Page 77 of Sinning for Santa

Just like when I’m at Cloud 9.

Just like last night when Devon kissed me.

Or in his bathroom when he touched me until I came apart.

Or today, on his desk, with his head between my legs.

“I’m waiting,”he rasps, it’s gravel sending a chill down my spine.

“Bless me Father for I have sinned.”

“Uh, uh, uh,” he tuts. “You are not in the Lord’s house now, little mouse, remember? You are in the devil’s house. Repeat after me.” He shifts, and I watch as those big strong hands unclasp and shift to rest on the tops of his thighs. “My devil.”

“My devil,” I repeat, my voice husky from my arousal.

“I bestow upon you.” He continues, so I repeat.

“I bestow upon you.”

“My darkest sins.”

I clear my throat. “My darkest sins.”

“And ask that you bathe in my debauchery.”

I hesitate a moment, knowing how opposite this is from confessing and receiving penance. He wants me to confess and celebrate, and everything I’ve been taught is rushing at me from all directions, yet my eyes, locked on the way his fingers grip his thighs with impatience, has me opening my mouth, and not only saying the words, but meaning them.

“And ask that you bathe in my debauchery.”

“Now say it all together, and I might go easy on you.”

A breath escapes me at his words, and I have no idea what he means. Is he going to punish me with pleasure, or with pain?

I should be scared, right?

I’m not.

For some reason, I want to give myself over to him completely, no matter the consequences.

“My devil. I bestow upon you my darkest sins, and ask that you bathe in my debauchery.”

“Atta girl,” he rasps, and his lips kick up at the corner.

I feel utterly wicked for saying those words. Utterly sinful. They are only words, but they mean so much. So, so much.

“Divulge your sins, Jaxcen. Tell me everything bad you’ve done.”

“I’ve committed adultery.” I rush out.

“And did youlike it?” he asks, his palms running up and down his thighs.

“Yes,” I admit. “Very much.”

“Did it make you feel bad, even while it made you feel good?”

“Yes.” I nod. “But…”

“But what, little mouse?”

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