I move quickly, kneeling between his parted thighs and taking his cock back in my mouth. I bob my head up and down a few times, taking him all the way to the back of my throat, and swallowing. He’s big and thick, and I gag on him, but it doesn’t matter. I want this. I want him.
Elijah grabs my head with both hands and lifts his hips, fucking my throat with wild abandon. I let him control the pace, let him use me. He doesn’t even know he’s doing it, doesn’t know how gorgeous he looks while he loses his mind.
The first drop of cum on my tongue makes my eyes roll to the back of my head, but I force myself to snap out of it because I want to watch him. I want to see him unravel. I don’t want to miss a single second. His flavor explodes in my mouth, and I swallow greedily, over and over again, until his cock softens in my mouth. Only then do I pull away from him.
It feels like I could come with one stroke at this point, and I know I probably can. I’m so keyed up I probably won’t be able to hold back. It’s his fault. He’s everything I’ve been missing. What I didn’t know I needed.
I climb on top of him, knees on either side of his waist, as I grab my cock and begin to jerk it frantically. A shiver runs down my spine the closer I get to my climax, and my hand tightens as I begin to shake uncontrollably. My body hasn’t reacted this way to an orgasm in fucking centuries. Never, if I’m being honest with myself.
I moan loudly, staring at Elijah’s face. His eyes are wide, and he looks feral. His hands grip my hips as I get closer to him, and he digs his blunt fingernails into me. “Open your mouth, Elijah. Show me your tongue.”
He nods and opens his mouth, sticking his tongue out. His eyes stay connected to mine, the blue in them dilating evenmore until they look nearly black. My balls tighten as I feel my impending orgasm, and I aim my cock at his mouth.
“Want me to soak you, Little Lamb?” I ask him, and his eyes roll back in his head. “Answer me,” I growl through gritted teeth.
Elijah nods frantically, whispering, “Yes,please.”
Icome with a growl, aiming my cock at his face and mouth. His lips and tongue are coated in my cum, and so are his cheeks and chin. He closes his mouth and swallows, and it’s so hot my cock rallies for another round. Fuck, I’ll never recover from this. I need to taste him.
Need to?—
I crash my lips to his, sucking his bottom one into my mouth. My flavor explodes on my taste buds, and I shove my tongue into his mouth. He’s greedy. Hands gripping everything they can reach: my back, my waist, my ass. Elijah has lost all control, and I hope he never regains it.
Pulling away, I lick his chin and cheeks, gathering my cum from his skin to shove it back into his mouth with a filthy kiss. He groans at the taste, and I feel like I’m ascending.
He was wrong all along.
He’s not unholy.
Elijah is the very opposite.
If he’s not careful, he’ll become the new god I worship.
The only one.
My head has been pounding for the past twenty-four hours. Or maybe it’s shame making my head hurt. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what happened in the abandoned chapel with the one who must not be named. If I even think of his name, he might appear. I can’t take that chance. So I’ve forced myself to block that out, but I can’t unsee him sucking my cock. I can’t unfeel it. It would be easier to put this all behind me and forget it ever happened.Thatwould be the safest option, at least. But I can’t deny that he woke a beast inside of me. If I thought I craved touch before him, I was sorely mistaken.
Now Ineedit.
Have to have it no matter the cost.
When I tore that page out of the book, not once did it cross my mind that I was summoning some type of fallen angel. At least I don’t think I was fully aware. I firmly believe I wouldn’t have gone through with it had I actually known.
I can still taste his cum in my mouth, can still feel it rolling down my throat as I swallowed it down greedily. As if I couldn’t get enough—and I couldn’t. I was hungry for more. Starving,really. And when he shoved his tongue into my mouth and I tasted him again, I felt relieved. Because it wasn’t a dream. I didn’t conjure it all up in my head. It should’ve freaked me out, but that came later in the silence and darkness of my room. When I had time to sit down with my thoughts and feel defiled. Even then, I couldn’t deny that I did it to myself. I was a willing participant. He’s the one who coaxed me into doing it, but I don’t think I would’ve been able to say no if I tried. Truthfully, it didn’t take much to convince me.
I’m scared of what this means for me. Something inside of me has shifted, and while I’ve always struggled with my sexuality and remaining pure, I can’t help but admit to myself that this is what I’ve been craving all along. Someone who isn’t afraid to corrupt me, who will ignore my shame and bring out my pleasure. I’m going to hell, and I know it, now more than ever, but at the same time I can’t bring myself to regret it.
That’s exactly why I’ve been fasting for two days, as penance for my sins. If I can’t even regret it, how am I supposed to beg for forgiveness? And even if I were to beg, how will I ever be forgiven, how will I actually repent, if I don’t mean it? No. I can’t do this to myself. Not after how hard I’ve worked to bury it all deeply. To not think of the impurities that plague my mind on a daily basis.
I should be at confession right now, telling Father Jacob I’ve fornicated with a man. But I can’t. I’m too scared. I know they’ll kick me out of the church. Purity is sacred here, and they’ll deem me dirty, more than I already do. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to admit it out loud, if I’m being honest with myself. The mere thought of being abandoned, left without a sense of community, is enough to make me spiral. I’ve relied on the church for so long that I don’t know if I’m even capable of living without it. I think that’s why I’ve refused to leave. Why I stuff it all down and pretend I’m okay, when I know no part of me is. But there’snothing I can do about it, so I might as well suck it up and get it together. I can’t think about him anymore—it’s not good for me. It’ll only bring me more despair.
The sense of loss I feel is insurmountable. Like something sacred has been ripped from my grasp. And maybe that’s exactly what’s happening—but I’ll never be able to do anything about it. This is a choice I have to make for myself. Because the alternative, living in sin, is not a life I could ever lead. Not for long. It’s not sustainable.
So I won’t.
With that decided, I sigh and look up from my bible. My hand is cramping from how much I’ve written in my notebook. Bible study is in full swing, and all my friends are laser-focused, everyone but Micah. No, he’s staring at me intently, clearly trying to read me. There’s a smirk on his lips, and I quickly look away from him. I really don’t need any more temptation in my life. I have to push him away too. It’s the only way I’ll be safe from this feeling festering inside of me. Like I’m rotting with yearning from the inside out, and there’s nothing I can do to make it stop. But I have to try. That much I do know.
This time, though, I don’t feel excitement when he looks at me. It almost feels wrong. Like when you put on the wrong size shoe. Uncomfortable. It’s because he’s not right any longer. The only one I want looking at me like that is the fallen angel plaguing my thoughts, invading them as if he owns my mind. He’s living rent-free in my head, and I can’t seem to evict him. I also don’t have the will to. Because if I can never do it again, if I can’t ever experience him again, at least I’ll have my thoughts to get me through the rest of my life.
