I gripped the cross in my fingertips, his sweet come still coating the tips.
Making sure he was watching, I slipped the cross into my mouth. The taste of metal and his sweetness was a combination that warred in my senses.
“Oh, fuck.” he barked, and I couldn’t help but smile. My Little Sinner.
“You sound so sweet when you sin for me, Father Cross.”
He whimpered in response. “I did this because of you. Now every day, I am forced to live with this contraption on my cock…to prevent me from giving in. I can’t trust myself. Not with you.”
I smiled wider, somewhat enjoying that his resistance brought him pain, and sucked the rosary deeper into my mouth. He knew I was imagining his cock in my mouth, and based on his intake of stuttering inhales—he was too.
“You can cage your cock from me, Mon Pur,” I said, my tongue sliding down the ridges of the cross. “But you can’t block me from your mind. I would suck you so deep down my throat, making sure you saw the bulge. I would moan and let those vibrations travel to your balls. You have never felt the heat I can give with you in my mouth. I would worship your cock, Elias. I would worship every fucking inch of you.”
ChapterThirteen
Elias
Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own. You were bought at a price. Therefore, honor God with your bodies.
The bible verse bounced around my mind, the pressure of my cage ached, and my cock was desperate to harden. Seeing Ronan taste me after all these years. His dangerous words, the fantasies he provoked in my wild mind.
It was all too much.
It was…God.
It was true salvation.
I could feel the weight of the moment, heavier than the snow that blanketed the world around us. Ronan let my necklace fall back to my chest, licking his fingers back into his mouth. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and for a heartbeat, I was lost—completely lost—in the pure ecstasy of the action.
The heat of him looking at me, our bodies aligning in the way they always had, the way they always would, no matter how hard I tried to bury it.
His hands reached forward toward me, beckoning me closer, urging me to forget everything—the vows, the responsibilities, the years apart.
But how can I?
How could I forget the life I had chosen?
The life that kept me bound to something greater than myself?
I was a broken, pathetic man that ended a life. I swore when Father Franklin found me on those steps that morning after the accident that I was going to be something—anything but the piece of shit I’d grown to be.
Still…in Ronan’s arms, all of that felt irrelevant.
All that mattered was him.
I closed my eyes, letting myself breathe him in, feeling the pulse of his heart against mine, and for a fleeting moment, I thought maybe, just maybe, I could abandon everything for this—for us.
My fingers slipped over his bare skin, tracing the familiar path of his scars, those marks of a life he had lived. Some were familiar. I knew of them from our childhood. Snapping turtles taking a chunk out of his left pectoral on a July summer, but there were others that were as foreign to me as the life he lived without me.
I wanted to memorize him.
“Who were you when you left me, Ronan? What did you become In that big city?”
Ronan stiffened, his mouth opening to speak,
But then the sound cut through us like a knife. A sharp snap of a twig a short distance away. My heart slammed against my ribs, and I pulled back, instinctively scanning the trees around us.
Ronan didn’t move immediately. He was stuck in his mind. He was still so close, his breath mingling with mine, and for a second, I thought we could ignore the sound, pretend it hadn’t happened.