Page 43 of Forgive Me Father
Glaring at the chairs, Roman shakes his head.
"Eden, what you saw-"
“Or will you have me kneel at your feet during Mass?” I toy with the knotted rope at my waist, pulling at the frayed ends.
Stepping in front of me, he holds up his hands. His brow furrows as he opens his mouth to speak, but I quickly cut him off.
"Let me see you in it," I snap, glancing back at the chair. "Take a seat," I urge. "Then we can talk."
Looking back at his chair, I can see the tension crackling in the air between us. The power play I’ve set in motion clearly frustrates him, his eyes narrowing into a glare that threatens to cut me into a thousand pieces. The attraction simmering beneath our conflict only heightens the stakes, making his struggle to maintain control all the more intense.
“I’m not doing this with you.”
"You’re going to have to," I hiss, "or else I’m going straight to the police-"
"And what do you think they will do?" He takes a step toward me, his hand coiling around the rope at my waist, tugging me just a bit closer to him. "You think they’ll care what happened inside the walls of this church?" He snaps angrily. "That little fuck deserved what I did to him. Don’t act like you disagree. Don’t stand there and act like you’re going to open your mouth about what you saw.”
"What makes you think I won't?" I let my eyes travel up and down his body, making sure he knew I was sizing him up, daring him to underestimate me.
Tensing his jaw, Roman eyes the chair, his hand coiling tighter around the rope around my waist.
"Fine, you want me in the chair, Eden?" He challenges, his voice laced with tension as he grabs hold of me. I try to push him away, but his grip is firm as he drags me along with him. He drops into the chair with a deliberate sprawl, pulling me between his legs. I can feel the heat of his body pressing against mine, even through the clothes that separate us. His chin tilts up, eyes locking onto mine. The air between us is thick with a mix of desire and defiance. My hands press against his chest, resisting, but the magnetic pull between us is impossible to ignore.
Looking down at him, I cock my head to the side as his hands move from the rope to my hips.
"Your turn," He hisses. "Take a seat."
I try to move away, eyeing the deacon’s chair beside him.
"Not there, Eden."
Looking toward his lap, I bite back the smirk tugging at my lips, shaking my head at him with mock disapproval. My eyes flick upward to the massive cross hanging above the altar, and I can’t help but find the situation almost comedic. "You really think this is a good idea in his presence?" I tease, my voice laced with playful defiance, letting the weight of the moment settle between us.
He grabs me, pulling me toward him with a firm, insistent grip. My body instinctively leans into his, his hand sliding up my thigh, urging me onto his lap. His other hand quickly finds my opposite leg, guiding me with an urgency that sends a shiver through me. As I straddle him, the thin fabric of my underwear brushes against the hardness beneath his robes, a dangerous sensation that heightens the tension between us. My hands grip the back of the chair for support as I settle into his lap, his eyeswidening when he realizes I’m wearing nothing beneath the robe but my panties. He leans in closer, his voice low and filled with playful authority as he murmurs, "God will forgive me. After all, he created temptation for a reason, didn't he?"
"Maybe, but even temptation has its limits. Think you can handle it, or should I remind you of what happens to sinners?" I rock my hips gently, feeling the hard length of his cock under the fabric of his robe rub against my bare thigh. His hands tighten around my hips,
“Sit still, Eden,” He growls. Adrenaline courses through me at an all-time high. “We need to talk about Zack.”
"Is that your secret? You get off on punishing your altar servers?" I look down at him, my hands wrapping around the back of his head, burying into his locks.
“Maybe that’s why you and my father get along so well.”
Grabbing the back of my neck, Roman tugs my hair hard, exposing my neck to him. A small yelp makes its way out of me, my body aching from the pressure.
Leaning into me, he drags his cheek along my exposed neck, grazing his nose along my jawline.
"I will never be like your piece of shit father," He snaps, more forceful than usual. "I'd much rather have you here like this, walking the line of my faith to God, than anywhere near him."
"And if God were to turn his back on you for this?"
"I can always worship someone else." His eyes trace over my body, slow and deliberate, as if he’s trying to memorize every detail. The intensity of his gaze sends a thrill through me, and when our eyes lock, the desire in his expression is impossibleto miss. He looks at me like he’s barely holding back, and it’s enough to make my breath catch.
The warmth between my legs grows as his cock continues to press against my center through our robes, and I decide to test just how far he’s willing to go.
"Why was Zack deserving of your punishment, Father?" I rock my hips again, his hand tightens around the hair at the nape of my neck.
"Eden-"
