Page 34 of Beneath His Robes

He opened his eyes then, and they were darker than I had ever seen them, filled with so much longing, so much desire, that it took my breath away.

“I’ve made promises, Ronan,” he whispered, his voice broken, a quiet tremor in it that made my chest tighten.

“I don’t care about your fucking promises. What about me? What about your promise to me? You told me you would never be like everyone else, that you’d never shut me out.” I said, my voice raw, as I pulled him closer, pressing him further into the snow-dusted tree. The cold didn’t touch me—not with him this close. “I said I fucking love you. Do you hear me? I love you, you stupid asshole.”

His lips parted, but he didn’t say anything. His mouth couldn’t. But his body did, the way he was responding to me, his thick cock pressing into my pelvis, his body so beautifully caged in my own. His hands were no longer tentative but jerked me forward, and they spoke more than the words he couldn’t say. I felt him, needed him, in a way that went beyond everything else—the vows, the years of separation.

I kissed him, hard and deep, demanding. The taste of him flooded my senses, and his hands moved faster, gripping at my clothes, at my skin, like he couldn’t get enough of me either. His lips were on mine, his body pressing me against the cold bark, and I felt the world around us disappear. Lost in this kiss. Neither of us could catch our breath, but where my breath ended, his began.

Elias didn’t break away from me for a second, and I didn’t either. We both knew that the minute we pulled away to catch our breath, this would end. And for once, he was submitting to me. I would rather fucking die than feel the loss of his touch.

I love you. Please don’t stop me.

This was what we had always been. Not a fleeting moment. Not a mistake. But the truth. The truth I had always known—he was mine, and I was his, and the world could burn around us for all I cared.

“Ronan,” he whispered again, but this time, there was no fear, no hesitation. Just the sound of his voice, raw and needy. “My own true hell would be letting you live another day, not knowing that I have always loved you. You are my greatest sin.”

It was all the permission I needed.

His name escaped my lips again. This time, it wasn’t a whisper. It was a demand—a promise.

I brought my mouth to his neck, kissing that soft flesh that was covered daily with his collar of chastity. I couldn’t push him. Even these stolen moments would have him broken and begging for atonement.

“Elias…” I moaned, running my tongue along the beads of his rosary.

He gasped, his fingers running through my hair, pulling me closer.

There was no gentleness now, only need. He was losing his careful control. It was as if we were both drowning, but we were drowning together, and there was no way out except into each other by using one another’s breaths as our only means of air.

I could feel his pulse under my fingertips as I slid my hands down his chest, past the soft fabric of his shirt, popping through the buttons on his pants and feeling the warmth of his skin beneath it.

His body was hard and lean, his muscles reacting to every touch I gave him. I was claiming him, reminding him of who we had once been and still were deep down. I knew the weight of what we were doing and what the consequences of letting go meant for him, but I was selfish. I didn’t care about anything but this moment.

I pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, to see the war raging there, the battle between the man who had been a priest and the man who had once loved me with all his heart. His lips were red and swollen, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths, but his eyes…those eyes were the most honest thing I had ever seen.

They were dark, the blue having been swallowed in a river of emotion, something raw, something desperate.

“You’re mine,” I whispered, my voice thick with longing.

I didn’t know if I was speaking the truth or simply hoping it was, but in that moment, it felt undeniable. The fire between us, the heat of it, was too much for either of us to ignore any longer.

I pressed my hand harder on his dick, but there was something hard blocking my way.

Elias’s breath hitched, and he closed his eyes for a moment, but his face spoke of…pain.

He was in pain?

Was he trying to shut me out?

His hands were still on me, still pulling me closer, the hunger in his touch speaking louder than his restraint and the pain etched in his face.

“What’s this? Have you…caged yourself? This is a fucking chastity cage.”

The formation under my fingertips definitely felt like some kind of chastity covering. His dick had been prominent before, but even with his panting breaths and whimpered responses, he wasn’t hard for me.

There was no bulge. Now I knew why.

“I’m not yours, Ronan,” he said, his voice shaky, but there was something there—a hesitation, a crack in the veneer of his resolve. “I love you. I can’t deny that. But I can’t be yours.”

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