Page 7 of Mafia Priest

“I’m sorry.” I shift uneasily on his lap. “I shouldn’t have—”

“Stop.” His fingers dig into my hips. “Stop apologizing, and for the love of all that’s holy,sitstill. I need to fucking think for a minute. But Jesus Christ, honey… How can I when you keep wiggling like that?”

I go still. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing!” He groans. “God, you’re such an innocent. I want what you’re offering, princess, but the part of me that’s still sane is sounding the alarm.”

“I know it’s messed up.” I blink back tears. “I’mmessed—”

“No,” he growls. “You arenotmessed up. You’re fucking perfect.I’mthe one who’s…” He takes a deep breath. “Do you have any idea how fucking hard the thought of you calling me Daddy makes me?”

I frown. “I don’t understand. If you like it, then what’s the problem?”

“You’re a goddamn orphan! Of course you have daddy issues. But what kind of piece of shit would I be to take advantage of that?”

Breathing in the clean, masculine scent of him, I whisper, “It’s not taking advantage of me if… if it’s what I need, Daddy.”

I feel him grow harder, and the ache inside me intensifies. Unable to help it, I squirm in his lap, searching for more friction, searching forsomething…

“What youneed, princess, is to be taken in hand.” He brushes his lips over mine, and I don’t justhearhis words but feel them, too. “What were you thinking, coming here wearing a dress designed to be taken off?”

Before I can answer, he grasps my hips and then I’m facedown, stretched across his lap, the hard length of his arousal pressing into me. My core clenches as he shoves my dress up around my waist.

“Day after day, you’ve teased me with your sexy little body, staring at me with those bedroom eyes.” He caresses my bottom. “But that’s not why I have to punish you.”

At the wordpunish,I become even wetter, and his hand slides lower, rubbing the soaked crotch of my underwear. His fingers press into me, only the wet lace of my panties between him and my sex. A tingling, buzzing sensation builds between my legs, making it impossible to think, to do anything other thanwant.

“Talk to me, little girl. Use your words. If you want your daddy to fuck you, then it’s time you actually confessed.”

He’s right. And Iwantto… I want to tell him everything. But before I can, there’s a sharp swat on my bottom that sends a jolt of pleasure straight to my core. Oh my God, this is what I’ve needed, what I’ve been missing. I know this is supposed to be punishment, but it feels so incrediblyright.

“Answer me, angel.” He spanks me again, harder. “What are you hiding?”

Each time he spanks me, I feel freer. Each blow a reminder that I’m not in control—he is. I haven’t dared to be honest, but he’s taken the choice from me, freed me from my self-doubt.

Drawing in a deep breath, I whisper, “When I’m on my knees, I worship you, not God.”

He hits me again, lower, his fingers grazing the edge of my sex, making my whole body tingle. Yes, this is what I needed, permission to let go.

“When I close my eyes at night, it’s your face I see. I imagine that you’re there with me, kiss—” I break off as he spanks me again, even harder.

“This soaking-wet gash suggests you’re craving more than kisses, princess. Do you touch yourself when you think about kissing me? Do you rub your horny little bud and call out my name?”

Not waiting for an answer, he spanks me—again and again, the blows coming faster. Pleasure and pain course through me, taking my breath away, absolving me of responsibility. This is the religious experience I’ve longed for but never found. And yet it’s incomplete because the more he spanks me, the more the ache inside me grows, an ache only he can assuage.

“I… I do, Father. When I’m alone… I touch myself. And when I do, I pray.” The blows stop, and he tenses. “Night after night, I’ve prayed that you’ll let me call you Daddy. Prayed that you’ll break your vows and choosemeover God.”

Four

Salvatore

At her vulnerability,something in me breaks open. Smoothing down her dress, I drag her back onto my lap, crushing her against my chest. She buries her face in my neck, and I hold her more tightly. Kissing the top of her head, I don’t speak. Ican’t. I don’t fucking deserve her innocent adoration, but I’m terrified of losing it. Terrified of looking into her eyes as I watch her illusions shatter. And if she knew who I really am, theywouldshatter. They’d be crushed to fucking dust.

Unable to bring myself to lie when she’s been so beautifully honest, I tell her the truth—just not all of it. “Baby, you can call me anything you fucking want. If you wanted me to leave the priesthood, you only had to ask—me, just me, not God. But you willneverhave to ask me to choose you. I chose you a long time ago.”

“I’m sorry, Father.” My cock jumps as her breath teases my neck. “I’m sorry I lied. I was so afraid you’d be disgusted and send me away. You won’t, will you?”

It’s all I can do not to turn her over my knee and spank her again. How can shestillnot realize that I worship the ground she walks on?

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