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“Please.” I dug my fingers into his shoulders as he squeezed himself inside me.

It was tight. He was big, and I was incredibly full. But it felt… good. So fucking good. His face collapsed against my chest as he let out an agonized sigh.

“Gypsy,” he whispered.

I stroked his hair, and at that moment, I was the one comforting him. It was like we had crossed some invisible barrier for him, and he knew he couldn’t come back from it. Whatever it was, he was mourning it, and I gave him time to accept that this was really happening. He was inside me. We had crossed a line we both swore we wouldn’t.

He rocked his hips up into me, making me gasp. “This is going to be quick,” he said. “I just have to fuck you. I’m sorry.”

I didn’t know what that meant until he grabbed my hips and pulled me against his body, burying his cock deep inside. I couldn’t move at all, and I didn’t need to, because the momentum of his thrusts guided me. Synchronicity found us easily, and I got lost in the feeling of being connected to him in this way. The catch of his breath, the beating of his heart against my chest. His eyes were heavy, his head falling back in pure, strung-out bliss… because of me.

He worshipped me with his lips, ghosting my skin with kisses that sometimes turned rough between breaths. He drank from my mouth, sucked at my breasts, and whispered the things I needed to hear.

“You make me crazy.” His fingers wrapped in my hair, and my head fell back. “You have no idea how long I’ve needed this.”

I drank in the sight of him this way, and it was the most intimate thing I’d ever done. We weren’t just connected, we couldn’t take our eyes off each other. We kissed. He played with my clit and told me to come. I was so close, but I was anxious.

“Look at her.” Lucian turned my face to see the girl; her eyes lasered in on his cock thrusting in and out of me. “Tell her how good it feels. Tell her that this pussy is the only one for me.”

“He’s mine,” I snarled again, and the ferocity of the statement surprised me.

It also sent Lucian over the edge. He grabbed both of my hips and pulled my body down on top of his cock, completely burying himself inside me as he groaned out his release.

Some of his come started to leak out of me, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he smeared it over my clit and used it to stimulate me while he was softening inside me. It brought me back from the dead, nerve endings flaring to life that I didn’t even know existed. It was scary and intense, but I stroked his hair and relaxed into his body, letting myself just feel for the first time.

It felt good. It felt right.

And when I came around him, it felt a little bit like I had cleansed myself of the filth I’d always believed I was.

“FATHER.”

“Lucian?” Cristian cleared his throat from the other side of the confessional. “What brings you here today?”

The words didn’t come easily. I hung my head and tried to feel even a scrap of the solace I’d once found in this booth, but it wasn’t there anymore. Overnight, I had gone back to old addictions. Sweeter addictions. The kind of addictions that could ruin me if I didn’t get them under control.

“I think I’ve regressed,” I said.

Cristian waited for me to explain, but it wasn’t so easy this time.

“Tell me,” he encouraged.

“I consummated my marriage.”

More time went by, and I knew Cristian was struggling with what he should tell me. In the eyes of God and the Catholic church, we were married, so there wasn’t a problem. But it wasn’t that simple for him. He wouldn’t paint my actions in a favorable light just to spare my feelings, even if he didn’t know the worst of them yet.

During all the years I’d come here to confess, I’d never exposed the challenges I faced with intimacy. It didn’t seem right, considering he was a man tormented by his own constant battle to remain untouched.

“Was it consensual?” Cristian asked.

“Yes.” I turned toward the grate. “I would never take her against her will.”

But the words I spoke so decidedly didn’t ring true to myself. I had already crossed so many lines with her. I tied her up. I poked at her raw wounds. I’d allowed her to feel insecure in my devotion to her because I was too afraid to show it myself. Already, I felt like a failure, and last night only compounded the situation.

When I took her to that club, there was no coming back from it. I exposed her to a world that she didn’t need to see, and I forced her into a corner where her jealousy was the only catalyst upon which she could act.

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