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I lead her into the church, and she looks at me quizzically when I tell the men to wait outside. I take her to the front, where I light a candle for Lara. I don’t believe in God—if he was real, she’d still be here now. But it’s a habit I can’t seem to break.
The church is empty, and I lead Grace towards the confessional booth. She frowns when I pull open the door and bustle her inside. “Ivan,” she hisses, “what are you doing?”
I sit in the chair and pull her to sit on my lap. “Confess,” I whisper in her ear while pushing her dress up to her hips. She fights me, trying to push it back down, but my hand is already in her underwear, rubbing her wetness over her swollen clit.
“Please,” she murmurs, “not here.” But her actions don’t match her words, and I push my finger into her, causing a gasp to escape while she rocks against me.
I release my erection and move her underwear to one side. “You’re going to fuck me, Grace, and you need to be quiet.”
“Not here,” she pants as I pull her against me. I slip inside easily, and she moans.
“Move, Grace,” I tell her, watching our connection as she lifts her backside.
“When the vicar comes, you need to confess,” I whisper, moving my hands to cup her breasts.
“Vicar?” she repeats, sounding panicked.
We hear footsteps, and I clamp my hand over her mouth. “Keep moving or I’ll put a bullet in him,” I whisper.
“You can’t kill a vicar,” she hisses against my hand.
I pinch her nipple, and she yelps. “Try me.”
The door to the connecting booth opens and closes. “Good morning, how are you?” asks the vicar.
She glances back at me, her expression desperate. I grin, nodding at her to speak. “Good,” she murmurs. I take her hips and lift her from me, guiding her back down slowly.
“And why have you come to confession today?” he asks.
“I’m not sure,” she says, digging her nails into my hands as I force her to ride me.
“Is this your first confession?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Let’s start by telling me what you need forgiveness for.”
“I cheated,” she says. I clamp my hand over her mouth and use my other hand to rub circles on her clit. She moves faster.
“On your marriage?”
I remove my hand. “I wasn’t married. We lived together. I slept with his best friend.” She shudders. “Jesus,” she cries. “Shit, sorry. Oh god.” She clamps her own hand over her mouth, and I feel my cock swell. I push her from me and grab her hair, forcing her to her knees.
The vicar chuckles. “Take your time, dear. I’m here to listen and help you to heal.”
I fill her mouth with my cock, exploding down the back of her throat and holding her there until I feel her pulling back, then I release her. “Sorry,” she pants. “I’m sorry for everything.” She gets to her feet and straightens her dress. “Please, forgive me,” she says as she rushes out the booth. I snigger, tucking myself away.
“You owe me,” says Alek.
I laugh. “I do,” I admit, because that was hot.
I find Grace outside with my men. I wrap my arm around her waist, and she buries her face into my chest. “I cursed at the vicar.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I’ll go to hell.”
I grin. “I’ll see you there, sladost.”
