Page 94 of Savior

His lips dust over mine as he teases them with the tip of his tongue.

“Who?” I whimper.

I’m sure he means God. In his position in the Catholic church, it has to feel as though God is prodding at his good nature.

“Satan,” he breathes, startling me to my very center.

“Wha—” I end the question with a raspy scream when he reaches between us, freeing his cock and tugging the rosary out of my pussy. He tosses the rosary on the floor, and I must admit it feels like he’s just thrown his faith aside to prepare for what’s about to happen between us.

He grinds once more; this time, though, his cock is silky and accessible as it glides between my lips like the softest prayer.

He continues to rock back and forth, his cock rubbing me closer and closer to orgasm as he never enters my body, only teasing his way through my pussy lips, keeping the thinnest lid on his sensibility.

I can’t let him fuck me.

I can’t be why this perfect man loses touch with his entire faith and status with God.

“Luca, we can’t.” My words are panted whispers as his pace increases.

His face is contorted in such a feral way that I wonder if he’s heard me.

“Luca!” This time, it’s come out a heady moan. One that only has him press into my center with more pressure as he places two hands on the top of my head for leverage.

“God, your velvet cunt is the closest thing I’ve ever felt to rapture,” he growls.

I can’t keep my eyes open. This is headed to sure damnation, and I can’t watch.

Only feel.

“Don’t stop,” I plead, losing all worry for his soul and mine when I feel a familiar warm buzzing tingle over my skin. “Please, Father Russo, don’t stop!”

“Will you fuck me in hell, Sloane? When the Devil opens his gates and lets me walk through, will you be there on your knees with your mouth wide open to capture my cum?”

“Yes! Yes!” I mutter incoherently, digging my nails into his back as he moans and continues to slide through my folds like a beast that’s lost all control.

And fuck if he isn’t the sexiest monster I’ve ever met in my life.

And I’ve seen some dark shit in my lifetime.

“Would you swallow me down, Sloane? Would you lick your lips free of my cum?”

He’s close; his words are desperate, and that singular knowledge tosses me over the edge.

“Luca! God!” My body sputters as orgasm slams into me like a ton of bricks.

My eyes nearly cross as light prickles through my vision.

He doesn’t follow me over the cliff, though. Instead, he removes his sweats in a rush, kneels over my body, positioning himself over my chest, his cock bobbing heavily, and jacks it over my face.

“Will you swallow my cum down, my child?” he asks, his devilish eyes gobbling up the sight of me as I mindlessly open my lips to him.

“Yes, Father.”

He groans from a deep place in his chest, closing his eyes as his hand works over his cock quickly, the slapping of skin and our mingled, panted breaths the only sound in the cabin.

“Come for me, Father Russo. Let me taste you,” I egg him on.

His abs tighten, his mouth drops open, and he bows forward as he does just that.

---