The chapel was no longer sacred. It was theirs.
He pressed her back against the carved wood of the confessional, his robes falling open as her fingers clawed at him. She felt the heat of his body, the strength coiled beneath the fabric, and she trembled but not with fear, with hunger.
“On your knees,” he commanded. The words weren’t shouted, but they cut through her like a blade.
Her body obeyed before her mind caught up. She slid down, the stone floor biting her knees . She looked up at him, lips parted, the candlelight painting her face in gold and shadow.
His robes fell away, and the reality of him filled her vision. Hard, thick, and already swollen with need. She swallowed, desire and nerves twisting inside her.
“Confess with your mouth,” he growled.
Her lips closed around him, slow at first, reverent, then greedy as his hand guided her deeper. She gagged softly, but he held her there, savoring her submission, her tongue stroking along him, and her moans vibrating against his length.
“Good,” he hissed, thrusting into her mouth, watching her eyes water as she took him further. “You were made for this.”
When he pulled her up, her lips were wet, swollen, breath ragged. He kissed her hard, tasting himself on her tongue, before spinning her against the wooden door.
“Bend,” he ordered, pushing her forward.
Her hands braced on the booth as he yanked her habit up, baring her. The cool air kissed her thighs before his hand slapped her, sharp and claiming. She gasped, but it melted into a moan as his fingers spread her open, stroking her already slick heat.
“You ache for me,” he whispered against her ear. “You begged the darkness for this.”
“I did,” she panted, desperate. “I need you.”
He shoved into her in one fierce stroke, her cry echoing through the chapel. The wood creaked as he drove into her, hips slamming, every thrust claiming her body deeper. She clutched the frame of the confessional door, nails digging, as his pace grew brutal and relentless.
Her cries turned to screams of his name that were twisted with pleas. His hand wrapped around her throat, pulling her back against his chest as he pounded into her. She felt caged, consumed. Her body nothing but fire and need.
“I’ll ruin you,” he groaned, his teeth scraping her shoulder. “You’re mine. Say it.”
“I’m yours,” she gasped, over and over, until her voice broke.
His hand slid between her thighs, fingers finding her swollen clit, rubbing mercilessly. The world went black at the edges as the pressure tore through her, her orgasm ripping her apart in a scream. Her body clenched around him, dragging his release from him with a snarl.
He spilled into her, claiming her fully, his grip bruising, and his breath hot on her neck. They collapsed against the booth, bodies trembling, the candles at the altar sputtering low.
And in that shadow-drenched silence, she knew she was no longer just his initiate. She was bound to him by flesh, by sin, and by ecstasy that only he could give her.
Her body still quivered against the wood, her breath uneven, and her thighs slick with his claim. The candles burned low as shadows crawled across the chapel walls like silent witnesses.
He didn’t let her go. His hand was still at her throat, his thumb tracing her racing pulse, reminding her who had taken her apart.
“You feel it now,” he whispered, his voice like velvet over iron. “The mark of me inside you. You’ll never forget it.”
She shuddered, eyes closing, lips parted in a soft whimper. “I’m yours.”
“Not just your body,” he said, teeth grazing her ear. His hips rolled slow, grinding his length inside her one last time, wringing another tremor from her raw, sensitive flesh. “Your soul. Your thoughts. Every secret you tried to keep. I’ll drag them from you, taste them, devour them.”
His hand slid down, pressing over her womb, firm, possessive. “You belong to me here,” he growled. Then his palm covered her breast, squeezing until she moaned. “And here. Every piece of you.”
She melted into his hold, her submission complete, her voice little more than a breath. “Take it. Take all of me.”
His mouth curved in a dark smile against her neck. “I will. Again. And again. Until there’s nothing left you can call your own.”
He kissed her neck, slow and bruising, his teeth leaving a mark. “You’ll walk through these halls aching, every step reminding you that you’re mine. And when the others look at you, they’ll know, without a word, that you’ve been consumed by me.”
Her knees trembled, but his arms caught her, cradling and caging at once. She realized she no longer wanted freedom. She wanted the hunger in his eyes, the claim in his touch.
And he promised, with every dark caress, to devour her until there was no separation. Only him, and her, bound in sin and shadow.
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