Jasmine slapped Illias’ shoulder. “Ah! Look at what the cat dragged in! Father Cantrell! I am so glad you joined us tonight.”
Illias choked on his spit and covered his mouth with his fist. Cantrell looked at Illias but he turned to avoid embarrassing himself further. Jasmine sauntered over to Cantrell and leaned against the counter. “Our dear boy Illias was just telling us how he’s found the Lord. Tell us Father, has hetrulyfound the Lord?”
Cantrell’s eyebrows rose and he cleared his throat. “Well, he has been attending Mass regularly since his return to Dunwich, but—”
Illias whipped his head around just in time to catch Cantrell looking over Jasmine’s shoulder at him.
“—he could probably use a few more confessional visits.”
Is it possible to die of embarrassment?
Illias regained his composure as Cantrell walked away from the bar to go sit down at one of the tables. Illias fixed Cantrell’s usual then left the bar. He chose the same table as the night they first met. Far right corner with one dingy light that provided barely enough light to see. Illias pushed his shoulders back to accentuate his height as he got closer and smirked when Cantrell’s eyes drifted down his body. Illias bent at the hip, jutting his ass out, and placed a folded napkin under Cantrell’s drink before sliding it over to him. Cantrell’s eyes fell to the napkin, eyebrows knitting together.
“I figured you might want my address in case I’m”—Illias coughed gently into his fist, smirk never dropping— “too sick to go to the church for confession.”
Cantrell paled. “I absolutely cannot take that,” he whispered. “Have you lost your mind?”
Illias shrugged one shoulder as his head tilted towards the same side. “Maybe, but think about it, Father. Do you want to risk someone hearing my confessions?”
Illias patted the table then went back to work before he got scolded by Maverick for flirting with the good Father. Even if, by technicality, Illias was, he didn’t need to hear it from Maverick.
Back behind the bar, Illias went about business as normal. Every so often, he’d glance towards the back of the bar, but Cantrell never needed anything. He kept to himself the whole night, sipping on iced tea and reading. Illias tried to think of excuses to go back to the floor to talk to Cantrell but Jasmine was in charge of taking care of tables that night, leaving him stuck behind the bar without escape.
Late into the night, Illias noticed Cantrell working his way through the late-night crowd. Illias grabbed Jasmine when she came back from the floor with a pile of dirty cups. “I’m taking a quick break. I’ll be back in five.”
“If you’re not, I’ll send Maverick after you myself.”
He rolled his eyes then left the bar, hurrying through the crowd in hopes that he could catch Cantrell before it was too late. Illias forgot to pick his foot far enough off the ground as he stepped through the door, the toe of his shoe catching on the small lift and causing him to trip. A small laugh caught his ear.Perfect.Illias righted himself and smiled sheepishly when he saw Cantrell standing in front of him. “Hey.”
“Impatient, are we?” Cantrell raised an eyebrow, but his eyes sparkled with a hint of playfulness.
“Just a little. I—” Illias paused when he heard loud laughter just on the other side of the bar door. He walked towards Cantrell then grabbed him by the wrist.
“What’re you—”
Not giving him a chance to finish, Illias darted around the corner with Cantrell in tow just as a trio burst through the bar door. Caught up in their conversation, they didn’t notice Illias and Cantrell disappear into the alley.
“Oh, thank you,” Cantrell said, watching the trio stumble across the parking lot.
“Don’t mention it. I figured you wouldn’t want to get seen with me.” Illias winced. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—whatever, forget it.” His heart pounded.Why am I freaking out? Quick, think of something.“The mark you left is gone.”
“And?” Cantrell stepped forward. “Is there something you’re trying to ask?”
He reached up and stroked his knuckles across Illias’ cheek, fingers cold against his scorching skin. Illias leaned into the delicate touch. “Please.”
“You haven’t asked me to do anything yet. You have to ask before you start begging.”“Will you mark me again? Please, it’s all I’ve thought about since it faded.”
Cantrell took another step and Illias’ back met the brick wall. “Is that so?”
“It showed everyone I flirted with that I’m yours.”
Cantrell grabbed Illias’ jaw and craned his neck to the side. Arousal seared through him, igniting every nerve. Cantrell nipped the underside of Illias’ jaw. “You want to be claimed by your priest?”
“Please Father.”
Cantrell sunk his teeth into Illias neck and sucked on the skin. He clamped his mouth closed before his cry could escape, breathing shakily through his nose instead. Illias’ cock strained against his zipper, pent-up desire running rampant through him from such a simple act. He grabbed the front of Cantrell’s shirt, pulling him closer while arching into him. Cantrell released the skin then kissed the spot gently. “There you are. A nice dark mark claiming you as mine.”
“God please, let me take you home,” Illias begged.
