Naughty Empires
"Please... meet me here, just us. I need you. Alone. I'll beg, cry, whatever you want. Just... touch me. Let me touch you."
I felt a rush of power surge through me, my clit swelling at the sight of him groveling. The alcove felt smaller, the air heavier, charged with his desperation. "Alone?" I echoed, stepping closer, the gravel shifting under my feet. My habit brushed his bowed head, and I could smell him—sweat, incense, and that raw, musky need. "Why alone, Father? Afraid Beatrice and Clara might make you cry too hard?" I reached down, tilting his chin up with my fingers, feeling the stubble rough against my skin. His eyes were pleading pools, tears clinging to his lashes like dew.