shirt was ruined, the buttons torn off, leaving my breasts bare and covered in sweat. My skirt was bunched up around my waist.

I stood up, taking my time to smooth down my skirt and gathered the edges of my ruined shirt, tying the fabric into a tight knot at my waist to keep myself covered.

He finally looked at me.

"Look at you," he breathed, his voice trembling. "Look at what you just did. In His house. On the very steps of the altar."

"What we just did, Edmund," I corrected, stepping down from the stairs and walking right up to him. I loved how his breath hitched when I used his actual name. "Don't put this all on me. I didn't force you onto your knees in the confession room and I certainly didn't force you to rip my shirt open."

"You tempted me until I gave in," he hissed, backing up like I had a contagious disease. "You came into my confessional with the sole purpose of dragging me into hell with you. You're a sickness."

"Holy shit, are you hearing yourself right now?" I laughed, leaning in close enough to smell the sweat and sex on his skin.

I reached out, my fingers tracing the tense line of his jaw. He flinched, but he didn't pull away.

"A sickness? Is that what it was when you were choking me? When you came inside me? While you were fucking me, shoving your c*ck in my mouth? While you were eating me so good—"

"Stop it. Shut your mouth," he whispered in a hiss, grabbing my wrist to yank my hand away from his face.

His grip was tight, bruising, but it only made me smile wider.

"I am a man of God. I will repent for this. I will spend the rest of my life on my knees begging for forgiveness, and He will wash this filth away."

"You can pray until your knees bleed, Edmund, but you'll never forget the way I taste," I promised, stepping even closer. "You think a few prayers are going to make you forget how tight I was? How good it felt when you finally broke your vow? You’re ruined. You know it, and God knows it."

"I am not ruined!" he shouted, his voice echoing loudly through the empty church. Tears of frustration and anger finally welled up in his eyes. "This was a moment of weakness. A terrible, horrific mistake. It will never happen again. Do you hear me? Never. I will have you banned from this parish."

"Go ahead. Ban me," I whispered, my voice dripping with confidence. I wrapped my free hand around the back of his neck, pulling his head down so my lips were brushing against his ear. "But every time you look at these altar steps, you're going to see me on them. And the next time you're sitting alone in your confessional... you're going to be wishing it was me on the other side of the screen."

He couldn't even argue anymore because he knew I was right.

I patted his cheek gently, thoroughly satisfied with the wreckage I was leaving behind. "Goodbye, Father. Try to get some sleep."

I turned on my heel and walked away. I didn't bother wiping the wetness dripping down my legs, I wanted to feel it while I walked. I left him standing frozen by the altar, listening to the faint, pathetic sound of his whispered prayers beginning to fill the empty church.

I pushed the doors open and stepped out. The breeze hit my damp skin, making me shiver with a sudden spike of adrenaline.

I felt completely alive.

I glanced back at the dark church one last time. I had broken a priest.

And the best part was, I knew exactly how easy it would be to make him do it again.