All Chapters of The Reverend And His Plaything : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

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, Rev

Mia's POV. “Gosh… this whole place is damn dusty. What the hell,” I muttered under my breath, wiping the shelves behind the altar.I guess no one ever bothers with this area.The whole church was quiet. I was humming softly as I cleaned, lost in my own world—until I heard footsteps.Soft, slow… but getting closer.I froze. Who the hell was that?Trying to step down from the tall chair I had used to reach the upper shelf, the damn thing suddenly wobbled under me. “Oh shit...!”I didn’t hit the ground.I fell into someone.Into a pair of strong arms.A firm, wide chest.His scent was crisp and clean and expensive. His shirt was soft against my skin, and for a second, I forgot I was supposed to move away.Then I looked up.It was The Reverend Father.His hands had caught me so carefully—so close to my breasts, but not quite touching. His eyes were dark, gentle… and way too attractive for a man of God.“Hey,” he said, voice low and calm.I froze again. God, even his voice was soft like v

Thorne. I closed the door behind me and took a breath. The room was small, quiet. The walls felt like they carried secrets. I changed quickly—slipping into my cassock, my collar. The uniform never felt heavy until moments like this. When I had to become something more than just a man. When I had to be the wall people leaned their guilt against. She didn’t say a word when I stepped into the confession booth. I could see her face from the cracks, of course— from where I sat behind the screen and I could feel her presence. Like heat. She was sitting there, barely breathing. I adjusted my posture, cleared my throat slightly. “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit,” I began, quietly. “You may begin when you’re ready.” The silence stretched. Then I heard her exhale slowly, like she was letting go of something she'd been holding for years. “I haven’t done this before,” she said. Her voice was steady, but low. Strained. Like it cost

Thorne.She nodded once, desperate. “yes... yess... Please… ” I leaned close to her ear. “You want more?” Her voice was so soft I barely heard it. “Yes, yes... Father. I want more. I want you as my penance.. Fuck me harder.. teach me some dirty lessons..." That did it. I lost whatever grip I had on control. I shoved her dress up. No panties. Her innocence was so damn bare. Her body tense, trying to brace for what was coming. I dragged my palm up her spine, feeling the goosebumps rise. “Say it again.” She moaned—breathless, broken. “I want more. I want all of it. Take it. Take my virginity…” I let out a sharp breath. My belt clanked to the floor. I was already hard, already leaking. “You don’t even know what you’re asking for,” I muttered, pushing myself against her. Her breath caught. Her fingers gripped the edge of the bench like it was the only thing keeping her upright. “You said yes,” I said. “No going back now.” She nodded, gasping when I pushed my cock in

Mia. "Come around..." he said. My heart thudded so hard I thought it echoed in the wooden walls. I blinked. "But Sister Annalisa-" I turned slightly, peeking through the booth's side slat. She was still kneeling in front of the altar, fingers tightly wrapped around her rosary, whispering prayers with her eyes clenched shut. Deep in devotion. Not even breathing in our direction. My legs moved before my brain could catch up. I stood. Fast. My knees weak, but I walked to the side door and pushed it open. The moment I stepped inside his side of the booth, the air changed. Heavy. Sinful. Thicker than incense. And then our eyes met. God. He was already hard. So hard it was pushing against the front of his priestly robe, thick and swollen, angry like it needed release. I didn't wait. Didn't ask. Didn't blink. I dropped to my knees again-but this time, not for prayer. My fingers gripped the hem of his kaftan and pulled it up, slowly, shaking but steady. He d