by Sara Cate
She lets out a sweet, high-pitched moan, squeezing her hand as she starts pumping again, and I am undone.
“Cora, oh God—”
The feeling that takes my body is nothing less than euphoria. Locked in pleasure, I can hardly breathe as my heart pounds so loudly it rattles my bones. It’s like I can’t stop coming, and I don't take my mouth off of hers for a second.
Finally, when my ears can hear and my eyes can see again, I pull back to look down at the girl in my arms. She’s staring up at me with awe and wonder, but then she glances down. We both do.
And the sight mortifies me. I didn’t just come all over her hand, but there are white spurts of cum across her black habit and even some on her neck and chin.
Jesus, what have I done?
Chapter 6
Cora
* * *
I am never going back to the convent.
I couldn’t possibly now, not after what happened. This feeling of power in my hands, the connection between us, the hunger coursing through my veins—it all feels too good.
A smile stretches across my face as I gaze up at Father Roman. He is wearing a look of utter shock, as if he’s still reeling from the pleasure that shook his body like an earthquake.
“Cora, I’m...I’m so sorry.”
Too quickly, he pulls away, leaving me with a warm mess all over my hands and clothes. After tucking his softening dick in his pants, he rushes to grab the box of tissues from his desk and quickly cleans the mess. Before he can, I rub my fingers together, reveling in the feel of his warm seed against my skin.
I want more. I need it.
“It’s okay,” I reply carefully.
“I never should have—” he rambles. “This was a mistake.”
“A mistake?”
When he hears the confusion in my voice, his expression falls. “Oh no, Cora. It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
He dotes on me, cleaning me quickly, and I can’t seem to take my eyes off of him. I’ve always thought Father Roman was beautiful, in a regal, godlike sort of way, but after seeing the way his face contorts when he comes, I’m even more attracted to him. There is a stirring of need between my legs.
As he takes a tissue to my chin, I grab his hand and stare up into his eyes. “We didn’t do anything wrong.” He looks so troubled, and I just want to ease his discomfort.
“Yes, we did, Cora. I took vows. I made a promise to God.”
My heart sinks.
I swallow, forcing my face to convey compliance instead of the devastation I’m feeling.
“Of course.”
I can’t look him in the eye, but I can see him struggling too. Once my hands are dry and clean, he brushes his fingers along my shoulder. It feels like he’s comforting me, and I hate it. I hate that I feel like a sin now, like something that felt so good and that I loved so much is not accepted by God. It’s not fair.
His shoulders are tense as he plants his hands on the desk and hangs his head.
Walking over to him, I run a hand softly along his back.
“It was supposed to make you feel better.”
“It didn’t,” he bites back. Immediately, he softens. “I’m sorry, Cora. I don’t want you to worry. You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re...you’re perfect.”
With his vivid green eyes on me and those words on his lips, I feel a new flutter of warmth crawl up my spine. He thinks I’m perfect.
“It’s me. I’m the one to blame. Let me worry about this.”
“Worry about what?” I ask, leaning closer.
“About—” He seems pained as he tries to compose his thoughts. “It’s late, Cora. Probably best that we get to bed. We have another busy day tomorrow.”
My mouth feels dry, and there’s a subtle itch under my skin, as if I want to move or scream or cry. I feel myself clenching my thighs together to try and settle the strange feeling, but it barely helps. I’ve never felt this way before and I assume it’s just the chaos of the last thirty minutes.
I can still feel his hard cock in my hands, and I can still taste his perfect mouth on my lips. He’s overwhelmed my senses, but I feel so...unfulfilled. And I need something. I just don’t know what.
The ache doesn’t go away through my nightly prayers, and I can barely focus on the scriptures I’m supposed to be reading tonight.
What happened in his office was amazing, but now I feel awful. This might as well be the flu. The body aches are there. My throat hurts, my head pounds, and moisture leaks onto my panties every time I think about Father Roman’s cock in my hand.
I know what’s wrong with me, but there’s nothing I can do about it.
Even if I was allowed to relieve myself, I’m too stubborn—because that’s not what I want. Out of all of the times I’ve asked myself if this is truly the life I want, this is the first time I’ve actually doubted it. What if I feel like this all the time? I know what this ache is, and there’s really no other way to explain it—I’m horny. So what if I never truly get the release I’m craving? I hate that thought.
Lying in bed, I think about Father Roman during the service, remembering how his fingers flip the pages of his Bible, and I squirm in my bed. Even as I replay his homily and how he spoke of Mary and Joseph’s long and painful journey, I think sinful, wanton things about those fingers of his and what they would feel like. Closing my eyes, I imagine his hands on me. What would he do if he could touch me without abandon? Would he be rough or gentle? Would he strum my clit until I came or would he hook his long digits inside of me, hitting that perfect spot?
I bite my bottom lip, stopping myself from letting out a moan as I fantasize the most beautiful, dirty scenarios with the one man I can’t have.
Chapter 7
Father Roman
* * *
Lying in the dark room, I hear nothing but the ticking of the clock, and I can't stop thinking about Cora's hand around my cock and that forbidden encounter we hadin my office.
It was sacreligious, but it was also everything I think I've ever wanted—well, not everything.
I kissed her. I kissed my sweet Cora, and it wasn't just the heat of the moment. It was the lips I've watched speak a million words, lips I've watched in prayer and in laughter. Lips I've come to love.
I do love her.
I've known this much for a long time. How could I not? Years and years together, knowing everything we could possibly know about each other. We might as well be married already. And now we've crossed that line, and there is no going back.
Before we parted for the night, she looked back at me nervously then disappeared down the hallway to her sleeping quarters, and I could see so much turmoil on her face. She looked pained, confused and scared—all because of me. Because I'm a man who takes but has nothing to give.
I really can't give Cora what she wants. That's the bottom line. I might as well be the devil himself for what I'm putting her through—loving her without touching her.
But then a wicked idea begins to brew in my mind. An idea that I should put to rest immediately, but I don't. The idea comes straight from the devil's mouth...
* * *
If I've crossed the line already, what's a little more? A sin is a sin after all.
* * *
So what's another sin?
Nothing.
And at the end of the day, I know the truth—my soul is a small price to pay for her happiness. I would burn eternally for her.
That's all it takes for me to fly out of bed. It's well past two in the morning when I walk silently across the cold stone floor. There's no one else in the church tonight, but I still feel like I'm being watched as I creep into the pitch-black hallway, where her room resides off to the left.
I sleep in the dormitory attached to the church, but for guests and the nuns, we keep separate barracks. It's a bare room with not much more than a bed and an attached bathroom.
My bare footsteps are almost silent but they still sound as loud as thun
der as I approach the closed door of her room. Fuck, what am I doing? What will I even do when I go in there? We can't...
I've had sex before, so it's not like I'm a virgin. I had my heyday back in my twenties—alright maybe heyday is not what I mean, more like I had sex with three different girls between the ages of eighteen and twenty-one, and I was an idiot who didn't have a clue what I was doing all three times.
* * *
But I didn't feel for them what I feel for Cora.
Still, before I knock, I make a mental plan. I will not, cannot, have sex with Cora. Not tonight.
Not. Ever.
But I just need to see her. I need to know she's okay. I need her to know that what happened back in the office can't happen again—
Fuck, who am I kidding? I'm going in because my body craves her nearness. I want to touch her skin, feel the softness of her breasts and the warmth between her legs. I'm going in there because I'm a depraved, sick man who wants to breathe in the aroma of her arousal and taste the salt of her skin. And I don't feel as guilty about wanting it as I should.
Letting myself accept what this really is, I feel almost better. So I knock.
It's soft and subtle, but within seconds, I hear her voice on the other side. "Come in."
She sounds eager, and I quickly turn the knob, pushing inside. I hear the rustling of her sheets, so even though her room is too dark to see her, I know that she's still in bed.
"It's wrong of me to come here," I whisper, because old habits die hard and although I walked my desperate ass over here, I'm still going to try and apologize for it.
"Stay. Please," she calls to me, and I hear the desperation in her voice.
"Are you okay?"
"I...I..."
"What is it, Cora?"
A bit of moonlight shines in through the window, allowing my eyes to slowly adjust as I close the door and tiptoe across the space. I don't go near her on the bed, not yet; I take a seat on the chair by the window. As her soft features finally come into focus, I notice the way she fidgets on her bed.
"I ache," she says.
My cock flinches in my pants. Why? From her discomfort? Her pain? What the fuck is wrong with me?
I clear my throat. "Why do you ache, Cora?"
"I think I need..."
Oh, I know what she needs, but can I really be the one to give it to her? I mean, I can. There’s nothing I want more than to find the erogenous spots on her body that make her purr. To play with her like a toy, bringing her pleasure, so I can see the expressions on her face and the sounds she would make.
"Cora, I can't," I respond and I immediately hate myself. This isn't for virtue. It's from fear.
She hangs her head. "I understand."
"It's just—" I don't even know what I want to say. "I can't."
"I know. You said that. I understand," she snaps, and I certainly can't blame her for that. She jerked me off in my office, and now my stupid ass can't even return the favor. Fuck, I hate myself.
"Have you tried..." God, why is this so hard to ask. "Have you tried to relieve yourself?"
Her head snaps up. "That's a sin."
"What we did today was a sin, Cora.”
Looking nervous, she plays with the end of her long braid. I love seeing her hair again, the long snowy, white strands framing her pale face. I want to touch it so bad.
"I haven't tried."
"Can you try for me?"
My mouth goes dry as she glances up at me again. Again...what the actual fuck am I doing?
"Right now? With you here?"
"You must think I'm depraved." in the things I want."
"You're never alone, Cora. I'm always with you."
"I know." I can see the smile on her face in the moonlight.
After a moment, she reclines against her pillow. "You really want to watch?"
Her voice is smooth like satin, filling my ears and my mind with filthy and beautiful thoughts that make me want to live forever in this moment with her.
"Yes," I gasp breathlessly. "Please."
The room grows silent and every moment stretches into forever as she pushes down the white down blanket to reveal her body in nothing but a modest bra and panties. I don't dare move an inch as she snakes her hand down her stomach and under the band of her underwear.
Immediately her legs fall open, and I let out a low moan. The moment I imagine her fingers making contact with the forbidden warmth between her legs, her back arches and she hums in pleasure.
Fuck.
My cock is painfully hard already.
"Take them off," I croak, before even thinking through what I'm asking. But she doesn't hesitate, shimmying her panties down her legs and revealing her beautiful cunt.
"Tell me what to do," she pants.
God, help me now.
Fuck it. There is no help for me anymore.
"Are you wet? Touch yourself. Tell me how it feels."
She runs her delicate fingers through her lips, and I can already see the moisture glistening in the moonlight.
"Oh,” she cries. "I'm wet. Father Roman...it feels good."
"Touch your clit," I tell her. "Use those juices to get it nice and wet."
She does as I say, latching her first finger on that spot above her lips, running wet circles around it. I can't get over the way her breathing shallows and her legs move and jerk. There's not a single part of her body that can hold still as she pleasures herself.
"Keep going, baby," I urge her on. "You're almost there."
"I'm not. I can't do it," she cries out. Her head is tilted back, revealing her long neck. I wish I could touch her or kiss her. But if I go over there, I can't promise I could stop myself.
No matter how much I want to give her the pleasure she needs. I know exactly how I would do it too. I could easily make her scream my name with my mouth on her wet, beautiful—
No. I have to stop.I'm better over here.
"Yes, you can, Cora. Tell me what you're thinking about."
She groans. "I'm thinking about you." The words slip out of her mouth so fast. About me? "I’m thinking about your cock, how it felt in my hand. About the look on your face as you came all over me. It was so...wrong. So dirty." Her voice is strangled and her hand picks up speed, strumming her clit.
I have to adjust the concrete bulge in my pants. Fuck, I want to come like that again.
"What else?" I ask, trying to help her finish.
"It's inside of me," she gasps. "So hard and smooth, filling me up."
A little cum leaks out of my cock at her words, but I don't pay any attention to it. She's so close. I can tell. "Keep going, Cora."
"You're fucking me, Father Roman. We're in your office, and I'm on your desk. We'll be caught, so you...uhhh...you fuck me faster."
Jesus.
She has to be coming soon. She looks to be in agony, her body writhing and desperate, but even as she carries on with her story and the harsh circles of her clit, there is no climax. My girl is hurting, and I have to do something.
Finally, she stops, dropping her hand. Then her face twists into a look of pain. She covers her eyes and begins to sob. "What is wrong with me?"
I leap out of my chair and land at her side, pulling her into my arms. I don't even care that she's half-naked anymore. She just has to stop crying. "I'm here."
Her hands clutch at me desperately. Then, they are on my face and she's pulling me down until her lips are against mine. "I need you. Please."
How could I deny her? God sent her to me. He brought us together for a reason. I have to believe that. So I finally let go.
I kiss her hungrily, dipping my tongue into her mouth and her body buzzes in my arms.
"Touch me," she gasps, and my hands couldn't stop their roaming if they tried. Running my fingers from her shoulder, down her breasts and to the apex of her thighs, I shudder as I feel the warm, wet moisture of her pussy.
She pulls me until I'm lying on top of her, but I'm still in my flannel pants
and white cotton shirt. My fingers run through her wet lips and she's writhing beneath me. When I notice her jerk or her eyes close, I do it again, hitting the same spot. But before I focus on her clit, I need to feel what it's like to be inside her.
Lifting my fingers away from her, I look into her eyes as I dip the middle one into my mouth. The taste of her hits my taste buds and I am undone with need. She looks momentarily shocked as I clean her arousal off my finger before I move it back down to between her legs. Then I slide it in while our eyes are locked.
Her lips fall open, but she holds onto my gaze. It feels...amazing. She is tight and warm, and there is so much to explore.
"Oh my God," she gasps.
"Am I hurting you?"
Clinging to my shoulders, she holds me closer. "No, not at all. It's so..."
I hook my finger, pulsing harder, and it steals the words from her lips. Her eyes roll and her head falls back.
"...good."
Okay, then. Slipping another finger in, I keep up the motion of thrusting a crooked finger inside her.
"Don't stop," she pants.
She's going to come. And although five minutes ago, I was desperate to give her this release, right now, I'm not ready. I need more.
But it's too late. Her tiny body erupts beneath me. Arching off the bed, she clenches her thighs around my hand and trembles with the intensity of her orgasm. She moans, high-pitched and beautiful.
It lasts a long time, but I don't stop. When her eyes finally open and her muscles relax, she stares up at me with love and excitement, but her hunger doesn't look quenched at all. In fact, she looks even more desperate.
Grabbing onto my face, she drags me in for another kiss. When she pulls away, her smile fades. "Don't leave. I'm not done."
Relaxing my body against hers, I plant another kiss on her lips. I still can't believe I made her come like that, and I don't think I've ever been happier in my life. Leave? That would be insane.