Page 44 of Daddy's Sinner

My girl is sated as she sits on my now-soft cock. I’m not in a hurry to remove her weight off me, and honestly, I enjoy the view. Except when my eyes focus on the small scars on her back. Scars that remind me of my own. The only difference is that mine are self-inflicted and hers aren’t. I’ll kill them all.

“I have to go,” she murmurs as she stands, letting the dress fall to the ground, and walks over to the flowing water. I watch her perfect peach ass swaying with each step until she dips her beautiful body into the water. She re-emerges, her hair clinging to her small waist, her tits perky and covered by her dark coils.

I watch her in silence, completely mesmerized. Slowly, I stand, removing the rest of my clothes and join her. She doesn’t face me as I come behind her and wrap my arms around her. She turns, her fingers moving to my chest as she traces the “S” from the Sinner tattoo.

Her touch is electric, sending a shiver down my spine. It’s cold in the water, but my skin is on fire wherever she touches. I look down at her, her dark eyes shining with an equal measure of curiosity and desire. She draws her hand up over the letters, each one reverberating through me like a note struck on a tuning fork. Once she reaches the last letter, the final “r,” and I tense, my skin prickling with anticipation.

“So many tattoos for a priest,” she murmurs, a hint of amusement playing on her kissable lips. Her nimble fingers trace the other tattoos on my body—the cross, the dove, the Latin scripture. Each one was a milestone in my journey from sinner to saint, then back to sinner. She stops at the crucifix etched on my abs. “Are you allowed to have them?” she asks, biting her lip and leaning into my face, our noses touching.

I let out a soft chuckle, the corners of my mouth tugging into a light smirk as I held her closer to me.

“Once a sinner, always a sinner,” I murmur into the shell of her ear, relishing the shiver that runs through her at my words. “And who says priests can’t have a little fun?” She lets out a soft giggle as she wraps her arms around my neck, pulling herself closer.

The chill of the water is forgotten as her dark hair cascades down my bare chest.

“Does that make me one too?” she questions, her gaze flitting up to meet mine. The sunlight kisses her skin, giving her an ethereal glow on her face.

“Only if you want to be,” I answer, my voice low as I dip my head closer to hers. Our lips brush ever so slightly, like the whisper of a sin in the making. Her breath, redolent with anticipation and desire, warms my flesh which was icy a moment before.

“Then I guess…” she starts, her fingers at the back of my head pushing me closer to her. But her words are lost as our lips meet in a kiss. I love the feeling of her tongue brushing against mine. If this is a sin damning me to hell, then so be it. I’d willingly burn for an eternity just to experience such rapture again and again.

Her lips slide against mine, soft and yielding. The taste of her sends a jolt of electricity down my spine. Slowly, she pulls back, her teeth grazing my bruised lips in a final tease before letting go. Her eyes cast away from mine now.

“I have to go now, but I’ll find you.” My body tenses at the thought of her returning to him. I don’t want her to, but I have to test her to make sure she’s devoted and not tainted. This could cost me my life—it’s a stupid gamble, but I like playing dangerous games.

Her words hang heavy in the air between us, a confession and a promise rolled into one. Lifting one hand, I lightly trace the curve of her cheek, a silent plea for her to stay. The hint of a frown crosses her features at my touch, and she quickly looks down to hide it.

"I will free you… have faith in your God,” I whisper, pulling her closer to me, but she slips out from the circle of my grasp, her movements as graceful as a cat. Before I can even think to reach for her, she’s out of the water and slipping into her dress. She doesn’t turn as she runs into the foliage and disappears into the woods. Alone once more, I am left with only the whispering wind and the rhythmic lapping of the water against my body. I rise, stepping out of the water, getting dressed, and heading back down the path to the church.

After a twenty-minute walk, I’m back at the church. As usual, it’s empty, but I welcome the solitude. Opening the heavy church door, I slip inside, only to find someone sitting on the third pew on the right, hunched over in devout contemplation. The pale, flickering candlelight does little to reveal his features, but the sheer heaviness of his presence sends a shudder of unease down my spine. There’s something about him—a lurking darkness that sets my senses on edge.

“For a priest, you spend little to barely any time in your church,” the familiar voice says. The figure turns, exposing a scarred face—the man from the other night.

“So, you’ve noticed,” I respond, keeping my tone neutral, but inside, I’m coiling like a spring, ready for any possible threat. “That’s because my duty to God doesn’t confine me within these holy walls. It takes me to the people who need His word the most.”

He chuckles, his eyes narrowing at my response, but he doesn’t reply. He remains seated as I circle him. “Your time is ticking, priest. Did you decide—sink or swim?”

My gaze lingers on his scarred face, considering the implications of his words. “That depends,” I say, stepping forward as if to challenge him, “on whether the waters we’re discussing are holy or cursed. Are you threatening me?”

The stranger’s laughter echoes within the walls of the church. “No,” he says coldly. Something about him gives me chills. He’s different from the typical sinners; he’s like me, and that makes him dangerous. “He sent his angel to you… that cunt has you crazy, and it will cost you your life.”

A chill runs down my spine at his words, yet I refuse to let the fear show on my face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, meeting his chilly gaze. The man laughs. “I can smell her on you. It’s okay to be in denial; it won’t change that your time is running out.” And with that, he stands and leaves, leaving me with a sense of dread—a leaden weight settling in the pit of my stomach. Yet, I straighten my back and look up towards the large stained-glass window. I have to make my move; no more waiting. Tonight is the night I kill Victor Morales.

The church echoes with the faint creak of the door as it slowly closes, the sound intensifying my resolve like a chilling, silent gong. I remain rooted in place for a while longer, letting the silence wash over me, before finally breaking my stillness. Turning towards the altar, I kneel and clasp my hands together and pray.

As I melt into prayer, the words come as a whisper, a plea to the heavens. I beg for guidance, for strength, but mostly, I pray for forgiveness for what I am about to do. The church stands silent, offering no condemnation nor comfort, only an unwavering reminder of the solemn oath I once took.

Closing my eyes, I remember the day I took my oath to cleanse the world of sinners. How I delivered my first sinner, how it felt to take the lifeout of him, how his eyes widened in shock and then slowly glazed over, the light within them extinguishing like a candle in the wind. The thrill of it was intoxicating, a divine high.

Yet it was also a cold awakening to the path I had chosen. A path paved with blood and tears, marked by the fallen.

The memory of that night is raw and visceral, a bitter taste in the back of my throat. But even then, there had been a twisted sense of justice to it all. I’d been doing God’s work, after all.

But Victor Morales is different. His sins are deeper, darker—a tangled web of corruption and cruelty spun over the years that stains the very fabric of this city. He’s not just another sinner; he’s a monster, an affront to everything I stand for and everything I want. The truth is, I never cared for God or the church, not until her. My sole purpose was to kill to keep my demons at bay.

But now I understand my purpose—my divine path that led me to her. And sometimes, to kill a monster, you have to become one.

The jingle of the rosary beads hanging from my belt echoes through the church as I rise from my knees. It’s a comforting sound, a reminder of the divine validation for my actions. With a deep breath, I move towards my room, needing rest for what’s to come.

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