Priest Of Corruption Chapter 1 Novels & Stories

“Then why do your knees press to the ground like a supplicant’s... and not a priest’s?” Jacquiem’s breath caught. The High Priest took a step forward, fingers tightening around his staff. “His corruption is deep. You will undergo another cleansing, Jacquiem. The taint must be,” “There is no taint.” The words came before Jacquiem could stop them. Silence. The High Priest’s gaze narrowed. “What did you say?” Jacquiem slowly rose, his eyes never leaving the figure shackled within divine fire. “There is no taint,” he repeated. “Not from him. Not from me. What you’re trying to burn away isn’t corruption. It’s-”

Twisted. Shifted color. White turned gold. Gold deepened to crimson. And the relic shattered in the priest’s hands. Not explosively. Disintegrating into ash. Silence crushed the courtyard. The clergy staggered back in horror. One fell to his knees. “You’ve corrupted it,” he whispered. Lily stared at her unburned palm. “No,” she said softly. “I completed it.” The words were instinctive. Not rehearsed. And the air trembled in agreement.

Guilt gnawed at him as he replayed the moment in his mind, grappling with the realization of his vulnerability in the face of temptation. As he reached the sanctuary of the church, Henry sank to his knees before the altar, seeking solace in prayer. But even in the sacred stillness of the holy place, he found no refuge from the turmoil raging within him. His heart weighed heavy with remorse and confusion, torn between his duty as a priest and the forbidden desires that now threatened to consume him.

"She is mine! The debt of the Valerius blood is paid in the Tenth! She belongs to the Mirror now!" The Priest didn't stop. He was a tall, gaunt man with eyes like polished flint and a scar that ran from his temple to his jaw. He didn't look at me with pity. He didn't see a woman in love or a victim of a curse. He looked at me like a house that was already on fire—something to be demolished before the flames could spread to the rest of the village. "There is no debt left, Julian Valerius," the Priest said, his voice echoing with a supernatural power that made the very stones of the catacombs vibrate. "There is only rot. And I have come to prune the branch before the whole tree withers."

No matter how angry I am with him now, I can never deny this attraction and desire I feel at just the very sight of him. How I wish he hadn't chosen this field, this deadly occupation. He is still a few steps away from me, yet I feel cornered. "I don't want this. You have no right to me!" His hands hold mine firmly over my head, soft lips grazing my cheek, making me breathless, and it leaves me bothered. He is dangerous. Corrupted. I don't feel safe around him, but I weirdly feel at home. Lord, what's wrong with me?

she swallowed, only realizing how hard it was to say the old priest's name, "He mentioned something to me from before. A powerful priest who had married most of the couples back home was excommunicated a couple of years ago. A corruption case. He was stripped of his powers and sent here. Only we heard rumors that he managed to hold on to his powers, after all. If that’s true, finding him might be worth a try. We can ask him to officiate the wedding." *** Gandhandi. Rose couldn't understand it. On the ground, it looked like a huge market, with stores squeezed together so tight, making the place look more crowded than it actually was. But once you look up, huge screens keep popping out of the

So Proserpina moves on to the next row, then the next one, and the next one, on and on until she was literally kneeling like a child on the floor when she finally comes across a book third to the last on the bottom row in between a skinny book and leather bound one; the book was silver-gray, small and light in her hands and the cover seemed to have some sort of glossy material in it as it twinkled when she turned it here and there… ‘Kind of a child’s storybook,’ she noted. The book was almost as big as her palm and seemed to have pages as what one would expect from a novelette. She carefully opens it up to the first page–not wanting to have a repeat of another destroyed book because a destro

For one eternal second, the scene was frozen: the respected priest balls-deep in his stepdaughter on the altar, her holes ruined and leaking, their sin exposed in the most blasphemous way possible. Then chaos erupted—screams, shouts, people standing. My mother collapsed to her knees. But Father Elias, in one final act of depraved defiance, thrust once more and unloaded the last of his cum deep inside me as the world watched. We were damned. Exposed. Ruined. And in that moment of complete, soul-consuming shame and ecstasy, I had never felt more alive—or more addicted.

A simple wooden cross hung above the narrow bed, watching us. He dropped me onto the mattress, and for a moment he just stood there, staring down at me with those stormy gray eyes. His cassock was disheveled, his thick cock still half-hard and glistening from my mouth, hanging heavy between his legs. Guilt twisted his handsome face, but the hunger won. “This is wrong, Gabi,” he rasped, voice low and tormented. “I’m a priest. I took vows before God.” I propped myself up on my elbows, letting my crimson dress ride up my thighs, exposing the black lace panties soaked through with my arousal. My nipples strained against the thin fabric, hard and aching.

It's just my body, I shouldn't be swayed away again. I watched him leave, staring at him with full hate. Does he not care if I hate him for the rest of his life? I thought Mafia leaders are still humans and could have a heart. I guess I was wrong about this guy. He is nothing like he looks. He has no heart, no shame and no morals. He thinks the world revolves around him. I am very sure, karma will deal with him one day. "Good day miss. I am butler James. Miss, please come with me." The butler said leading me up the stairs.