Page 54 of Sinfully His

“Yes, Father,” I said. As the orgasm wore off and my head cleared, the horror of what I had just done, what we had just done, sank in.

My cheeks burned with humiliation, and my eyes flooded with tears as he took the candle and forced it into my now gaping asshole. Filling me with shame.

He pulled my panties back up, securing everything in place without cleaning me up at all. I felt dirty. I was dirty. When he told me to stand and turned me around, he wiped the tears from my cheeks and kissed me.

“Now, be a good girl. Go sit where I can see you,” he said as he guided us both out of the small closet.

CHAPTER 22

THOMAS

As we left the storage closet, not a single person said a word. No one even noticed us.

No one except for one priest, who was looking for me.

He came up to me, concern in his eyes.

“What was that about? Why were you in that room with that girl?”

“Miss Astrid was having a moment of doubt. With the stress of her mother’s current issues, she just needed someone to confide in for a moment. She didn’t feel comfortable being in a confessional doing it, so I gave her a quick moment to let her air her grievances, and then bring her back to the light,” I said, smiling, amused by my little double play there.

“Of course,” the other father said, satisfied with my answer. “Would you mind leading the mass today? I’m afraid I’m not feeling that well.”

He was fine. Only hungover from the communion wine he had snuck out the night before. I did not know why he felt the need to sneak and hide his drinking. We were Catholic, for Christ’s sake. He could have just gone down to the pub and there wouldn’t have been a single problem with it.

“I would be honored,” I answered. “I think I have the perfect topic for today’s sermon.”

The other priest nodded and then went to the back of the room, to the staircase that led to the choir loft. There were benches behind the choir, and as the choir sang, the acoustics of the room drew the sound down around the congregation. No doubt he was going up there to lie down and hopefully sleep it off.

Fucking lightweight.

I proceeded to the altar as the organist signaled to everyone that it was time to start.

Mary Quinn Astrid was sitting between her husband and her daughter up front, as if she had nothing to hide. Stubbornly sticking to the idea that she had lost no standing in the community. Never mind that there was at least a three-person width around them in every direction that was completely empty. Completely empty in a packed church. There were even several congregation members who stood at the sides or at the very back instead of sitting near them.

Perfect.

This made it so much easier for me to watch my angel squirm. I took a sermon out of my breast pocket; it was one of a few I always carried with me to mass in case I was asked to lead. This wasn’t the first time I had to fill in at the last minute, but this was the first I was so damn happy about it.

I raised my voice, making sure it carried to the very back of the room.

“The Temptation of the Flesh.”

Immediately, my eyes returned to Rose. Her eyes were wide, and her cheeks burned. She tilted her head forward, using her long hair to shield her face from anyone else, but I could still see her just fine.

“Beloved congregation, today we gather to discuss a topic that weighs heavily on the soul and tests the very fabric of our faith: the temptation of the flesh.”

In seminary school, we were often taught that certain women can form an attraction to religious leaders. It wasn’t their fault. It was completely natural. Many women felt that we were talking directly to them if we stared out into the crowd. They got it into their heads that we were looking at them, that we were making eye contact. More often than not, our eyes were completely glazed over, and we were just repeating the sermon for the fiftieth time.

The best way to prevent this from happening was to use bouncing eyes. This meant that we never looked in the same direction for more than a sentence or two. I could stare at the far left for a couple of moments, then somewhere in the middle, then somewhere up front, then back over to the right.

If my eyes were constantly moving, then no one would think that I was making eye contact. But this time I couldn’t help looking straight back to my little angel.

Thankfully, since she was sitting next to her mother, the entire congregation assumed that I was speaking to Mary Quinn about her dalliances outside of her marriage.

Just another nail in her coffin.

“Our Lord has given us commandments to guide us, yet the human heart can be swayed by whispers of temptation. We maylickat the edge of sin, tantalized by the promise ofsatisfaction. But let us not forget that these fleeting pleasures often come at a price. We must resist the allure oforgasmic ecstasythat tempts us to surrender to earthly desires, for such indulgences can lead us down a path of moral decay.”

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