Page 98 of Beneath His Robes

“I…” I started, but my words got tangled up in my chest.

He was close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from him, the faint smell of cologne that mixed with the scent of his skin.

I could almost taste the space between us, the invisible barrier that kept us from crossing that line. But it was getting thinner with every second. The one we consistently tried to erect after our stolen moments, the one that erected again but became thinner and thinner.

“What do you need from me, Elias,” he murmured, his voice low, soothing. “And before you answer, keep in mind that Travis is asleep on the couch over there. But hey…I have no expectations. No judgment here.”

His words made everything inside me twist.No judgmentwas all I’d wanted for so long. But expectations—that was the dangerous part. The part where I would have to reckon with what I was really feeling. What we were both feeling.

His hand moved closer to mine, and I could feel the heat from his skin now, the tenderness in the way his fingers brushed against my knuckles. It was a touch so simple, so soft, yet it felt like a promise. A promise I wasn’t sure I could keep if I let myself follow through.

I swallowed, my voice tight. “Ronan, this isn’t… this isn’t a good idea. Travis could see something…something I…”

But even as I said it, the truth felt like it was slipping through my fingers. Because, deep down, I knew it was already too late.

Ronan’s eyes searched mine, intense and knowing.

“What are you afraid he will see, Mon Pur?”

His hand finally settled on mine, fingers wrapping around with a strength that felt like something more than just desire. It felt like the pull of fate. Or perhaps just the pull of our loneliness, our shared history.

“Are you asking me to give in to you? Or to pull away? Can we really pretend anymore? Even here.”

I wanted to respond. To tell him it was wrong to be so unholy here, in front of another. To remind him of who I was—the priest, the one who should know better. But the words didn’t come. Not when he was so close, not when I could feel the longing in his touch, in the way his thumb traced the back of my hand.

“Maybe Travis can learn a thing or two,” he whispered, leaning in just enough that I could feel the heat of his breath against my skin. “The way you fuuuck so damn good, Elias. I have never met anyone like you.”

The confession hit me like a wave. I didn’t know how to respond. Didn’t know what to say, because I felt the same. He was ungodly in the way he destroyed me. I needed him. I always needed him for longer than I’d been willing to admit.

But this? This was a line I hadn’t crossed. This was a line I shouldn’t cross.

And yet, as I looked at him, his face inches from mine, his breath mingling with mine, I felt the ability to care starting to unravel.

I closed my eyes, taking a shaky breath.

“We can’t do this,” I said again, this time more to myself than to him. “I can’t do this.”

Ronan’s thumb brushed over the back of my hand again, his voice barely a whisper. “But you want to. Don’t you? You want to fucking try to hold back your moans while I fuck you on this counter. You want to submit to me. You want to obey.”

The question hung in the air between us, a challenge, a plea, a desperate truth we both knew. My heart raced in my chest, and I could feel the tension building like it was going to snap any second.

The air was thick and heavy with the unsaid, and it felt like we were teetering on the edge of something we couldn’t undo.

Travis’s snores were audible, and I focused on the loud cadence and rhythm. I could time my moans to those lawnmower sounds…

No! What was I thinking? I had to stop this. It was one thing to enjoy Ronan in the safety of the shadows no one could see, but this?

I opened my eyes, meeting his gaze. And for one long moment, I didn’t say anything. I didn’t have to because in that silence, I realized something.

Maybe I didn’t really want to stop.

I could feel the tension thick in the air, suffocating, almost overwhelming. Ronan’s hand was still wrapped around mine, his thumb tracing small, slow circles over my skin. His touch was gentle but insistent, like he was asking for something more, something I wasn’t sure I could give him, not without losing more of my sanity in the process.

I couldn’t lose control.

I swallowed hard, trying to steady my breathing, but the soft rhythm of his hand on mine was like a melody I couldn’t ignore. I wanted to pull away, to tell him that this was a mistake that I was a priest, Travis was too close to us, and he…

He was Ronan—someone who deserved someone whole, not someone twisted up with guilt and sin like I was. I couldn’t just enjoy Ronan in private. He deserved someone shouting to all the love they had for him.

---