Semua Bab Unholy Cravings (Collection of Erotica Short Stories): Bab 11 - Bab 16

He's the priest she shouldn't tempt. But confession was never supposed to feel this good.— Taboo / Forbidden / Religious kinkNoamiThe church was quiet. The kind of quiet that presses against your ears and makes every little sound seem loud. I stood just outside the heavy wooden doors, staring up at the tall stained-glass windows glowing faintly in the moonlight. The night was cool, but inside my chest, I felt this strange heat rising.My hands were shaking a little as I pushed open the door. The old hinges groaned softly, like the church was waking up. Inside, it smelled like incense and cold stone. Empty pews stretched out in front of me.I walked slowly down the aisle, my footsteps soft on the worn floor. My thoughts were all tangled — things I didn't want to think about. I didn't even know why I came here tonight. Maybe to confess. Or maybe I just needed the silence to swallow everything I couldn't say out loud.At the back of the church, the confession booths sat like dark litt

NaomiThe mirror showed a flushed reflection—my lips parted, pupils blown wide. I shouldn't have been in the restroom this long. I shouldn't have been touching myself with his name on my tongue.But sinning with a priest? It had never felt so divine.My phone buzzed on the counter. Father Elias.I didn't hesitate. "Hello?" I whispered, voice already trembling."You called," his voice rumbled. "What is it you need, little lamb?"I swallowed a moan. "I need your help... again."There was silence on the other end. Not long—just enough to make my thighs press together, chasing friction I shouldn't have been chasing at work."Are you alone?" he finally asked.I nodded before realizing he couldn't see me. "Yes. Locked the door. No one's coming in.""Good girl." His praise landed between my legs like heat. "Now tell me, where are your hands?""On the sink," I whispered, breathless. "But they won't stay there long.""I don't want them to," he said darkly. "You called me for something, didn't

NaomiI couldn't breathe.His touch. His voice. The way he said my name like a warning—like a prayer laced with hunger.And God help me... the way I wanted more of it.I stepped out into the cool evening air, my coat pulled tight around me, my heart thundering beneath it.He said I should go. He always says that.But his hands tell a different story. His eyes too—wild with want, even when he tries to bury it beneath holy robes and that calm, careful voice.And now... he's invited me to his house. Not the booth.Not behind locked church doors. His house.I know I should feel guilt. Shame. Something.But all I feel is this deep, aching anticipation—coiled in my belly like fire waiting to be fed.I've never wanted anything more. The worst part? I know he wants it too. No matter how tightly he clutches that rosary. No matter how often he says this is the last time.He'll always let me back in. And I'll keep sinning if it means I get to taste that look in his eyes again.I reached into my p