Prayer From Pulp Fiction Novels & Stories

"Ruth—" "Tell me you don't want this, Father." My voice dropped to a whisper. "Tell me you haven't thought about it. Tell me you haven't imagined pulling me into this booth and fucking me senseless. Tell me you haven't pictured me on my knees in front of you, taking communion from your hands in a way that has nothing to do with the body of Christ." He closed his eyes, his lips moving and shaping the words of a prayer that won't save him. His hands were shaking not, and his knuckles were white where they gripped each other.

“When you’re inside me… it’s like prayer.” The words twisted something deep in his chest. Guilt and lust mixed together. He lined up and slammed into her in one brutal thrust. Sophia cried out, gripping the edge of the table. “Yes, Father! Fuck me!” Elias didn’t hold back. He pounded her hard, hips slapping against her ass, the wet sound of her cunt taking every thick inch filling the small room. He reached around and rubbed her clit fast while he fucked her. “Deus, propitius esto mihi peccatori,” he growled in Latin, reciting the old prayer while he railed her. “God, be merciful to me, a sinner.”