Page 35 of Beneath His Robes

I slipped my hand into his jeans, just over the soft fabric of his boxers. My suspicions were confirmed when his cage felt cool to the touch. Even with his sex bound in the metal, I could feel the wetness there.

“You don’t have to be a priest tonight,” I murmured, the words like a plea, but they were also a promise. “You don’t have to be anyone but yourself. Not with me. Stop hurting yourself, Mon Pur. Take this thing off.”

His body shuddered beneath my touch, precome leaking out of his cock and coating my fingers in the sticky liquid.

I moaned and ground my own cock into his pelvis. I felt the way his breath caught in his throat.

He didn’t pull away.

He didn’t retreat.

Instead, he leaned into me, his lips brushing mine again, this time tentative, but there was a hunger there, too.

His hands moved to my chest, spinning us so my back was against the tree. His fingers gripped my sweater, pulling at it as if he couldn’t get enough of me. I pulled off my jacket, letting him strip me of my shirt. His touch was more urgent, needy, and it mirrored every unspoken thing between us as I ground myself harder into his caged cock.

I kissed him again, deeper this time, coaxing him to let go of the doubt and guilt.

He didn’t need to carry it anymore. I could feel him weakening, his control slipping as his lips parted beneath mine. His hands moved over my exposed chest and lower over my waist, and I shivered at the heat of his touch. The snow falling around us couldn’t chill me. Not when the only thing that mattered was the fire that had always burned between us.

“Ronan…” His voice was strained, a whisper of a name, but the way he said it made me ache.

There was no distance between us now, no barriers. Only the desperate need to be together, to let go of everything else.

“I’m here,” I said, my voice low, like a vow. I could feel the rapid thrum of my heart against his chest, the pulsing heat between us. “I’m here, Elias. And I won’t leave you again. I fucking promise.”

I could feel him pause like he was weighing the words, the reality of it all. I saw the vulnerability in his eyes—the priest, the man bound by duty and obligation—and the man so human and lost to this need between us.

His lips parted, and for a moment, I thought he might push me away, that he might pull away and take it all back, but instead, he closed his eyes and kissed me again, deeper this time, with a fierceness that rivaled my own.

He pressed my hands into his underwear, breaking the kiss to lean back to stare at me. Neither of us could catch our breath.

“Oh fuck, Mon Pur,” I panted, feeling his cock flex inside the cage but unable to lengthen.

“I told you I can’t,” he said with a pained laugh. “The key. It’s with my God. After you brought back too many sinful thoughts, I broke down.”

I listened to his words, waiting for him to elaborate.

“My key is inside the church, Ronan. I couldn’t trust myself with my sex. So I trusted Him.”

I responded instinctively, my hands moving over his caged cock, pushing my fingers through the bars and listening to him hiss at my cool touch. I kissed him, my stupid, masochistic fool.

He groaned into my mouth, and I felt a surge of triumph and relief.

“You are so afraid of me that you’d cage your cock from me?” I said, exasperation thick in my tone.

I couldn’t stop now. He didn’t want me to stop, not with the way his hands were moving, urging me closer.

His eyes met mine, and for the first time, I saw it—he was no longer fighting. He was no longer the priest or the man of restraint. He was just Elias, the man I had loved, the man who had never truly left me.

“I had to,” he said with a shaky laugh. “I can’t keep pretending,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, barely audible, but the truth of it was there. “I never stopped wanting you, clearly. Even in a cage, I am leaking all my sin onto your fingertips.”

I moaned and brought my fingers up to my mouth, daring to taste his sweet precome.

His Rosary was swaying against my face with this position, and I got a devilish idea.

“Such a heavy weight you bear, Mon pur. This little trinket on your neck feels like a thousand pounds.”

Elias panted, watching me with careful, unsteady breaths.

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