All Chapters of The Hockey’s Plaything(Erotic Short Stories): Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

The wind howled against the ancient stone walls, rattling the wooden shutters of the Sanctum of Solara. The convent sat alone on a jagged cliffside, the only light for miles the dim glow of oil lamps flickering in narrow windows.Inside, the air was cold and smelled faintly of incense and old wood. The sisters moved through the halls in silence, their steps soft against the worn flagstones. Among them was Elara, a young novice who had only been within these walls for six months. She was barely past twenty, with dark hair kept hidden beneath a pale linen veil and wide, curious eyes that she tried and often failed to keep lowered.The order demanded silence after dusk, a time for prayer and contemplation but tonight, there was a disturbance, a traveler, half-frozen and soaked by the storm, had appeared at their heavy oak doors, begging for refuge. It was unusual for outsiders to come here, rarer still for one to be admitted but the storm was violent enough to justify bending their ru

He climaxed in her fucking her till they were both spent before he pulled out, holding her as the both went to bed. At dawn, he vanished without a word, leaving behind nothing but tangled sheets and the memory of his rough touch. Elara had woken alone, the emptiness beside her as cold as the stone walls. Guilt gnawed at her like teeth. She couldn’t eat, couldn’t breathe without feeling the weight of what she had done. She had broken the order’s most sacred rule, her body was no longer pure. There was only one thing left to do. She needed absolution. Her bare feet made no sound as she descended the steps to the Sanctum of Cleansing, a shadowed chamber deep beneath the compound. Only the leader of their order, the Confessor could grant forgiveness. The heavy wooden door creaked as she pushed it open. A single brazier burned inside, casting light over stone walls etched with strange symbols. The room smelled of smoke and something darker, almost metallic. The Confessor sat on

The dream was so vivid Isabella almost believed it was real.Her body arched against silken sheets, heat curling through her veins as a strong pair of hands stroked her tender skin. The voice in her ear was deep, rough with desire.“Isabella…”Her breath caught. She clung to the dream, reaching for him, whispering his name.“Alexander… oh, please don’t stop…”His lips grazed her throat. His weight pressed her deeper into the mattress. She gasped, teetering on the edge of bliss when she woke up.The early morning light poured into the bedroom, slicing through the illusion like a blade. The bed was empty, cold on the other side. The echo of her dream faded, leaving only a hollow ache in her chest.Isabella sat up slowly, her breath ragged, the silk sheets falling away to reveal her bare boobs. For a moment she stared at the empty space beside her, as though willing her husband to appear. But Alexander was miles away, he always was.At first, she had endured it with patience, telling her

The next morning, when she woke up, Dominic was nowhere to be found.Good, she thought, relieved. Every night and day he had taken her raw, fucking her brain senseless maybe she could rest her pussy today.That meant she had the house to herself, so she took her time getting ready and didn’t have breakfast until ten as she sat at the dining table, the butler approached, his hands folded neatly in front of him.“There will be no training this morning,” he said smoothly. “The master is out on a business trip.”Her fork paused midair. “Will he be coming back today?” she asked, trying to keep her voice neutral.“Yes, he should return later in the day,” the butler replied, his expression unreadable. “He asked me to tell you to rest well before his return.”Before his return… Her pulse quickened at the words. Heat pooled low in her stomach despite her best effort to push away the image of what he might do to her.“Okay,” she murmured, forcing herself to focus on her food. After finishing, s

He looked at me like I was a risk he shouldn’t take, but already had. Like he’d do it again without a second thought.“I should fire you,” he growled.“Then do it,” I snapped.But he didn’t.His hands hovered near my waist, like they didn’t need to land to burn. His eyes were all over me, devouring me, undressing me without lifting a single button. I could feel it in every breath he took. Every slow rake of his gaze across my lips, my chest, my thighs. He wasn’t in a rush. He was giving me time.Time to push him away.But I didn’t.God, I should’ve.I should’ve slapped him. Shoved him back. Called him every name that burned on my tongue.Instead, I stood there, aching.I wanted to hate him and still mourn his name like a prayer. I wanted to curse him and still scream it when I came. I wanted to destroy him and still beg him to ruin me again.What the hell was wrong with me?Why did he make me feel this way?Why did one look, one step, one low voice turn me into someone I didn’t recogn