Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 51 - Chapitre 60

ClémenceThe night seemed endless. I closed my eyes dozens of times, but each time sleep threatened to come, his face appeared behind my eyelids. I saw his lips, his gaze that pierces the silence, his hands that seemed made to bless and condemn simultaneously. With every beat of my heart, I felt it beat for him.By morning, my eyelids are heavy, but my mind is on alert, obsessed. I feel like I've crossed an arid desert, a desert burned by the fire of desire. My thoughts are dry, my body empty, and my chest so heavy I struggle to breathe. I know I will give in: I will go back to the church. Not because my faith demands reparation, but because my desire demands its poison.I should be elsewhere. I'm a teacher in a small neighborhood school, and I'm supposed to give a reading lesson to my seven-year-old students this morning. Their boundless energy, their eyes bright with curiosity, their voices rising all at once… normally, all this anchors me in a reassuring reality. But today, even th

 CLÉMENCEAll day, I thought of nothing else. Of him. Of that silence in the confessional where every word, every breath from him becomes a shiver on my skin. And of that phrase: "Not only for yourself… but for me too."Those words haunt me. I've turned them over in my mind a thousand times. For me too. What does that mean? Does he even realize what he let me glimpse?I can no longer breathe without feeling him near me, even in his absence. So tonight, I've decided. I want to know if this turmoil is real, if it exists in him as it does in me. I want to see him crack, just once.I open my wardrobe and choose my lightest dress. Not indecent , I don't want him to accuse me of immodesty , but the fabric hugs my curves, and the neckline hints at my chest without revealing it. I run my fingers over the fabric, hesitate for a second, then put it on. A discreet scent on my neck, a touch of color on my lips, almost nothing. Just enough so

 GABRIELThe Sunday bell rings, clear, relentless.I hear each strike as a reminder, a warning.My hands tremble as I put on the chasuble. I hide them in the folds of the fabric, as if I could mask the shiver gnawing at me.The sacristy is silent, only traversed by the familiar smell of wax and incense. I take refuge there for a few more seconds, hoping this brief respite will suffice to stifle the turmoil within me.But nothing works. The echo of her lips still burns against mine.I close my eyes. Breathe deeply.— Lord, give me strength, I murmur. Extinguish this fire.But when I open my eyes again, I already know He will not answer.---The church is packed. The faithful crowd the pews, children whisper, faces turn towards me with expectation.And among them… her.Clémence is there, in the third row.She is not praying. She is watching me.Not with insolence. Not

 CLÉMENCEHe is inside me.Finally.And he fucks me as if it were the only way to erase me.His first thrust is a thunderclap, tearing me open in one go, deep, merciless. A hoarse cry is torn from my throat, uncontrollable. My thighs clench around his hips, drawing him in even harder. He growls, animal, his fingers digging into my flesh.— Fuck… Clémence…His voice trembles, low, strangled. No tenderness, nothing but a burning rage and a desire he tries to smother under brutality. His hips slap against mine with a violent, sharp, steady rhythm that makes me lose all control.Each time he thrusts, I feel myself splitting, opening wider. Pain mingles with pleasure, inseparable, and I surrender to it.I arch beneath him, grab his rain-soaked hair, pull it back roughly.— Harder, Gabriel… more…He crushes me under his weight, his hands pinning me to the ma

 CLÉMENCEI walk in the rain, arms tight around my chest, unable to contain the smile devouring me. The night clings to my skin, drops stream through my tangled hair, but I don't care. Everything still burns inside me. Every step echoes like a victory.He took me. Finally.I still feel his weight, his heat, his violence. The marks of his hands on my hips, the bite of his fingers on my wrist, his deep thrusts that broke and revealed me at the same time. Nothing can erase that. Not even his hatred.I reach my door, drenched, breathless. I slide the key in, enter my dark apartment. Silence welcomes me, soft, reassuring. I let my clothes fall to the floor, one by one, without a thought. My bare feet stick to the parquet.The bathroom draws me like a refuge. I turn on the tap, scalding water gushes out. I slip under the shower, close my eyes. The water flows over my skin, washing away sweat, salt, the smell of his body. But nothing e