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Sinner is inscribed in the shape of a smile on his upper chest, in ornate script with a crucifix centered on his sternum as his hands come to my knees and he lowers himself in front of me.
“But you,youare the altar upon which I will break my vows. Crush my commitment to God. To the Church. Replace them with my vows and commitment to you, my Kitten. Now, close your eyes, and pray with me…”
“Our father…” I begin, imagining his voice, low and dark, vibrating with mine as we say the words together, my brains turning to scrambled eggs. “Who art in heaven…hallowed—”
Fuck.
My fantasy spins with his tongue lapping at my clit, his prayer muffled by the ministrations of his mouth on my sex. Giving, offering, taking, commanding…
“Finish the prayer, my child.”
“Be.” Oh my God.
“Thy.” Yes, yes, please, there, right there.
“Name.” I scream, this is it. It’s happening, it’s a miracle right here at Saint Margaret’s home for wayward girls…
My body takes flight. Fingers and water and moans and calls for my Father.
Not the one in heaven.
Myfather.
Father Martin.
Who, without his knowledge or consent, just delivered me from evil.
Or, delivered me into its hands.
CHAPTER 7
Martin
When I return to my room after taking two of my parishioner’s confessions this morning, I brace my arms on my desk, battling the urges that have rooted inside me. The control I’ve exercised over my demons and my physical urges is cracking.
I’ve never failed a test. Academic, spiritual or otherwise.
I am, if nothing else, stubborn and tenacious to my own detriment.
Those qualities have no power here. No power against the sweet, dimple-cheeked sin that’s upended my life.
Kitty.
She fell asleep on my shoulder last night, watching that damn Chocolat movie. I refused to get up and change the DVD anddisturb her. Listening to her soft breathing, the way her hand moved in her sleep to rest on top of my pulsing cock, no fucking way was I ending that sooner than necessary.
I prayed while I imagined the soft heat of her body curling under me as I gave myself to her and took what’s mine, binding us forever. My back was in spasm from not moving for almost three hours, my shoulders knotted, when she finally blinked herself awake, looking around then up at me with those meadow green eyes that have me questioning every vow I’ve made to the church and God.
“What time is it?” she asked, tugging her hand from my lap as I salivated for a taste of her. The TV flickered in the darkness of the common room where we sat on the sofa, ate pizza and drank grape soda. She said that’s her favorite, so I paid my driver extra to find it for her, bring it back with the pizza, then disappear for the rest of the night.
“It’s late,” I managed, praying for strength.
“Did you like the movie?” She sat up, pushing her hair from her face, tugging her fuzzy sweater down over her exposed belly, then rubbing her eyes on a yawn.
“The first time, yeah. The second, it was okay, but it’s on its third time through and I think I’m over it.”
“You watched it three times? I’ve seen it twenty-six times. It’s the best isn’t it?”
Her childlike enthusiasm made my heart swell. “Yes, baby, it’s the best.”
