Chapter 3 Confess Me, Father Ch3

• She left him on his knees.
• Again.
• Not in prayer. Not in penance. But in silence, with his seed still warm on her tongue and that same wicked gleam in her eyes as she pulled her ruined panties from the floor and tucked them into her purse like a keepsake.
• He'd gripped the altar so hard his knuckles turned white. And still, he hadn’t asked her name.
• Because deep down, he knew it didn’t matter. She was temptation incarnate, and he was already damned.
• She waited until nightfall.
• It had become her ritual. Confess. Corrupt. Escape.
• But tonight, she didn’t want to run. She wanted to linger. To be caught.
• She crept back into the chapel barefoot. Her heels hung from one hand. The doors were unlocked. She knew he’d be here. He always was.
• The candles were half-melted. The air heavy with incense.
• She found him behind the altar, reading scripture by dim lamp.
• His eyes flicked up.
• "Of course," he muttered. "It’s you."
• She dropped the heels with a soft thud. "You didn’t even pretend to sound surprised."
• "Why are you here?"
• She stepped closer. The hem of her dress swished around her thighs. No bra. No panties. She let him see the outline of her breasts as she reached for the lamp and turned it off.
• "Because the last two times weren’t enough."
• He stood slowly, the tension in his body coiled like a spring. "You think this is a game?"
• She stepped into his space. "No. I think it’s a need. One we both keep feeding."
• His jaw tightened. "You want more? You think you can handle more?"
• She tilted her chin up. Daring him. Daring Father.
• "Prove it."
• The slap wasn’t hard. It wasn’t meant to hurt. But the sound of his palm against her cheek made her gasp.
• His hand gripped her throat next, backing her against the altar.
• "You walk in here dripping and sinful and expect me not to ruin you?"
• "I don’t want to be saved," she whispered. "I want to be fucked."
• That was all it took.
• He ripped her dress.
• No more hesitations. No more holy warnings. Just raw, brutal want.
• He bent her over the altar, hands spreading her thighs until she had nowhere to hide.
• "Look at you," he growled. "So eager. So filthy."
• He slid two fingers through her folds, groaning as he felt how soaked she was.
• "You come in here without panties again and I swear to God, I’ll make you beg until your voice is gone."
• She moaned, hips pushing back against him. "Then make me."
• He shoved his fingers deep.
• She cried out, trembling.
• "Louder," he snarled.
• She screamed.
• He fingered her until she was a mess, legs shaking, hands clawing at the polished altar.
• Then he pulled away.
• "No," she whimpered. "Please. I was close."
• He shoved her down until her cheek was flat against the wood. "You don’t get to come yet. Not until I’ve ruined this body you keep flaunting in front of me."
• She heard his zipper. Felt the heat of his cock against her thigh.
• "Beg."
• "Please, Father. Please fuck me. I need it. Need you inside me. I’ll do anything."
• He thrust deep. Hard. One punishing stroke that made her scream.
• He held her hips and used her, the slap of skin on skin echoing through the chapel.
• "You like being used by your priest, don’t you?"
• "Yes. God, yes. I want it. Want all of you."
• He reached around and pinched her nipple, twisting until she sobbed.
• "You’re mine now. My dirty little secret."
• "Yours," she choked.
• He fucked her harder, deeper. The edge was close. She could feel it. He reached between her legs and rubbed her clit, fast, rough.
• "Come for me. Now."
• She exploded, body convulsing, screaming his name.
• He wasn’t far behind.
• He grunted, pulled out, and finished all over her lower back, thick spurts marking her skin.
• They stayed like that.
• Breathless. Sweating. Filthy in every way.
• When she looked back at him, he was already watching.
• And she knew.
• He was too far gone to stop now.