One Out Of Many..

Warning...This chapter contains explicit content, graphic sexual scenes, and dark psychological themes. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

– Thorne's POV.

“Fuck... fuck… fuck me harder, Reverend... please...”

Her voice cracked as she cried out again, clawing at the wooden table like she was about to tear it apart. Her ass was up, back arched, her whole body trembling under me as I drove into her without mercy. My cock was buried so deep inside her pussy I could feel her walls choking me, clenching like her body couldn’t decide whether to push me out or beg me deeper.

I grunted, teeth gritted, sweat dripping from my jaw as I pinned her down harder. “You want to cum that bad, huh?” I growled against her ear. “You crying now? You think that’ll make me let you?”

She sobbed loud, desperate, wild. It wasn’t tears of pain. No, it was the kind of cry that came from the gut. A woman who couldn’t hold in the mess I made of her anymore.

“I want to fucking cum,” she begged. “I....please, Reverend, I c-can’t hold it…”

She sounded like she was dying. Shaking like she’d break into pieces if I pulled out. But I didn’t. I slammed into her harder instead, her tight little hole swallowing me all over again like it was made for me.

“Don’t you fucking cum,” I growled in her ear, dragging her head back by her hair. I wanted her to look at me—see what the fuck she turned me into. “You cum without my permission and I’ll leave you here dripping and aching till Sunday.”

Her eyes found mine wet, blurred, barely open but she nodded like a good girl. Her mouth opened just enough to whimper, and that’s when I spat right in her face.

“Dirty fucking girl,” I muttered, watching the spit drip down her cheek. “You come to God’s house with your tight little dress, thinking I won’t notice? You think I didn’t know what you were doing all along, Kameeli?”

She didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

Her moans came louder now, faster. Her hands were trembling on the table, her pussy clenching on my cock like it was fighting its own will. And God, she felt so fucking sweet. I couldn’t stop myself I buried my face in her neck, still thrusting rough, fast, filthy.

“You’re all the same,” I muttered between thrusts. “Every last one of you. Pretend innocence. But your cunt gives you away. Every single time.”

I yanked out of her with a wet, aching sound, and grabbed her by the wrist. “Get up!”

She obeyed fast..so fucking fast it pissed me off and turned me on at the same time. That desperate look in her eyes, the way she followed without question. She belonged to me now. She fucking knew it.

I dragged her to the leather chair near the window, the same chair I sat in every time I prepared for Sunday’s sermon.

“Hands on the chair,” I ordered, voice low and cold.

“Yes, please, Reverend…” she whispered, her voice cracking at the end.

Her fingers gripped the top of the chair like it was all she had left. I took a step back, eyes devouring her naked frame. Her skin was red where I’d held her down. Her thighs were still glistening.

I lifted one of her legs and placed her foot up on the cushion. The other leg I kicked wider, spreading her open until I could see every bit of her slick, needy pussy.

“Keep them open,” I snapped.

She nodded fast, hands trembling, body shaking. She was still trying to hold her orgasm. Good fucking girl.

I knelt in front of her, eyes locked on that soaked pussy. “Look at this,” I muttered, dragging two fingers between her folds. “Dripping like a fucking whore.”

Her head dropped back with a loud whimper, her body jerking at the touch.

“You wanna cum so bad you can’t breathe, huh?” I asked, slowly circling her clit. “Say it.”

“Yes,” she cried. “Please... I’ll do anything, Reverend.”

That did something to me. The way she said it. The way she looked like she meant it. Like I was the only man left in her world.

I stood back up and shoved my cock back inside her, one brutal thrust.

She screamed. Loud. Real. Her head dropped, her hands slipping on the chair.

I grabbed her throat. “Don’t fall.”

She whimpered something I couldn’t hear. I didn’t care. I just kept moving. Hard, deep, ruthless strokes. My grip on her neck tightened—not enough to stop her breath, just enough to remind her who the fuck she was giving herself to.

I was close. Too close.

“Say my name,” I hissed into her mouth, panting. “Say it while I ruin you.”

“Thorne…” she sobbed. “Please…”

"FUCK Me HARDER. HARDER! HARDER PLEASE... fuck you're so fucking thick! You're fucking splitting me apart... goshhh!"

I didn’t say anything. Just watched her fall apart in front of me, still shaking, still trying not to cum.

She was beautiful. Broken, twisted, drowning in guilt, but beautiful. They all were. That’s why I picked them.

But Kameeli?

She’s fucking married. A whole damn husband somewhere out there, probably thinking his sweet little wife’s at choir practice. What a joke. Most of them were married. Dirty, lying, unfaithful holes. Spreading their legs for salvation and moaning like they’re being baptized.

“Fuck… shit… goddamn it,” I growled, holding her waist tight, grinding deeper into her soaked pussy. I wasn’t letting this go. Not yet. Not until I emptied every ounce of myself inside her.

“Reverend… fuck… you’re fucking huge… shit, I could fucking feel you in my stomach... ” she cried, voice hoarse and raw, her face buried into the chair cushion.

That’s when I shoved a finger deep into her ass—slow at first, then rougher. My cock was still thrusting into her drenched pussy, but now her whole body jerked with every movement.

She screamed. Loud. Real.

Her ass was placed high... as my cock slammed into her harder. My finger curled deep in her tight back hole. The chair legs scraped against the floor from the force.

I didn’t stop. Not even when she started shaking.

I grabbed her by the arms, yanked her up, and kicked the chair aside like it offended me. “On the floor. Now. Spread those fucking legs.”

She dropped fast—like she was made to obey. Her knees hit the cold tiles, then her back. She opened those thighs wide, her pussy glistening and twitching. My cock was still dripping, hard, angry.

I stood over her for a second, staring down. My chest heaved.

Then I dropped to my knees between her legs and leaned over her mouth.

Her eyes widened the second she saw my cock—veins thick, precum already leaking from the tip. Her lips parted like instinct.

“You want this?” I asked low, dark, breathless.

“Yes… yes… yes, please…” she cracked out, her voice already broken.

I didn’t wait.

I grabbed her chin, tilted her head back, and rubbed the head of my cock all over her flushed face—across her cheeks, her lips, her nose. She was soaked in it. My scent. Her sin. My precum. I wanted her to taste it. Smell it. Remember who ruined her.

Then I pushed into her mouth—slow at first, letting her gag on the stretch, her lips parting around me.

She gagged. Coughed. Choked.

But she didn’t stop.

I held her head tight and started thrusting back and forth, in and out. Her hands clawed at my thighs, her cries muffled around my cock. Her eyes teared up, mascara smeared, spit pooling at the corners of her lips.

“Take it,” I hissed, fucking her mouth with ruthless strokes. “Don’t you dare pull away.”

She squirmed under me, gasping through her nose, eyes locked on mine like she knew she was owned.

And then I came.

Hot. Thick. Full.

I didn’t pull out. I held her there, my cock pulsing inside her throat, emptying everything I had down her throat.

She swallowed all of it.

When I finally let go, she gasped for air, chest heaving, tears running down her face..but her mouth stayed open, waiting for more.

I looked at her.

This wasn’t just lust.

And I fucking wasn't done. Immediately I stood up and went back to the chair. Sat down, my legs stretched widely.. my cock still hard but I had to stop.

“Come on. Get up,” I commanded.

“Oh why, Father? I thought we’d be staying a little longer…” she pouted.

“Not today, Kameeli. I have night mass. There's no way I’ll be fucking you till then. Now get dressed.”

She stood immediately, slipping back into her clothes without saying a word. Then she walked over to me—slow, deliberate. She leaned down, her face just inches from mine.

“Will I be getting more of your cock later…?” she whispered, teasing.

“We’ll see about that,” I said coldly..

She smirked and walked out, hips swaying like she knew exactly what she’d left me thinking about.