All Chapters of The Reverend And His Plaything : Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Thorne. I stood under the bright light of the big chandelier hanging above the altar, the sacrament cradled in my hands. The body of Christ. The blood of Christ. Holy things meant to be held by pure hands—hands that had washed the feet of the faithful like Jesus once did, hands that had offered blessings and absolution. Hands that had done far more than that.My only sin was Mia.She was my ruin, my judgment, my end—and if there was any justice left in this world, it would end with her.Right now, I watched her from the altar as she sat in the first row, legs crossed, hands folded in her lap like the perfect parishioner. Every time I lifted the host, every time I spoke the words of consecration, my eyes found her. Her grandma sat beside her, oblivious, smiling proudly every time our gazes crossed. I smiled back at the older woman—warm, priestly, practiced—while my mind drowned in everything unholy.Mia wasn’t helping. Not at all. It felt like every move she made was a dare, e

Thorne.Everything twisted the second Mia’s face filled my screen. It wasn’t the usual filthy, hungry smile she wore when I praised her, when she knew exactly what those words did to me. This was different—raw, red-rimmed eyes, cheeks blotchy, nose running. My grip on the phone tightened until my knuckles ached. Holding it together was one thing; finding a way to get to her, to hold her, was something else entirely. My shirt suddenly felt too tight across my chest, like the air had been sucked out of the room.I’d called for one reason; I missed her. I couldn’t breathe right when her grandmother and mother were standing there at church today, forcing me to sound like a priest instead of the man who’d had her bent over the altar days ago. Now, finally alone, I could breathe freely again. Except the one person who gave me air was drowning herself.“What happened to you, Mia…?” I repeated, softer this time, leaning closer to the screen as if I could reach through it and wipe he

Thorne.God, what was I thinking?What was Your plan for me? When I made that decision to become a priest—to serve You in holiness, with all my heart—did You really believe everything I wanted, desired, hungered for would be rewarded in heaven some other way? That I could bury the fire and live on bread and prayer alone? Because I’m already giving in to lust. Drowning in it. And it’s not just lust anymore. I want Mia for the rest of my life.I’ve officiated weddings. Sat through marriage counseling. Helped couples untangle their fights before they ended in divorce. I’ve done everything right—almost everything. But would my crime be Mia? I keep asking myself: do I want that with her? A marriage? A life? Or would I settle for just fucking her until she marries someone else—some man I’d probably smile at and shake hands with, maybe even officiate the ceremony while my heart bled quietly in my chest?But that animal craving inside me won’t allow it. Won’t let me imagine her

Mia. “God… my filthy little lamb. You’re so perfect,” he praised, his words low and reverent, like a prayer twisted into something darker. “You’re beautiful. Everything about you, Mia,” he muttered, voice thick with hunger as his fingers hooked into the waistband of my panties. He pulled them down slowly, with deliberate gentleness—sliding the damp lace over my hips, down my thighs, until they reached my ankles. He lifted one foot, then the other, freeing them completely. Then he brought the soaked fabric to his mouth.He kissed the damp center first—soft, lingering—then opened his lips and sucked the middle part, drawing the soaked fabric between them like he was tasting wine. His eyes never left mine. The sight of him sucking my wetness off my own panties made my clit throb harder, a fresh gush of arousal leaking from me, as he savored every drop.“Fuck…” I moaned, watching him devour the evidence of my need, my pussy throbbing harder at the sight. The attention that should’ve

Thorne.I was inches away from reaching Mia in the hallway when a professor, Mr Michael, one of the older ones, stopped me with a hand on my arm.He wanted to know if I’d be available during Christmas for the midnight Mass here in school. I nodded quickly, assuring him I would be there. Maybe, I had said in my head.The campus chapel would be nearly empty over the holidays; most students would go home, and the main town church would draw the bigger crowds. I’d be busy, yes, but not overwhelmed.And truthfully, I wanted the extra time.I wanted every free hour to belong to Mia.As I answered him, I caught sight of her moving away from the girl she’d been talking to, heading toward the exit.I excused myself from Mr Michael mid-sentence and followed.Outside, the cold bit sharp.Luca was already there, standing close to her, his voice low and earnest.He was asking if he could take her to the hospital.“Hospital?” I asked, my brow lifting as I stepped up behind her.They both turne