by Alexis Angel
"Argh," I sigh, rubbing my eyes with my fingers before I dive into my books again. Damn, I’m so tired!
I’ve spent the whole day in the family library, and I’ve gone through so many books that I’ve already lost count. Since my father decided to move our focus into shipping, I’ve been trying to learn more about it. After all, if I want a shot at defeating Earl, I have to be prepared.
But it isn’t easy; changing our business focus means that I have to study a whole new industry from the ground up. To make matters worse, I have my brother breathing down my neck all the time, which kinda makes me feel as if I’m on a race against the clock. Not to mention the fact that Connor’s on my mind all the time… Those two times we were together really messed me up and, even though a quarter of a year has passed, I still can’t stop obsessing about him.
"Look at her… from party-girl to bookworm."
I turn around on my seat and there he is, leaning against the library doorway with a flask in his right hand. His hair is slightly disheveled, and the tie around his neck has been loosened. It seems that my lovely brother got an early start today.
"Go get drunk somewhere else, Earl," I tell him offhandedly, returning my attention to the book I’m reading. I try to focus on the words in front of me, but it’s hard to do that when Earl’s strong whisky breath seems to be gripping me by the throat.
"Why? It’s not like you’re doing anything important. You’re wasting your time, you know?" he continues, taking the flask to his lips and drinking heartily.
"Seriously, Earl. Get the fuck out of my sight or --"
"Or what? You’ll slap me again?"
"No, this time I’ll rip your head off, and then I’ll play soccer with it," I hiss and, even though my words seem kind of an exaggeration, I really mean them. There’s a beautiful sword hanging over my father’s office door, and the blade looks very sharp… Ah, Earl’s definitely lucky I’m not some kind of murderous psychopath, or else I’d be putting that sword to good use.
"Oh, I’m so scared," he laughs, throwing his hands up in the air in a mocking gesture. "Pfft … seriously, Clarise, do you really think dad’s going to go forward with this shipping nonsense?"
"What are you talking about? You were there at the meeting, three months ago, and I believe dad told you how things would play out. Besides, Connor sided with him, so I don’t see how you’ll stop dad from moving into shipping."
"Oh, Connor sided with dad… So fucking what? Am I supposed to be pissing my pants because that fake priest is messing with dad’s head?" Scoffing again, he runs one hand through his hair and gives me one of his gruesome grins. Then, he lifts the flask up again, but then lowers it as he realizes that it’s empty.
"They’re going to announce it at the next board meeting. So, unless you plan to murder someone in the family, there’s nothing you can do," I say, already losing my patience. Why the hell is he jabbing at me like this? Does he know something that I don’t?
"Don’t be so sure ‘bout that, little ‘sis," he whispers, taking a few strides toward me. Looking down, he then leans in, the alcohol on his breath making me wince. "I don’t like to lose, you know? And I sure as hell won’t lose to Connor."
"Get the fuck out of my face," I growl, placing my hands on his chest and giving him one hard push. He stumbles back awkwardly and, for a moment, I almost think he’s going to fall down; instead, he reaches for the doorway and manages to remain standing up.
That grin remains on his face, though, and that’s what worries me the most. What does he have on Connor to feel so smug? What kind of game is Earl playing right now? I have no idea, but one thing’s for sure, I must talk with Connor right away.
"Where are you going? Meeting your boyfriend?" Earl shouts after me as I hurry past him, bumping my shoulder against his. "TELL HIM I SEND MY REGARDS!" he shouts louder again, and his voice echoes through the empty hallway as I hurry down the stairway.
"Have you seen Connor?" I ask one of the drivers outside, standing next to the limo as he smokes a cigarette. As he sees me get out of the house, he throws the cigarette onto the ground and crushes it under his foot.
"No, ma’am. I haven’t seen him all day," he responds, taking his hat off and clutching it to his chest. "Have you tried the chapel? I’ve seen him around there a lot lately."
"The chapel…" I whisper to myself, turning my head toward the building flanking Connor’s guest house. His car is parked in front of the house, so he should be around. "Thank you," I tell the driver with a quick nod, and then I start making my way down the cobbled road that leads to both the guest house and the chapel, my heels clicking anxiously against the ground.
Just to make sure, I stop in front of his house and knock, rapping my knuckles against the frame of the door. "Connor!" I call, but silence is my only response. "Crap!" I mutter, and then hurry down to the chapel.
The two double doors are closed, but as I reach for the handle and turn, one of them swings back. The shadows loom large inside the chapel, and that familiar silence wraps itself around me like a long lost friend. Careful to not disturb that silence, I start walking down the small aisle, looking from one side to the other in the hopes of seeing Connor.
But, no, he doesn’t seem to be anywhere.
And that’s when I see him; he’s kneeling just to the side of the altar, inside the large confessionary that was set up there. He’s whispering so softly that I can’t make out his words, but it seems like he’s confessing his sins. Which is kinda weird, we don’t have a ‘round-the-clock pastor, so who the hell is he confessing to?
He has his back turned to me, and it seems like he didn’t hear me walk in. As such, I walk silently toward him, and then I stop as I realize that he’s completely alone. There’s no one on the other side of the confessionary…
He’s confessing to himself. We’re alone in the chapel, again.
Well, you know what?
It’s been too long since I last confessed my sins. Maybe it’s time I fix that.
Connor
"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned…" I whisper, but the only answer I get is the echo of my own words. "I screwed up… I really did," I continue to whisper, closing my eyes and laying my forehead over my folded hands. I’m kneeling inside the confessionary and, even though there’s no one in here with me, it still feels good to let it all out.
I believe in confession; I think it does a man good to air out his sins and let some sunshine into his soul. But I never believed in confessing to another man; my sins are between me and God, and I don’t like to share them with a third party. Despite what some people might say, I don’t think that when it comes to your relationship with God, you need a middleman.
And that’s exactly why I’m alone right now.
That’s also what I need—to be alone. Ever since I got here I’ve been making mistake after mistake. How could I have let things progress to such a state? I’ve fucked Clarise in a chapel and in a church. How can I even call myself a man of God? I’ve crossed a line and, more than anything else, I’m disappointed with myself.
This is why I’m confessing; I’ve spent three months repressing all these feelings, but I just can’t do it anymore. No, these feelings are gripping my heart so tightly that I can’t even think straight. I had to let it all out, even if the only way to do it was to confess to an empty wall.
I thought I was stronger… I thought I was the kind of man to whom temptation meant nothing. But, of course, I had never met a woman like Clarise. How was I even supposed to resist her advances? I might be a spiritual guy, but I sure as hell am not holy.
To make matters worse, I know that all I need to do is look into Clarise’s eyes for her to come after me. And, from there, it’s only a matter of time until I pin her against the wall and rip the clothes off her body. Her delicious, sweet, body. Everything in her seems to have been designed by God’s hand itself—her perky breasts, her rosy nipples, the delicious mound between her thighs… Just thinking of that is enough
to make me rock hard.
Jesus, I’m so lost that I --
I stop thinking when I see a shadow moving on the other side of the confessionary. There’s a wooden panel separating the confessee from the confessor, and so I can’t see who has just sat down on the other side; all is can see is … her shadow.
"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned," I hear Clarise’s voice coming from the other side, and my heart jumps inside my chest so hard that I can almost feel it beating in my throat.
"Clarise, what are you doing?" I hiss, raising my head and looking straight at the panel separating us.
"What does it look like? Confessing my sins, of course," she whispers, and the sweet sound of her voice makes me run my tongue between my lips with anticipation.
"I’m not a priest, Clarise, I can’t --"
"You don’t need to be a priest. God will forgive me, or not. All I want is for someone to hear my confession," she continues and, even though I know it must be a trap, I simply can’t make my body respond to the frightened commands of my brain. As such, I keep my knees on the padded support underneath me, swallowing hard as I feel a feverish warmness taking over my body.
"Confess then," I find myself saying, straining to get the words out.
"I’ve met a man…" she starts, her words coming out more like a purr than a whisper. "And I’ve sinned with that man. I’ve offered him my body and he took it…"
"You shouldn’t have done it," I tell her, my voice sounding foreign to my own ears. I’m not sure what kind of game we’re playing right now, but one thing I know: it’s not going to end well.
"But I wanted to… My mind wanted it, my body wanted it. And, even though he said he didn’t want it, he did." Even though I can’t see her face right now, I can tell that there’s a grin on her face. She’s enjoying this. She knows that she’s teasing me, and she’s enjoying every single second of it.
"How did you know he wanted it?"
"Because… A man might be able to lie with his mouth, but he can’t lie with his cock." The word cock feels so out of place in the chapel that I almost wince at the sound of it; but, at the same time, I feel warm blood rushing down between my thighs, making my cock twitch inside my boxer briefs.
"And that cock…" she continues, "oh, I’ve sinned in all manners with it. I’ve had it in my mouth, I’ve had it in my pussy… and every time I did it, I felt more alive than I've ever felt. I can’t think of anything else, Father. I dream of it every night, and I ache for that man to be by my side when I wake up."
My cock has already graduated from twitching, now it’s hardening with each and every word that comes out of Clarise’s mouth. It strains hard against my pants and, if she doesn’t shut up real quick, it might rip its way out.
"You should try to let go of all that," I tell her, but deep down I don’t want her to listen to me. No, I want her to keep chasing and lusting after me… And I want to think of her waking up in her bed, her pussy so wet that her panties stick to her body.
"What if I can’t let go?" she asks me and by now my cock is already as hard as concrete. I can’t even think straight.
Clarise’s right; a man might lie with his words, but he can’t do it with his cock. And, right now, my cock is being as truthful as it has ever been.
"If you can’t let go … you’ll have to pay your penance."
Clarise
"And what’s my penance going to be?" I ask him through the wooden panel, and I can almost feel him grin.
"Why don’t you come here and find out?" he whispers and, before I even know what I’m doing, I’ve already gone up to my feet. Feeling dizzy and out of myself, I let my feet carry me to the other side of the confessionary.
Connor’s already standing up when I get there, and he moves so fast that all I see is a blur. Grabbing me hard, he then pushes me and presses me back against the wall. Grabbing my arms, he forces me to raise them over my head and pins them there; leaning into me, he crushes his mouth against mine, kissing me in sweet abandonment.
"You’ll be my fucking ruin," he breathes out, slowly pulling his lips out from mine.
"Only if you let me be yours," I shoot right back at him, desire welling up inside my chest and making my heart beat anxiously.
Gritting his teeth while he looks into my eyes, he finally lets go of my arms and takes one step back. "Take off your dress," he tells me firmly, the commanding tone of his voice sending a shiver up my spine.
"Is this my penance…? To obey? To be used?" I tease him, but he doesn’t even crack a smile.
"Do what I tell you to," he commands me, and I have no other option but to do it. Obediently, I take my fingers to my shoulders and start pulling down the straps of my dress, letting them slide down my arms. I keep on tugging at my dress until it’s all bunched up around my waist, and then I sway my hips from side to side, allowing the fabric to slide down my arms and pool around my ankles.
Wearing only my black lace bra and thong, I suddenly feel vulnerable and exposed. But maybe that’s because he isn’t the only one looking at me right now; we’re in God’s home, and that means there’s no privacy from holy eyes inside these walls. And, Jesus, that just makes me feel so fucking dirty.
"Turn around," Connor continues, and my body responds almost immediately. I turn on my heels, my back turned to him; one second later, I feel his fingers on me and I wince. His fingers are cold but, at the same time, they seem to spread a vicious heat all over my skin.
Reaching for the strap of my bra, he releases it carefully, pushing the straps down my arms and allowing it to fall down to the floor. I bite on my lower lip then, feeling the cold air of the chapel caressing my hard nipples.
"Your thong… Take it off."
Once more, my body starts obeying his command, but this time he doesn’t let me go through with it.
"No. Stop. I’ll do it myself," Connor tells me sharply, his words feeling like a whip. His hands move down the side of my body, and he rests them on my waist; reacting by instinct, I place both my hands on the wall in front of me, and that’s when Connor goes down to his knees.
Hooking his fingers on my thong, he starts pulling it down my legs, and my skin prickles as I feel the wet fabric leaving my skin. Lifting one foot after the other, I fling the thong to a corner of the confessionary and then close my eyes. The moment I do that, Connor attacks me savagely, an unbridled hunger dominating every single movement of his.
He has his hands on my ass cheeks and, reacting unconsciously, I jut my ass back at him. Diving mouth-first into me, he presses his lips against my wet folds, sucking them into his mouth while he runs the tip of his tongue up and down their length. He does it hard enough for moans to start tumbling out of my lips, the ferocity of his mouth on my pussy driving me completely insane.
Seriously, could he be any more perfect? Not only does he know how to fuck like a God, he also seems to know how to eat out a woman in an almost supernatural way.
Grabbing me by the waist again, he forces me to turn around; I do it willingly, press my back against the wall, and I raise one leg by instinct and place it over his left shoulder. He dives into me once again, tilting his head sideways and taking my inner lips into his mouth, scooping up my creamy fluids with his tongue.
"You’re the most delicious thing in the universe," he tells me suddenly, pulling his head back from my pussy and looking up at me. I smile at him as a reply, my heart beating fast as I notice his chin glistening from my fluids.
"Then keep going," I whisper, and I don’t need to tell him a word more. He crushes his mouth against my pussy almost too violently, and I succumb to the punishment his lips and tongue are unleashing upon my body. To make everything so much better, he presses one forearm over my waist and lets his fingers fall down to my clit; pressing down on it, he starts stroking while he sucks and licks.
"Oh, God," I moan, my quivering voice exploding in the silence of the deserted chapel like thunder. Arching my back, I rest my hands on his head and tangle my finge
rs in his hair; I start yanking on it, harder with each passing second, and the next thing I know I’m dangling over a cliff of pleasure.
And do you know what’s the right thing to do when you’re that close to pleasure’s cliff? You close your eyes and you jump. And that’s exactly what I do.
"OH GOD!" I scream at the top of my lungs, an electrical storm raging inside my skull and electrifying every single thought floating inside my head. I don’t even know how much time I spend screaming; all I know is that by the time the orgasm washes over me, my throat is so sore that, instead of moaning, all I can do is croak feebly.
"You liked that?" he asks me softly, pulling back from me and taking my leg off of his shoulder.
"Liked it?" I pant. "I loved it!"
With that, I offer him one wicked grin and bend over; grabbing him by his shirt, I pull him up to his feet and crush my mouth against his before he can react. Our tongues fight one another for an eternity and, as we kiss, I let my hands fall down from his chest to his belt. Unbuckling it as fast as I can, the metallic jingle of the buckle echoing throughout the empty chapel, I then push on his zipper and send his pants down to his ankles.
"On your knees. It’s time for you to pay for your sins," he tells me sternly, even though there’s a delicious grin on his lips. Pulling back from him, I then fall down to my knees. He kicks off his shoes fast, stepping out of his pants equality fast, and then he starts to work on his shirt. The moment he pushes his shirt down his arms, revealing his ripped abs, I just lose it and reach for his boxer briefs. I tug them down hard, forcing his cock to spring free, and then I have to hold my breath for a second as I marvel at the sight of his naked body. It doesn’t seem to matter how many times I see him naked; it’s always amazing.
Biting on my lower lip, I flatten the palm of my hand over his hard cock, my heart beating so fast I feel lightheaded. God, I need him in my mouth right now.
