Twisted Christmas

by Sara Cate

  Turning back to Cora, I pick up her duffel bag and give her a secret wink.

  “Merry Christmas, Sister.”

  Those are the last words I utter as I lead Cora out of the convent and into my car. She doesn’t even look back.

  Once we get back to church, there are a lot of questions to be answered, but I quickly send everyone away for the evening. Services are done. Christmas is over, mostly.

  Cora stands shyly in the kitchen, waiting for me when I come looking for her.

  We are truly alone, and it feels like there is too much ahead of us to deal with all at once. I want her with me at all times, next to me and with me, but I don’t want to scare her away.

  “Are you hungry?” I ask carefully.

  She shakes her head.

  “Would you like to get settled in your room?”

  “My room?”

  “Or…” I say, taking a step closer.

  “I thought we could…” she adds nervously. I can’t take another second, grabbing her by the hand and pulling her against me. I’ve gone so long with Cora in my life, not touching her or kissing her, but now that I have and I know the taste of her lips, I can’t bear to go one second without it.

  I press my mouth to hers, and she melts for me, parting her sweet lips enough to let me in. Our tongues mingle in delicate friction, and she lets out a soft hum. How did a man like me, already halfway through my thirties, end up with such a beautiful woman who actually wants me? It’s too good to be true.

  As bad as I want to take her to my bed right now, I have a better idea in mind. “Come with me,” I whisper, breaking the kiss and taking her by the hand. I lead her down the hall and to my attached quarters. It’s a small apartment with my own bathroom, kitchen, living area, and of course, bedroom.

  She looks around in awe. With as much as we’ve been together the past five years, I’ve never brought her here. It would have been extremely inappropriate, a thought that only makes me laugh now.

  “Shower with me,” I say, pulling her toward the bathroom.

  She inhales quickly, her chest expanding and her mouth gently lifting at the corners. Then, she nods eagerly. As her fingers move toward the button of her blouse, I notice the slight tremble.

  “Are you nervous?”

  She swallows and smiles. “A little.”

  “I’ll go in first, and you can meet me in there,” I say. Then I kiss her on the forehead and go into the bathroom alone. As soon as the door shuts, I start up the water and undress quickly, leaving my folded uniform on the countertop. The white collar sits on top and it’s a reminder of what I now have to face.

  Brushing the thought aside, I get in the shower and close the curtain. “I’m ready when you are,” I call. Instantly, the door opens, and a moment later, the curtain moves to the side.

  She lets out a small gasp when she sees me. Then I remember—Cora has only seen me without my collar a handful of times, and she’s never seen me fully naked. I don’t know if she’s ever seen a man fully naked at all, but a possessive part of me hopes not.

  So I take her hand and pull her in. Her soft white hair is down, cascading down her back. Soft freckles cover her shoulders, and I lean down, trying to kiss each one as her hands touch my chest softly, rubbing through my chest hair.

  This is heaven, I think as her supple body joins mine under the hot spray of water. My cock is pressed between us, rock hard, but I’m in no hurry. I want to take my time with her now, soaking up every second I can.

  I feel her urgency, mostly in how nervous she still seems. She doesn’t know how to do this, but in a way, neither do I. I’ve never been with a woman that I cared about as much as this one. Cora is more than just any woman and this is more than lust. She is everything to me—I knew that the moment she walked in the door five years ago. The connection we felt that day has only grown since and it has all led to this moment.

  Turning her back under the spray, I take care with her body, washing her hair and loving the way her hair feels when it’s full of soapy suds. Then I lather up a washcloth and run it along every inch of her skin, marveling in how perfect every single dimple, freckle, and inch of her flesh is.

  I could do this all night, but it seems Cora has a different plan because as soon as her body is clean, her hand moves quickly to my still throbbing erection, grasping the length in her hand and stroking. I nearly choke, shuddering as I pull away.

  “Wait, wait, baby. Unless you want this next part to be over quickly, I would stop that.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  A laugh escapes my lips. “Don’t be sorry for touching my dick, Cora. I just want this to last a little longer and you already do things to me.”

  “I do?” she asks, biting her lip.

  That flirty little move has me groaning. When did she become so damn sexy? It’s not like Cora has changed, but it’s like I’m seeing her through new lenses. “Yes, baby,” I reply. “You wouldn’t believe the things you do to me.”

  She has a mischievous look on her face, and I see a hint of that wild girl I first met. “I like doing things to you,” she whispers. “I want to do things to you.”

  Tendrils of excitement run straight down my body and right to my cock. “Oh yeah?” I say. “Like what?”

  Her cheeks turn a brighter shade of pink, and she tries to look away, but I pull her closer.

  “Last night you put your mouth on me, and I kinda want to...you know.”

  Sweet Lord. She wants to suck my cock. I can hardly stand, shaken by the overwhelming heat of the shower and my arousal at the same time. I can’t even answer.

  “Can I?”

  I reply with a laugh. “I couldn’t say no if I tried.” A sweet smile spreads across her face, and I lean down to kiss her again. I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy in my life. The peace and confidence I’ve been looking for my entire life has finally been found in this. In her. In us.

  She looks so nervous as she slowly drops to her knees in front of me. I have my back to the showerhead, blocking her from the spray. When she takes my cock in her hand, I shudder again. She strokes it, slower this time.

  Then, with her eyes on me, as if she’s looking for reassurance, she opens her mouth and lets her tongue hang over her bottom lip and rests the head of my dick over the soft, wet surface.

  I watch, barely able to breathe as she plays with it. She kisses the head with her lips pursed. She runs her tongue along the underside, and then she swirls the head, making me see stars.

  Finally, she opens her mouth wide and takes me as deep as she can before she instantly lets out a gag and pulls back. I nearly come from that alone, and it’s not easy holding it in.

  “I don’t think I'm very good at this,” she says, looking discouraged.

  “Baby, you're perfect.”

  “I’ll get better with practice.” Then she takes me deep again, and I slap a hand against the tile wall to keep from falling over.

  “Fuck,” I groan loudly.

  “Was that good?” she asks, pulling my cock out of her mouth again.

  I shut my eyes and nod. “Yes, yes, yes.”

  So she does it again, and this time, she doesn’t withdraw right away, but keeps stroking, her tongue and lips so soft around my cock I can barely stop myself from coming down her throat. She’s not going very deep, but it doesn't matter; it’s enough to drive me crazy.

  I manage to hold on for as long as I can, but when she relaxes enough to take me to the back of her throat, I snap. In a rush, I pull out of her grasp. I have to take a second to breathe and she’s staring up at me with wide eyes.

  I have to be inside her—now.

  Snatching her by the shoulders, I pull her up to stand and spin her quickly so she’s facing the wall. She lets out a gasp of shock, but then my cock is lined up with exactly where it wants to go. I don’t have it in me to be gentle right now; this little cunt is mine and I need to take it before I lose my fucking mind.

  Using the saliva from her mou
th as lube, I shove myself forcefully inside her. Her scream is beautiful, but it makes me pause, feeling like a monster. I should pull out, but I can’t. I just can’t.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry—”

  “Don’t stop.” She gasps. “Fuck me, Roman.”

  I don’t hesitate. Grabbing her by the hips, I do as she requested, and I slam into her again and again, so deep my balls slap against her flesh with each thrust.

  If I go to hell for this, it will be worth it.

  Everything is perfect—her needy cries, the way her fingers claw against the tile wall, and her perfect round ass shaking with each thrust.

  “Yes!” she cries, and her body shudders with pleasure and her pussy walls tighten around me as I unload inside her.

  We are left in the echoes of what we just did. It wasn’t just sex or love making. It was filthy, dirty fucking. And I loved every second of it.

  After my balls are emptied and I can breathe again, I pull out and hold her against me. She spins until we are facing each other, and our mouths meet in a hungry crash.

  “I love you,” I mumble against her lips. “I love you so fucking much.”

  She makes a sound, and I don’t know if it’s a laugh or a cry, but she kisses me harder. “I love you, too.”

  Chapter 14

  Cora

  After our shower, and probably the hottest moment of my life, Roman and I clean up and get dressed. He puts on a plain white T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. Luckily, I brought my duffel bag when we left the convent in the flurry of action, so I have clean clothes with me.

  He pulls back the covers on his bed and we climb in together. I can hardly believe this is happening. I’m in Father Roman’s bed, in Father Roman’s apartment. Someone pinch me.

  Just then I notice the Christmas tree in his apartment. It’s not large, but perfect for his small space. There are gold and red round ornaments scattered around it and it’s draped with tinsel.

  “Your Christmas tree isn’t lit,” I say, noting the dark tree.

  “Oh,” he says, walking over and flipping the switch at the bottom. The dark room glows with soft light as he walks over to climb into bed next to me.

  “I love Christmas,” I mumble as he pulls me against his chest. I curl my body around him, overcome by the instant sensation of comfort and safety. I really shouldn’t have a care in the world while I’m wrapped in his arms, but I do. I have a gnawing discomfort in my belly.

  “Me too,” he replies, but there isn’t an ounce of worry in his tone. He is completely at ease. How can he be so carefree right now? With the consequences we have to face now, he should be anything but relaxed.

  “Roman,” I whisper, as I try to pull away from his hold. He doesn’t let me—instead, he holds me tighter. “We have to talk.”

  “No, we don’t. It’s Christmas. Let’s talk tomorrow.”

  “I need to get this off my chest,” I reply.

  With that, he releases me, and I perch myself up on one bent elbow. All of a sudden, the words get caught in my throat. How can I possibly say what I know I need to say right now? After the last few perfect hours with him, what kind of idiot would utter the words that could ruin it?

  “I meant what I said in the shower,” I say to start.

  “Me too,” he replies, leaning up to kiss me on the lips. It’s a quick kiss, but it’s the casualness of it that I love.

  “But you don’t owe me anything. If you...need to stay here, at the church, I under—”

  His hand clamps hard against my mouth, cutting my sentence off early. My eyes widen because this isn’t really like him. Father Roman is patient and gentle, but the way he’s looking at me now shows a man who is desperate and afraid.

  “Nod yes or no,” he says darkly, without removing his hand. “Is there even an inkling of a chance that you and I could have a future together? More of this, sex and companionship and whatever else you want? Is there even a speck of a chance?”

  Eagerly, I nod. “Yes, but—” I mumble against his hand.

  “Then it’s worth it.”

  “You’re giving up so much,” I cry, tears starting to spring in my eyes. “For me.”

  He releases my mouth and uses his hand to pull my face close to his, so I can smell the soap on his skin and the toothpaste on his breath. It’s magical, being so close to another person. I never once felt this close to God, and I know deep in my heart that this is what God would want, for us to experience the delicate intimacy Roman and I share.

  “Look what I am gaining,” he responds with the same amount of intensity. His eyes moisten as he gathers my body as close to his as he can. “Banish every doubt about yourself from your mind, Cora. The minute you walked through that door on Christmas Eve, you were mine. You’ve always been mine.”

  It’s those words that unhinge me. Whatever was holding me together is undone by this proclamation, and I shudder with a sob as I bury my face in his chest. I’ve been so alone for so long, and I prayed for this, to know love and family and belonging, and somehow, I knew even back then that I would find it here. I thought in some way this church would be my home, but it was really him. He is my home.

  Before I finish crying into his now wet T-shirt, he pulls my face up to his and kisses my lips, not caring that I am soaked with tears.

  “People will try to tell us that this is wrong, that we broke our vows and committed an unforgivable sin, but imagine how sad it would have been to live our lives without this. God is forgiving. If you think these consequences are bad, consider what they could have been? Living a long life of regret and loneliness. I can handle some angry priests.”

  A deep sigh softens the tension in mybody, and I begin to relax. “I have to move back in with my dad,” I reply.

  “Not a chance. I have money saved. I can afford something for you so you don’t have to go back there.”

  “I can’t let you do that,” I reply, using my pajama shirt to soak up the tears pooling around my eyes.

  “Yes, you can. I will keep you safe, Cora.” I wish I could articulate now just how safe I feel already, latched onto his body like a lifesaver. I’ve never known a life without fear or worry.

  “Where will you go?”

  Silence stretches between us for a moment as we gaze at each other in the dimly lit room. “That’s up to you,” he replies, after seeming to deliberate for a moment.

  “I don’t want to be without you. I hate being without you.” It’s an easy answer, and I don’t need to think about it for long. Are we moving too fast? Talking about moving in together when we’ve only really been dating for a day, but we are as unconventional as you can get.

  “I was hoping you would say that,” he replies. He presses his warm lips to mine again and one kiss turns into a hundred kisses until an hour goes by with nothing but making out like teenagers.

  Before we fall asleep, he settles between my legs and we have sex again, this time much quieter and slower than the shower. Then, somewhere past midnight, naked and sated, we drift off to sleep. Just before my dreams take me, he whispers against my cheek, “Merry Christmas.”

  I barely manage a reply before I’m asleep, and I don’t dream a single thing all night. Wrapped in comfort, there’s not anything my mind could conjure that could be better than this.

  Epilogue

  One year later

  She’s almost there. I can tell by the way her thighs flex around my ears and her back arches. Any moment now she’s going to start moaning her head off, but until then, she holds her breath and fights the climax she has no control escaping.

  “God, Roman, don’t stop,” she pants, clutching hard to the headboard as her hips fly upward.

  She doesn’t have to tell me not to stop. There’s no chance of that happening. I don’t find pleasure in denying her, and I’ve never once made her beg to come, although that idea does sound appealing. But it also sounds cruel, and I don’t have it in me to do anything that causes my girl discomfort.
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  Hence why I’m wearing her legs like earmuffs and blissfully buried in her warm sex, sucking on her clit like I’m trying to milk the orgasm straight out of her body—and it works. A moment later, she’s levitating, a guttural cry escaping her lips while her pussy pulses against my mouth.

  Fucking heaven.

  “Oh my God, fuck me,” she cries out as she comes down from her euphoric high.

  “I’m going to be late for work,” I reply, but even then I’m unbuckling my pants, anticipating the feeling of sinking into her wet heat.

  “They’ll forgive you.” Her legs hook around my hips and she pulls me into her body for the second time today. I miss Christmas break already, the two weeks I had off between the classes I’m teaching at the college, when Cora and I had nothing but time in the day for this. We both joked that hopefully the unencumbered fornicating time would maybe help to ease the constant craving for sex so we could start the new year like normal people and less like horny rabbits.

  It didn’t work. In fact, I think it had the opposite effect.

  It’s just the honeymoon phase, I tell myself, even though we’re not even married, yet. I haven’t asked her, and she hasn’t brought it up. We still talk about forever and kids someday and moving into a bigger house when I can manage a better paying position, but Cora is still so young and I’m afraid to see her taking any vows. I want her to feel free as long as she can, even if she promises she feels plenty free now.

  I have her legs draped over my right shoulder as I come, a sheen of sweat covering my face. And she looks blissfully satisfied as I hover over her to give her a kiss.

  “I wish I didn’t have to go.”

  She smiles up at me, running her fingers through the beard I’ve been growing since I was laicized. “Help others. Find God. Live in peace.” Ever since I told Cora about my mother’s dying wish for me, she’s taken it to heart. She repeats it to me every time I get frustrated in this new life or struggle to find my way as a regular man with a regular job. Cora is convinced that my mother meant for me to live this life, that God could be found in everyday moments like falling in love. She believes that I’m living in more peace now than I ever was as a priest, and I can’t argue with her there. Even when work or money stress me out, I find something peaceful about the normalness of it all. I wasn’t truly living when I was a priest, I was simply devoting my life to it. I don’t regret my time with the clergy, but I’m actually living now, and I know this would have made her happy.