CHAPTER 7: SANCTIFIED SINS

“Turn over,” Elias said, moving away from me.

“What?” I whimpered in confusion, watching as he moved to sit at the edge of the bed.

His face was no longer the calm one of a caring priest. It was starved and predatory; a man who had spent fifteen years burying his hunger under layers of scripture and stiff collars.

Before I could think, he grabbed my waist, his large hands sinking into my flesh with a bruising strength, flipped me onto my stomach, and pulled me into his lap in one fluid motion.

The suddenness of it stole the air from my lungs. My face was pressed into the cool cotton of his duvet, my heart hammering against my ribs. I felt him gather the hem of his t-shirt I was wearing and bunch it up around my waist, exposing my naked ass to the chilled air of the room.

“You ass is just so perfect,” he whispered, caressing my cheeks. “So plump and soft. Do you know how many times I’ve had to ask for forgiveness because of the thoughts this ass ignited in me?”

Then he spanked me hard.

The sound was sharp, a stinging explosion of heat across my right buttock.

I let out a cry, my fingers digging into the mattress. Before I could even process the pain, the second one landed on the left.

Crack.

He wasn't holding back. This wasn't a lover’s tap; it was a reckoning.

He used his open palm, the weight of his hand carrying years of repressed, agonizing celibacy. With every strike, he murmured my sins that turned the act into a dark ritual.

“This… is for every time you sat in that front pew without a bra,” Crack. “Looking at me like you knew exactly what I was thinking.” Crack. “This is for the restroom.” Crack. “And this… this is for making me pray for strength I didn’t want to have.”

My skin was screaming, a blossoming fire of red-hot needles. But beneath the pain, a terrifying, electric pleasure was coiling in my gut.

My pussy was leaking, sending thick pulses of slick down my thighs as sharp pleasure vibrated through me.

I was sobbing now, the humiliation and the arousal blurring into a singular, overwhelming need.

“Please, Elias!” I choked out. Not really knowing what I was begging for.

“It’s Father to you,” he snapped, and the next blow was so hard my vision swam.

He shifted his palm forward, till his fingers grazed my pussy lips with his hits. Each thump against my pussy spikes of pleasure up my spine.

He was relentless, raining down strikes until my entire backside was a throbbing, uniform heat.

I whimpered as I felt the first wave of a forced orgasm beginning to crest. It was a violent release triggered by the sheer intensity of the sensory overload.

My back arched, and I muffled my scream in the bed as my muscles locked, my body shaking with a climax that felt like a punishment.

He didn't give me a second to breathe.

As the tremors were still wracking my frame, he shoved two gloved fingers into my pulsing pussy with a force that made me gasp. Then his thumb found my swollen clit and grinding against it with a brutal, circular motion.

I closed my eyes, my mouth opened with a soundless scream as the overload of sensational pleasure turned my vision white. It was like the sharp mix of pleasure and abrupt pain turned off my brain. Leaving nothing but raw nerves.

“Open your eyes,” he commanded, reaching forward to grab my hair and pulling my head back so I had to see him in the vanity mirror across the room.

In the reflection, I saw a stranger. His face was contorted with a hunger so raw it was frightening.

He was watching his hand move between my thighs, his eyes dark and dilated. He began to work his fingers in a rhythmic, punishing pace, his knuckles hitting my entrance with every thrust.

“You’re being so good for me, baby girl,” he hissed. “Look at how you take it. You were born for this, weren’t you? To be used by a man who knows exactly how to break you.”

His other hand moved to my breasts, reaching under me to find my hardened nipples.

I let out a jagged moan as he pinched them hard, his calloused fingertips rolling the sensitive buds until the pain made me whimper.  

He bit at the sensitive skin of my shoulder, marking me with deep, purple hickeys that would stay for a week. He was claiming me, marking his territory with the desperation of a starving animal.

The second orgasm was a slow, agonizing build.

Every time I reached the edge, he would slow down, whispering filthy, sanctified promises in my ear. He did this over and over again until I was begging, sobbing for the release.

When he finally let me cum, it was like a dam breaking. I collapsed into the bed, still twitching with after tremors, my breath coming in jagged gasps. I couldn’t think or move, my body feeling like it had been put through a thresher.

I turned my head, startled when I heard the frantic rustle of fabric, to see him kicking away his joggers.

Before I could say anything, he simply gripped my hips, his fingers bruising my skin, and drove himself into me in one deep thrust.

I screamed. He was too big, too thick, a solid length of heat that stretched me until I thought I would break, but the pain was secondary to the sheer, primal rightness of it.

He began to pound into me, his pace frantic, the rhythm of a man who had forgotten everything but the feel of the flesh.

The bed groaned under the weight of his assault.

Every time his hips slammed into mine, it felt like my bones were about to shatter. All I could do was bury my head into a pillow and let him use me.

He was like a predator finally tasting blood. He growled, burying his face in the crook of my neck as he hammered into me, seeking a salvation that wasn't found in any book.

“Jade… fuck… Jade,” he groaned, his voice breaking as his hips lost their rhythm.

I moaned into the bed as he changed his angle and his thick cock started hitting my g spot head on. Sending razor-sharp pleasure around my already oversensitive body.

I felt him stiffen, his entire body turning into a cord of tension. He let out a low, guttural roar as he filled me, his heat pouring inside me in thick, rhythmic pulses.

I whimpered as I came with him, my walls clenching around him as the world dissolved into white noise and the scent of rain.

For a moment, there was silence, the sound of our labored breathing and the rain on the roof.

He collapses on top of me, his heavy, sweat-slicked body a comforting weight.

I closed my eyes, a sense of tired peace and deep satisfaction flowing through me. I had finally gotten what I had been lusting over for years.

And it was way better than anything I’d ever imagined.

Then my eyes snapped open when he suddenly pushed himself up on his elbows.

Before I could even blink, he slammed back into me, his cock still iron-hard and pulsing.

I let out a shocked, pained gasp. “Elias? Wait… I’m…”

He grabbed my hair and pulled it up again, looking at me through the mirror in front of us.

His second hand wrapped around my throat, his thumb pressing firmly into the sides.

“You think we’re done, little lamb?” he rasped, his eyes locked onto mine with a terrifying intensity. “You’ve had my prayers, my nights, my every waking thought.”

He thrust into me in a slow, deep slide that made my toes curl.

“I’m starving, baby,” he whispered, his teeth grazing my earlobe. “We are just getting started. I’m going to make you forget there was ever a God other than me.”