All Chapters of Forgive Me: Marked By The Priest: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

251 Chapters

21: My Damnation.

"Forgive me, Father, for the shadows of my heart are filled with sinful thoughts of him—how do I find redemption?”BARON’S POVThey always say that God would never allow you to face temptation bigger than you. I was starting to doubt that.I knew I was beyond saving now.Every breath I drew reminded me of it. Every second of silence that stretched after his footsteps faded left me sinking further into the pit he had carved open for me. I had committed several atrocities in a single day… things that no fasting nor confession or penance could erase.I had watched a man die. The boy’s blood was on my hands, even though my palms were clean. His screams still clawed at my ears, refusing to fade away. And then, as though that wasn’t enough, I had given myself over to sin so vile it made my chest burn with shame. I had touched, kissed, tasted another man, Ezreal, and I wasn’t just guilty of it. I was still doing it. Again and again, like a dog returning to its vomit.There was nowhe

22: The Don of Sin.

“You condemn my passions, yet your eyes betray you—flickering with a hunger that grows harder to ignore.”Ezreal’s POVMorning light crept lazily through the curtains, slicing across the room in pale beams. I sat at my desk, the glow of the surveillance monitor flickering before me. One of the cameras showed the bathroom from last night.And there he was.Baron. The holy priest. The righteous man of God. On his knees on the cold tile floor, one hand gripping the sink, the other wrapped around his cock, stroking himself with frantic, desperate movements.I leaned forward, every detail consuming me. His face was twisted in shame, jaw clenched, eyes wet. He bit down on his lip as though he could bite back the groans spilling out of him. But he couldn’t. His body betrayed him, writhing and aching until he finally came with a strangled groan, spilling his seed across the porcelain like a filthy confession.A slow, triumphant smile spread across my lips.The priest. The man who onc

23: Pretty Play Toy For Their Boss.

“I cling to my vows, yet my heart races with every whispered promise of sin he offers, intoxicating and true." Baron’s POVEzreal threw me to the ground after ‘touching’ me—hard, rough, possessive—and left me there, breathless, burning, and begging for more.Not out loud.I couldn’t bring myself to say it.But my body screamed it, every nerve alive with need that shouldn’t exist.He left me like that, sprawled on the cold floor, his back turned as if what just happened meant nothing. As if I meant nothing.When the door closed, I lay there, staring at the ceiling, my chest rising and falling too fast. It was supposed to fade. The heat, the ache, the craving for him. But it didn’t. It only grew worse with every second of silence that followed.I waited. Till the day bled into night.Then another.And another.Two whole days, and Ezreal didn’t come.The first day, I told myself he was busy. The second, I told myself I didn’t care. But by the third sunrise, I was pacing the room like

24: My Sanity, His Playground.

“Forgive me, Father, for I find solace in the thought of exploring the darkness within you, a mirror to my own.”Ezreal’s POV Business before pleasure. That was the rule I wanted to build my empire on.But lately, I haven't been steadfast in that principle.Still, when Vincent told me that one of our clients had stopped paying his dues, I didn’t hesitate. Discipline had to come first. Mercy had a price, and no one could afford it in my city. Not even me.We left early, before dawn. The city was half asleep, veiled in fog and the smell of rain. Vincent drove in silence, which I appreciated. He knew better than to speak when my mood was black.The drive took an hour. Long enough for my mind to drift… back to the priest I’d left behind.Baron.The man had no idea what he’d done to me.Two days, and I could still feel the ghost of his breath against my skin. Still hear the small, broken sound he’d made when I touched him. I told myself leaving him was the right thing. But truthfu

25: Shackled In Desire.

"You're a mistake I'm desperate to make, Ezreal… Just what have I become?”BARON.The silence in the room was suffocating.Three days had passed since Ezreal vanished out of sight. Three long, torturous days where I was left alone with my thoughts and guilt. Every tick of the clock was a blade slicing through the quiet, every creak of the floorboards a reminder that I was still trapped here, under his shadow.I tried to fill the time by cleaning, reading scraps of old books, pacing the walls like a restless ghost... but it was all useless. His absence only made his presence stronger. It lingered in the air, in the scent of his clothes, in the way the room still remembered him. I hated it. I hated how much I thought of him. I hated that his voice haunted the edges of my mind, that my body remembered things I wanted to forget.When footsteps finally echoed down the hall, I froze. My pulse stuttered. I knew that walk.Ezreal entered.The shift in the air was instant. So dense and el

26: Touch Him And Die.

"Chained as I am, by the very bonds he forged, my essence constricted... a prisoner of his will. Tell me, then, how you dare to touch the hand that holds my fate?” EZRAEL’S POVMy hands were balled into fists, knuckles white with suppressed fury, as I marched toward my study. I didn't have to look back to know Vincent was following me. His presence was a given. As soon as I crossed the threshold, I stopped and turned around, the cold air of the room matching the glacial state of my mood. “Summon them,” I ordered, my ice cold voice a reflection of my anger. “All of them. Every single bodyguard under my roof.”Vincent nodded once, his expression impassive, and vanished as quickly as a shadow in the night. The efficiency of my people was usually a point of pride. Today, it was just a mechanism to feed the fire I needed to extinguish.It took less than five minutes for them to gather. My bodyguards stood in neat, formidable rows in the main hall. There must have been close to sixty

27: THE PROMISE OF SIN.

"I have been twisted into a puppet by the chains of yesterday, a mere pawn in a sinister game of my own design. Now, I stand powerless, consumed by a desperate hunger for the alluring promise of sin he offers.”Baron’s POVI laid there, half-naked, my body now aching with want and frustration. My lips were wet, still tasting him. I could still hear the door click shut, but I didn’t turn to look.Ezreal.The way he'd stormed off still played in my head like a broken tape.All because I stopped.I didn't even mean to—well, maybe I did. Maybe it was just instinct, that sick, twisted urge to tease him just like he always did to me. Except this time, it was different. He didn't laugh, didn’t smirk. He just looked... Pissed.Fuck.I sat up slowly, my heart pounding in a mixture of shame and stubborn pride. What right did he have to look at me like that? Like I’d gone too far? Like I was the villain? He’d made me beg for release more times than I could count, had whispered filth into my

28: A MIRACLE OF HIS MAKING.

“When I condemned him to prison, I did not foresee the abyss I tied to our souls, an iron fate that clamps us in perpetual night… Forgive Me.”BARON’S POVI woke up to the steady beeping of a heart monitor.White light pressed against my eyelids, sharp and sterile. For a moment, I thought I was dead, maybe in some halfway place between heaven and whatever waited for people like me. But then the pain came. My arms burned. My chest throbbed... I could feel the thin sheets sticking to my skin where small cuts had started to close.I blinked hard, and the room focused into view. A hospital. Cold tiles. IV line. Bandages on my hands.My breath hitched.“What—” My voice cracked, barely a whisper. “What happened?” I asked no one in particular.The last thing I remembered was Ezreal. His hard dick in my mouth. The warmth of his hand on my jaw. The taste of his cum... then nothing. Everything after that was blank.And now this.Was the blood mine or was it someone else's? Judging by the

29: The Devil In The Shadows.

"In the heart of the church, I found the spark to ignite my hell.”EZREAL’S POV I parked a few meters from the church, the engine of my car turned off, the lights dimmed. The night cloaked me well enough so that from where I sat, I could see the tall iron gates of the church, the faint glow of candles flickering inside, and the familiar shadow of a man moving past the stained-glass window.Baron.He was back where he belonged... or at least where the world believed he belonged. The church. His precious sanctuary.I leaned back in my seat, watching him like a wolf studying its prey after the hunt. He looked pale even from here, slower, weaker. But he was breathing. That was enough.A small smirk tugged at my lips.They thought they’d found him by chance. A passing driver, a miracle. I almost laughed. They had no idea.Let them believe what they want. The clergy, the bishop, that self-righteous Mother Franca…they could all pray for his soul. It didn’t change the truth. He was m

30: The Call.

“Even in his absence I continue to crave his Hell.” BARON’S POVThe morning light bled softly through the curtains, painting the church walls in gold and white. Dust floated through the air like faint whispers, settling over the cracked wooden floor. The church was quiet—too quiet—as if the walls themselves were holding their breath.I sat across from my father, his old wooden desk between us.He looked tired—more so than I’d ever seen him. His gray hair seemed paler, his hands trembling slightly as he poured himself a cup of coffee. I could hear the faint clink of the spoon as he stirred, slow and mechanical.“So,” he said finally, his eyes not meeting mine, “tell me what happened that day.”I hesitated, staring down at my hands. There were still faint marks on my wrists, almost invisible now, but I could feel them—the echo of his touch.“I don’t remember much,” I lied softly. “I was taken, locked somewhere. I didn’t see who it was.”The words tasted bitter as they left my mouth.

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