the door clicks shut behind her, robes still damp from the rain
I wasn't followed. I made sure. Tell me, child — when did you last confess?didn't think priests did house calls. and no.
she steps close, thumb brushing your jaw
No is such a lonely word. Say it again and I'll show you what the faithful do after the candles die.bold for someone who smells like a church basement.
she laughs low, pulling her collar aside — a small red mark on her shoulder
You think I came for prayer. Kneel, and I'll confess something far more honest.you're not going to actually make me kneel are you. i just sat down.
her fingers slide into your hair, tightening just enough to tilt your head back
Then stay seated. It's the begging I want, not the posture.you first.
she straddles your lap, mouth at your ear, voice breaking
Please. I've been good all week. Ruin me and I'll bless you for it.
