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There was brutality in his love. Every thrust reminded me of it.
He released the end of the belt, forcing me up, and flush to him while his teeth found the curve of my neck.
He bit me over and over, adorning my body with marks while he lavishly fucked me. Digging deeper with his hips, the incessant grind pushing me over the edge. Driven to orgasm without warning. My entire body convulsing with the intensity of it.
His smirk pressed into the back of my neck. Filthy satisfaction while I clenched around him. Painting the holy cloth with my seed. Defiling this place, and I would do it again. I would do anything he asked of me. Anything he wanted.
“It was worth the wait. You were worth the wait.”
6
RESURRECTION
He’d taken me half a dozen more times. Leaving marks on every surface of my skin. I was art, recreated in my younger image. His art. We sat long after he’d come for the last time with the sun barely cresting the horizon, warming the stained glass with a faint glow. The promise of another bright day. He caressed my skin with physical affection, tracing the outlines of his marks.
I’d dozed in and out, but he’d remained, letting me come down in softness. The monster long sated and the boy I’d fallen in love with in third grade returned to me. He wasn’t Father Anthony. He was Conner, even if he rejected the name. My soul tied to his, no matter the names the other called us. Our connection never broken. Would never break.
Even if he asked me never to return, I was sure of it.
“How do we go on?” There was no happily ever after in this. I couldn’t see it.
“Neither of us can forsake our gods, little lamb. You can’t leave your service any easier than I can leave mine.”
“No.” The only way they’d let me retire was in a box. I knew too much.
“So, why would we have to change anything?”
“What if I want to see you more?” I asked, pressing my face into his neck, needing all the reassurance.
“Is anyone stopping you from driving up here to your heart’s content?” Anthony asked.
“Can you get away that much?”
“I have duties I must preform but aside from those, my time is my own. I make the schedule for the parish. I can adjust as need be.” He pressed his lips to my forehead.
“Can I stay the night?” I asked, probing the boundaries of our arrangement.
“If your heart desires.”
“Would you like me to?” I don’t know how I’d suddenly returned to the unsure teenager.
“I’ll cherish any time you grace me with. I’ve missed you.” It was the truth. His eyes confirmed. “Are you still concerned?” he asked when I didn’t say anything.
“I don’t know.”
“What is troubling you?”
“What about your vows? Will you grow to regret this and me?” Did he even have a conscience?
“No.” He laughed. “My vows haven’t changed. I broke one, but the rest stand. I serve God. I don’t think he begrudges my transgressions or anyone else’s. We are all sinners.”
“I thought you said part of confession was the expectation of correction of behavior.”
“I can’t confess this.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“I’m not sorry. So either my other good deeds will outweigh my bad or I’ll spend eternity in damnation.”
