Lessons in Sin

With my thighs pressed against the backs of hers, one hand working her pussy, and my other stroking the length of my cock, I pressed my forehead against her spine and marked the crescendo of her sounds.

Frenzied breaths. Guttural moans. Strangled pleasure. She was there, tensing, shaking violently. Then she buried her mouth in the bend of her arm and silently roared her release.

My throat closed around a gasp as I squeezed the crown of my shaft and sank my fingers to the root, roughly, erratically, coming with her, swallowing my groans, and jetting across her clean floor.

As we caught our breaths, I tucked myself away and pulled her into my arms. Then I kissed her slowly, softly, basking in the feel of her loose, satisfied limbs and contented sighs.

“You need to finish the floors.” I bit at her lip. “You have a mess to clean up.”

Perched on my desk with her arms and legs twined about my body, she peered down at the stripes of come on the floor between my shoes.

She hummed happily and returned her lips to mine. Her fingers snaked through my hair as my tongue took lazy strolls through her mouth.

Borrowing time.

Stealing moments.

Until a knock sounded on the door.

My pulse spiked.

Tinsley shoved away and dropped to the floor, frantically reaching for the bucket. Another impatient knock came as I crossed the room and opened the door.

“Hi, Father Magnus.” Nevada smiled flirtatiously, holding a laptop and twirling her hair. “Are you…?” She bent her neck to see around me. “Oh.”

I followed her gaze to Tinsley, who was scrubbing my come off the floor.

It was wrong. Immoral. Illegal.

But it didn’t feel wrong.

Nothing had ever felt so right.

“I need help with today’s calculus assignment,” Nevada purred, making my skin crawl.

I didn’t want to help her. I didn’t want to do this job. Right now, all I wanted was my golden angel spread across my desk and screaming my name.

“Come in.” I motioned at the front row. “I’ll be right with you.”

CHAPTER 27

MAGNUS

This was wrong.

I sat in the confessional and leaned my head against the wood panel behind me. I didn’t want to be here.

On the other side of the screen, the penitent, a soft-spoken Sion girl, whispered in the dark about the usual sins—disobeying her parents, cheating on homework, and cursing with friends.

I’d heard it all before, but I wasn’t hearing it now.

My restless mind ran on a single track that began and ended with Tinsley Constantine.

It had been three weeks since the Winter Formal, and in those weeks, I’d spent a great many hours with my face buried between her legs. At every opportunity, I laid her out on my desk, spread her wide, and feasted upon her body.

Her inner thighs bore abrasions from my whiskers. Bruises from my fingers dappled her hips. Bite marks decorated her tits.

While I couldn’t keep my hands and mouth off her, I’d had enough restraint to stop her from touching me.

Jerking off where she couldn’t see my hand was bad enough. But putting my filthy cock anywhere on, in, or near her? That was out of the question. She was too pure and decent. Too good for my tarnished existence.

I justified every interaction by telling myself I was giving her pleasure and making her happy. But at the end of the day, I knew what I was doing was selfish and reckless and wrong.

I needed to stop.

I had to let her go.

“Father?” the girl asked through the latticed opening. “Are you there?”

She couldn’t see me. I could only make out a vague silhouette of her. I’d completely tuned her out and forgotten she was there.

“Yes.” I cleared my throat.

“I said, that’s all, Father. Those are my sins.”

“For your penance, say ten Hail Marys…”

I tried to pay attention through the next hour of confessions, but my heart wasn’t in it.

Had my heart ever been in this?

I needed the structure. The disciplined life of priesthood helped me suppress the violence inside me.

Today was the last day of school before Christmas break. By tomorrow, the village would be a ghost town. With the exception of a few faculty members, everyone would be gone for the next three weeks.

Crisanto would head to New York City to visit his mother. I should go with him and see my own parents, but I wouldn’t. I wasn’t close to them anymore. I’d ruined that relationship many years ago.

Last week, I sent a satisfactory report to Caroline Constantine, ensuring Tinsley would spend Christmas with her family. She was leaving tonight for Bishop’s Landing.

For three weeks.

The thought was debilitating.

Rather than celebrating the reprieve I would have from the students, I was lamenting it. Dreading her departure.

This kind of behavior wasn’t me. I didn’t miss people. I didn’t care about anyone.

Yet here I was, swimming in an upside-down world where all I wanted was to be with a woman I couldn’t have. A woman who could frustrate me, turn me on, and fire me up like no other.