Page 59 of Savior

She frees my dick and strokes over it a few times. It feels foreign and mind-numbingly good.

“Do you want to confess to me?” she asks, igniting a fire in my gut. One that could be dangerous if stoked.

“For which sin would I confess? They’re amassing at such an alarming rate at this point.”

She grins wickedly before leaning toward my length.

“Sloane, I—”Holy fuck.

Her hot mouth closes over the head, sliding down my shaft painfully slowly.

I know it’s because she knows this is my first time with my cock inside anything, let alone a mouth. The feel of her as she picks up her pace nearly has my eyes crossing.

“Fuck, little dove, this is so wrong,” I manage, hands fisting in her hair as my mind thinks of how she looked with my rosary wrapped tightly around her windpipe.

How she’d given over to me.

I felt powerful.

Like I was her God.

Such thoughts are blasphemous and wrong, but I can’t help but harden further in her mouth, to which she moans.

I’m not going to last. She adds a hand behind her mouth, and my head falls back. I will make a fool of myself in only a few minutes.

But I want to know what it feels like to come in her mouth.

“I want you to swallow it. Every. Last. Drop,” I growl out, not knowing what is possessing me to make me act so out of character.

Is it her?

Did Lucifer send her himself to pull me off my path of righteousness?

If so, I’m failing miserably to pass the test before me.

“I’m going to baptize you with my cum, little dove.” My words sound muffled as the orgasm builds, my body tingling and pinpricks singing through the head of my cock as she works me over with her mouth and hand. “You’re going to be reborn after this. You’ll bemine. Do you understand me? Anointed and blessed by me, but you have to swallow my offering, all of it. Swallow my power down. Do you hear me?”

My words are edging on mania, but Sloane nods at me anyhow.

“Good girl, yes, good girl,” I stammer as my climax washes over me, and I thrust up off the bench into her mouth, cum spilling into her mouth and down her throat as I hear her swallow and gag on me.

“Sloane!” I breathe, still lazily fucking her mouth as I ride out the last pulses of orgasm.

When she licks me clean and sits back on her haunches, we’re silent for a moment.

“Father Russo? You in here anywhere?” a voice sounds out. It’s Harrietta White, the leader of the women’s groups that I have to meet with today about a luncheon that will happen in a few weeks.

I stand, worrying my lip as I get myself back inside my jeans.

Sloane cups my face gently, her lips softly melding to mine as she lets me taste myself on her kiss. “Go. I’ll wait till she’s gone and go back home. And your confession is safe with me, Father,” she tells me, as if she knows I need to know that I have her discretion.

Because I could lose my entire life for the things I’ve allowed to happen with her, and she knows it.

As much as I feel I have power over her, she has power over me.

“Mrs. White,” I say as I leave the confessional. I know my cheeks are heated, and my hair is askew, but Harietta looks none the wiser.

“There you are. I was looking everywhere for you.”

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