Page 158 of Savior

She laughs, eyes lighting. “Damn, Luca, which club did you choose?”

I smile. “A holy one.”

Her pupils dilate with excitement as security opens my door, and I step out, reaching for her.

On the outside,Benedictionlooks like an unassuming, abandoned building. However, once we’re past security and the front desk, the space is open and beautiful.

Every surface is dark, from the black walls to the deep cherry floors. There are couples in the seating areas. Some men have women over their laps, hands spanking them as they count out their punishment.

There are spanking benches, pews with couples already in mid-sexual encounters, confessionals with signs on the door that say occupied or vacant, and a St. Andrews cross that mimics the holy cross of the church at the head of the room. It’s on a makeshift apse over the pews where screams of pleasure rip from a woman riding her Dom as he pulls the nipple clamps off her breasts.

“What is this place?” Sloane asks breathlessly, turning to look up at me.

I grin. “Benediction.”

She fights a smirk. “Oh, Father Russo, you did well.”

I incline my head. “Thank you. Now, the question is, what do you want to do first?”

She looks around, eyes lingering longingly at the unoccupied cross on the apse. “Feel like being on display, Father Russo?”

I can’t help but bite my lip. “I’ll do whatever you want me to, my little dove. You know that.”

She leads me to the apse, slowly removing my clothes as she gives me kisses that have my head spinning. When I’m fully naked before her, she backs me to the cross. There are straps on each point for my arms, and my feet are strapped to restraints on the floor that go over the tops.

I test the straps over my wrists, feeling entirely at her mercy as a speck of nerves wavers in my stomach. Not that I don’t trust her, but it’s only natural to be anxious when someone ties you up.

Giving control to someone else takes a lot of trust, and it’s why she’s the only one I’ll ever hand this kind of power to.

“How do you feel?” Sloane asks, sliding her hand over my pecs as she toys her hand through my chest hair.

My cock is throbbing between my splayed legs, begging for her attention.

“A little tense,” I admit.

She smiles. “Oh, Father Russo, don’t question your beliefs about me. You’re my sacrifice, after all. I want you willing.”

My grin drops at her words. “Oh, I’m willing.”

Her hand skims over the hair leading southward, then finds my cock, stroking two mind-numbing times, making me breathless. “Oh, I see that.”

“Please,” I beg, groaning as she thumbs over my gleaming slit, gathering the pre-cum already beaded for her.

When she falls to her knees, swirling her tongue around the pronounced head of me, my mouth drops open as I look down at her, pleading with each ounce of air in my lungs for her to keep going.

“Want me to worship you, Father Russo?”

“Sloane,” I implore.

“Yes, Father?”

Fuck.

Seeing her with power purring through her like the high-power roaring through an engine is addictive. Even while she’s on her knees at my feet, she’s in utter control, and she knows it.

“You said I was a good boy,” I manage. “Remember?”

She slides her tongue down my shaft, alluringly slow, eyes never leaving mine. There’s hellfire dancing in them, and I want to fucking touch it.

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