Priest Spicy Chapters Novels & Stories

His voice brushed my ear like a caress, and I had to fight the urge to recoil. I looked him dead in the eye. And felt nothing. No love. No pain. Only rage. The priest began to speak, his voice deep and ceremonial. "We are gathered here today under the light of the Goddess to witness the sacred union of—" He was saying, but I barely heard him. I was thinking of the night they strapped me to that chair. Of the taste of poison on my tongue. more so, I was thinking about the right time to act. Darren took both my hands, beaming like the perfect groom. He squeezed gently.

“Come on, baby. Trust me.” Naomi hesitated. Every sermon her mother had ever preached rang in her ears—warnings about “godless places,” about losing herself, about how girls who wandered off the righteous path always paid dearly for it. And yet, the sight of Nick’s hand stretched out for hers made her chest ache. She took it.

We’ve read so many forbidden stories… we’ve come a long way with No Saints! The tension, the sins, the things that shouldn’t happen, but always do. But this chapter is different. This one isn’t forbidden. There’s no hiding, no guilt. Just a husband and his wife. A mate and her Alpha. This scene is taken from my book A luna’s Revenge, and it can be read on its own. To read Alexander and Abigail’s full story, search A luna’s Revenge by Ebi Happy on GoodNovel.

" After informing him about the vision and leaving out the suicide aspect, I yelled the words out loud to this Priest. Fortunately, I had paid him a visit before his next service began. “What?” I told him I was astonished by his pleased expression. "I'm sorry, but the verse you just yelled is one of my favorite Bible scriptures, Matthew 11:28, as said by our Savior." With that wide grin on his face, the Priest answered to me. His response made me grumble a bit as I realized that my instinct had been correct in assuming those lines were from a Christian bible scripture. "However, why did he approach me and say that?" I then claimed I was going to question the Priest, but I believe I already k

(Sharian Roden POV) "Burn the store down !!!" I shouted at the Stygian members. "Have mercy Madam, don't! Please." The owner of the store I'm going to burn down. He hugged my legs. "I've been holding you back for a long time. You don't pay, right? We won't be blessed with anything right from you. We should burn down your shop than for us to go back and collect the little you gave!" I kicked him.

Perhaps the goddess was asleep tonight, because, just like other prayers I had made today, it didn't work. The priest opened his eyes and looked at him. He wore that eerie smirk on his face again. I gulped. He start towards me. “Stay away!!” I screamed, shaking madly on the bed. The priest’s little helpers weighed me down, chanting that terrible mantra on and on until it was driving me crazy. “Shut up! Shut up!” I yelled. They pressed me even harder, begging me, their deity to stay calm and accept the elixir that will take me to my ascension.

My priest is eating my pú'ssy in the church!! His tongue delved deep into my hole as his lips sucked on me. Father Daniels' fingers gripped at my ass cheeks and spread them apart as he made love to my cú'nt with his tongue. I was panting, and as I looked up I saw a giant wooden cross at the far end of the church. If it wasn't a priest eating me out, then I would feel guilty, but since it was... all I felt was pleasure.

Hearing the unlocking of the door, Sara -properly dressed this time- stood up from her chair and headed toward the door to take her breakfast. opening the door, she was met with Patrick's friendly face, the mid aged priest in the long hooded grey robe wasn't one of the twelve high priests that formed the holy council, but still had quite the reputability due to his amiable character and friendly behavior, even towards her. he didn't act as repulsive and disturbed by her presence like the other priests, but rather polite and patient all while keeping his distance.

But under all those eyes, I forced myself upright, gripping my crutches. The priest dipped his fingers into the bowl again, then pressed his wet hand to my forehead. The water was cold, sending a shiver through me. He began to chant, his voice low and rhythmic. The herbs crackled in the flame. Then—heat. A warmth spread through my chest, burning but not painful, like fire and ice all at once. My heart pounded erratically, and a gasp slipped out of me. The priest’s eyes snapped open, glowing faintly silver.

She couldn’t pull two coins together after that, so they dragged what was left to this sleepy nowhere, chasing whispers of cheap land and quieter days. Matthew’s broom slows, dust swirling around his bare feet, and his mind drifts…back to that first Sunday in Hapeville, months ago, when he’d laid eyes on Father Khatri in that crumbling church. Lord have mercy but, the man was something else, tall and broad with a deep voice like water over a smooth rock, preaching fire and brimstone while Matthew squirmed in the second pew. Those dark eyes had caught his more than once, and every time, Matthew’s breath stopped, his pants tightening painfully. He had to clench his fists, bite his lip raw, jus