Page 9 of Beneath His Robes

No. I do not care what he saw…it is not my place to care.

When my body was bare, I walked up the few stairs toward the shower. The cool water would help to soothe the heat lingering in my blood. I felt like a flickering candle that refused to extinguish its flame fully.

The water was indeed a shock to my system, and the chilling level I placed the handle on made me shiver. I stared down at my goose-bumped skin, watching the pebbling and feeling some relief from the heat fueling my emotions, and body parts finally started to calm.

“Come closer. Let me feel you. Let me remind you what you’ve been craving.”

No…

I gasped at the intrusive thoughts clouding my mind, cranking the water dial colder, closing my eyes, and accepting the burn in the freezing frigid shower.

“I belong to God. I belong to God…I…”

My chant echoed around me within the shower walls, but the water’s chill warmed when my mind refused to cease the swirl of thoughts and his words—those dangerous words of sin and temptation.

“No…not again. Just leave me be!” I cried, wanting to tear my hardening length off.

Pressing my hands firmly against the wall of the shower, I shook violently, unable to stop imagining Ronan’s voice and dark presence. He was tangible. It was as if he was right here in the shower with me.

“Give in to temptation, Mon Pur. I promise you will be on your knees for my touch. Let me taste you. All these years, I have wondered what the tang of your sweat would be like when you trembled beneath my cock.”

My cruel mind was the biggest sinner. Ronan’s naked, beautiful, hardened, strong body was in front of me, beckoning me closer, just like at the confessional. He was heaven-wrapped in sin. My personalized damnation to drag me the rest of the way to the hell I deserved.

“Stop…please,” I begged, helpless to this fantasy.

He reached forward, his strong tattooed hands brushing my skin so softly, it was like a whisper against my flesh, and my cock bounced in praise of his teasing near touch–aching to feel his hands, his mouth, his body.

“Do you really want that, Elias? Your body says differently.”

I shook my head, smashing my fist against the tile, feeling the crack of the material beneath my clenched hand.

“Damn, these thoughts! I belong to God. Please…rid me of these sins.”

Despite my prayers, the image my mind conjured up of Ronan beckoned me, the fantasy getting closer, his ghost-like body lowering to his knees, his mouth open wide before me.

The heat of his breath haunted me, and I began to pant.

I couldn’t handle this. I was not safe in my parish any longer.

I was damned in my one sanctuary.

“You ruin everything you touch,” I accused.

The desperation, lust, and pain prominent in my voice was a confession in itself. “Every part of my life, you darken with your presence. Leave me alone!”

Ronan chuckled, that dark, deep sound vibrating through him and straight to my balls.

“Fuck, Mon Pur. Not so pure anymore, are you? You are begging for my touch. Praying for your own damnation.”

I shook my head again, the sting on my hand registering as the blood dripped down the wall from the slash on my palm.

“Give in to me, Elias.”

His hand gripped his powerful cock. Looking away, I fought the urge to keep my eyes glued on how he stroked the soft skin from tip to base. I…wanted to taste him. Heat bloomed in my stomach, and that fire radiated through me from my head to my toes. My body took over, pleasure racking through me again and again.

“No…no. I don’t want this! I don’t want you,” I said, desperately backing away from Ronan’s wispy image and radiant smile.

“Too late, Mon Pur.”

---