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EXPLORING THE DARK

18+ Explicit (7,457 words) Terzo x fem!afab!oc

Mira lets her morbid curiosity lead her into confession with the object of her obsession...Papa Emeritus III, and he shows her how embracing sin can be the path to absolution

One of my early works that needed rewriting...but confessional sex is always too good to waste

[Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Smut, Confessional Sex, Masturbation, Orals Sex, Face-Fucking, Cunnilingus, Doggy Style, Mild Choking, Multiple Orgasms, Altar Sex, Edging, Hand Jobs, P in V Sex, Aftercare, Romantic Fluff]

Read on AO3

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The Ministry loomed before her, its towering spire reaching towards the moon like a dark, stone finger. The air was heavy with the scent of incense and the distant sound of music seemed to pull her towards the imposing wooden doors. As she stepped inside, the creaking of the old hinges echoed through the cavernous space. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation, the shadows cast by the flickering candles dancing across the walls like living things. The taste of fear and excitement mingled on her tongue, a heady cocktail that did nothing to calm her frayed nerves.

She stood at the edge of the chapel, her eyes scanning the darkness of the familiar space. This was not her first foray into the dark, mysterious world of the Satanic church, but she had never sought out guidance from its leader before, preferring to keep to shadowy corners, observing out of morbid curiosity. Her heart pounded in her chest, her skin tingling with a mix of fear and arousal as she felt the weight of the silence around her. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess of desire and trepidation, her mind racing with the possibilities of what the night might bring, and the darkness that lurked within these walls. Just when she was about to let her nerves overtake her & run back through the heavy wooden doors she saw what she had been searching for: the confessional.

As she approached, the scent of aged wood and a hint of something musky and masculine grew stronger. The door creaked open on its own, revealing a dimly lit interior that seemed to swallow the light from the candles flickering outside. She hesitated for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest like a drum, before stepping inside and closing the door behind her. The silence was deafening, the only sound her own ragged breaths echoing in the small, confined space. She knelt down on the worn velvet cushion, her eyes adjusting to the dim light, and saw the silhouette of a man seated on the other side of the screen. Papa Emeritus III, the leader of this clandestine gathering, the man who held the power to grant her darkest desires or cast her into the depths of despair.

She could feel his gaze on her, heavy and intense, like a physical caress. His voice, when it came, was a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through the walls of the confessional, sending a shiver down her spine. "Speak, mia figlia," he commanded, his voice a dark, velvety purr that seemed to wrap around her like a warm embrace. She swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry, as she struggled to find the words to express the thoughts that had been consuming her. "I... I need absolution," she finally managed to whisper, her voice barely audible even to her own ears. "I need to be... punished." She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks as she spoke, the shame and desire warring within her. But Papa didn't miss a beat. "Punished, you say? What have you done that would make you feel this way," he mused, his voice like liquid sin.

She continued, "I'm so lost. So consumed. Your music. Your voice. It's all I can think about. Watching you onstage, I was unprepared for how it would affect me. I know it's wrong and I feel like the only way I can release the hold you have on me is to...to tell you."

Papa chuckled, a low, throaty sound that sent a jolt of electricity straight to her core. "Lost, mia figlia? Si, I can help you find your way, cara. But first, you must be honest with me. Tell me, what do you fantasize about when you listen to my music? What dark thoughts consume your mind as you watch me on stage?" His voice was a seductive whip, cracking through the air and driving her to the edge of her seat. She squirmed, her thighs clenching together as she felt a growing heat and dampness between her legs. She knew she was playing with fire, but she couldn't help herself. She wanted to be consumed by the flames.

"Tell me," he urged, his voice dropping to a dangerous purr. "Do you dream of my hands on your body, squeezing your flesh, leaving bruises in my wake? Do you see me worshipping your body, giving you pleasure like you have never known before? Do you imagine my cock, thick and hard, sliding in and out of your mouth, fucking your face until you gag? Or perhaps you picture yourself bent over, my handprint red and raw on your ass, tears streaming down your cheeks as I plunge into you from behind, taking what I want, using you for my pleasure?" His words were a filthy symphony, each sentence a crude note that resonated deep within her. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she fought to maintain control. But it was no use. His words had set her body ablaze, and she knew that the only way to extinguish the flames was to give in to the darkness that had been consuming her for so long.

Papa leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "Let me give you some advice, cara. Sometimes, the only way to break free from a sinful obsession is to indulge in it, to let it consume you utterly. Imagine my voice, my words, not just in your ears, but in your mind, guiding your hand as you touch yourself, bringing yourself to the edge of ecstasy, only to deny yourself, over and over again. That's the true punishment, the true path to absolution."

He continued, his voice a dark, seductive melody, "Now, tell me, what would you do if I told you to touch yourself right now, here in this confessional? Would you be a good girl and obey, or would you be wicked and refuse? Because, let me tell you, the idea of you defying me, of making me punish you... it makes me ache for you, it makes me want to take you right here, right now, and show you just how much you need this, need me." His voice was eerily gentle, a stark contrast to his words, each phrase lewd and strangely beautiful, drawing out a response that was equal parts fear, excitement, and arousal. She could feel her hand trembling as she reached down, her fingers sliding beneath the hem of her dress, finding the damp heat between her legs. She bit her lip, stifling a moan as she began to stroke herself, her body quivering with anticipation and desire. She was playing a dangerous game, but she couldn't stop. Not now. Not until he told her to.

Papa's voice, a sultry, commanding rumble, filled the tiny confessional as he guided her further down this path of burning desire. "Si, that's it, cara," he whispered, his breath hot against the screen that separated them, "Feel the warmth of your own touch. Imagine it's my hand, my fingers sliding through your wetness, finding that sensitive little bud that aches for release." She could feel her heart racing, her breath ragged as she followed his orders, her fingers circling her clit, drawing out whimpers that she struggled to suppress. The confessional seemed to shrink around her, the air thick with the scent of her arousal and the musk of his own desire, silent evidence of their unspoken cravings.

Papa growled, a low, animalistic sound that sent shivers down her spine. "Stop," he commanded, his voice harsh and unyielding. She froze, her fingers still buried in her folds, her body aching with the sudden denial. "Come here, cara," he purred, his voice softening, "I want to taste that sweet sin on your fingers. I want to see the desperation in your eyes as you watch me lick your desire from your skin." She hesitated for a moment, her mind racing with the implications of his words, before slowly standing and stepping towards the screen that separated them. She could feel the warmth of his breath on the other side, could hear the sound of his tongue darting out to wet his lips in anticipation. With a shaking hand, she reached out, pressing her fingers against the cool, smooth surface, feeling the vibration of his chuckle against her skin as he licked her fingers through the screen. "Good girl," he whispered, his voice a dark, seductive promise. "Now, let us see just how well you follow orders."

Papa's voice, velvety and commanding, filled the confined space as he guided her further down this path of lust. "Lie back again, cara, and spread your legs wide for me," he ordered, his breath hot against the screen. She complied, feeling the cool air against her glistening skin, her pussy throbbing with need. "Now, slide your fingers in deep. Bring your fingers to your mouth. Lick them clean. Taste the sweet sin that has made you so desperate." Her heart hammered in her chest as she lifted her hand, her eyes locked on the shadowy silhouette behind the screen. She wrapped her lips around her fingers, sucking them clean, the tangy taste of her arousal on her tongue. She moaned softly, the sound echoing in the small space, as she imagined it was his cock she was sucking, his taste she was savoring.

Papa let out a low, appreciative growl, his voice dropping to a sultry rumble. "Enough, cara. I need to touch you...NOW."

He pushed open the screen, revealing his slender but intimidating form. His eyes, one green, one ghostly white, like twin flames, burned into her, consuming her whole as he stepped into her space, his slim shoulders blocking out the dim light. She could feel the heat radiating from his body, could see the way his muscles tensed beneath his black cassock, as if he were barely leashing the beast within. The eerie paint that adorned his angular face, beading with sweat from the strain of resisting temptation. He reached out, his hand cupping her chin, his thumb brushing against her lower lip, a rough, possessive caress that made her heart race. "You have been such a good girl, cara," he murmured, his voice a low, dangerous purr, "But now it is time to let your Papa take control."

His mouth descended on hers, hungry and demanding, his tongue pushing past her lips to explore the depths of her mouth. She moaned, her body arching into his, as he kissed her with a fierce, possessive intensity that left her breathless and wanting more. His hands roamed her body, squeezing her breasts, plucking at her nipples through the thin fabric of her dress, before sliding down to grip her thighs, pulling them apart, opening her to him. She could feel the smooth texture of soft leather, the strength in his hands, as he guided her, positioning her just the way he wanted. And then, with a low, guttural groan, he slid a gloved finger deep inside her. She clenched around him with a desperate whimper. Slowly, he added a second finger, his thumb circling her clit, as his mouth continued to devour hers, their moans and gasps mingling in the tiny, candlelit confessional. She could feel the pleasure building, the tension burning in her core, as he fingered her with expert precision, his touch dark, delicious, and utterly addictive.

As Papa's fingers pumped in and out of her with the unique sensation of leather against her tender skin, she could feel her body tensing, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. His mouth never left hers, his tongue fucking her in time with his fingers, the dual sensation driving her closer and closer to the edge. She clawed at his cassock, desperate to feel his skin, to mark him as hers. He growled against her lips, a primal, possessive sound that sent a shiver down her spine. "You are mine, cara," he rasped, breaking the kiss to trail his lips down her neck, nipping at the sensitive skin. "All mine to do with as I please." His fingers curved inside her, hitting that sweet spot that made her vision swim, and she cried out, her hips bucking against his hand, seeking more, needing more.

Papa chuckled, a dark, ominous sound that promised pleasure and pain in equal measure. He withdrew his gloved fingers, leaving her feeling empty and bereft, before taking her hand and guiding it to his cassock. "Feel what you do to me," he commanded, his voice a low, urgent growl. She could feel the thick, hard length of him through the fabric, pulsing with need. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and filled with desire, as she slowly began to lower his zipper, her heart pounding in her chest. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice a dark, sultry whisper, as she reached inside and wrapped her hand around his cock, feeling the silken smoothness of his skin, the steel-like hardness beneath. "Show me what you've fantasized about," he ordered, his voice a harsh, commanding growl, as she dropped her head down, his hand fisting in her hair, gently guiding her in place as she took him into her mouth, inch by inch, until she felt the head of his cock hit the back of her throat. And then, with a low, guttural groan, he began to slowly fuck her mouth, using her, owning her, as she moaned around his length, her body aching with desire, her mind consumed by the dark, delicious sin of his command.

As she began to suck his cock, her mouth stretched to accommodate his thickness, and Papa let out a low, satisfied growl. His hand tightened in her hair, guiding her head, setting a rhythm that was slow and torturously deliberate. She could feel the heat of his gaze on her, watching as she took him deeper, her eyes watering, her makeup smudging. The sensation of his cock sliding in and out of her mouth, the salty, masculine taste of him, sent waves of desire crashing through her. She could feel her own arousal growing, her pussy throbbing with need, as she worked to please him, to obey his silent commands.

Suddenly, he pulled out of her, his breath ragged, his eyes wild. "Enough," he grunted, his voice hoarse with desire. He pushed her back onto the velvet cushion, her dress riding up to expose her bare thighs. She could see the hunger in his eyes as he took in the sight of her, her chest heaving, her lips swollen from his kisses and his cock. He reached down, sliding her panties off and throwing them aside, then roughly grabbing the hem of her dress and pulling it off over her head exposing her flushed body to him, glistening with sweat and arousal. He grabbed her hips and flipped her over onto her hands and knees. She could feel the cool air against her exposed pussy, could hear the sound of his cassock rustling as he positioned himself behind her. "You have been such a good girl, cara," he murmured, his voice a dark, seductive rumble, "But I cannot resist temptation any longer." And with that, he gripped her hips, angled himself at her entrance, and with one powerful thrust, buried himself deep inside her.

Papa's cock filled her completely, stretching her, claiming her. She cried out, her body straining, her fingers digging into the velvet cushion beneath her. Once he felt her relax, he began to move, his hips slapping against her ass in a steady, punishing rhythm. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through her, her walls clenching around him, desperate to keep him deep inside. He leaned over her, his gloved hand wrapping around her throat, tilting her head back as he fucked her, his voice a dark, commanding growl in her ear. "Come for me, cara," he ordered, his thumb brushing against her pulse point, "Show me how much you need this cock." She moaned, her body tensing as he hit that sensitive spot inside her, again and again, his fingers tightening around her throat just enough to make her dizzy, to make her vision blur. And then, with a muffled scream, she came, her body convulsing, her pussy gripping around his cock as he continued to fuck her through her orgasm, drawing it out as long as he could.

As her first orgasm subsided, Papa slowed his pace, his cock still buried deep inside her, pulsing with need. He leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear, his voice a low, sultry purr. "That was just the beginning, cara," he promised, his fingers trailing down her spine, making her shudder. "I can feel how greedy your little cunt is, how tight it grips me, how much it wants more. And I am going to give it to you. Over and over again." He withdrew from her, leaving her feeling empty and shaking, before flipping her over onto her back. He pushed her legs apart, his gaze locked on her glistening pussy, as he brought his gloved hand to his mouth, sucking her juices from his fingers, his eyes never leaving hers. "Deliziosa," he murmured, a wicked smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Now, let us see if I can make you come again, hmm?" And with that, he lowered his head, his tongue finding her clit, sucking, licking, as his fingers pushed inside her, fucking her with a relentless, merciless intensity that promised another orgasm, and another, until she was a writhing, screaming mess, completely and utterly consumed by the darkness of her sinful desire.

Papa's eyes were wild with hunger and he continued his relentless assault on her body. His tongue was a wicked, sinful instrument, lashing against her clit with a precision that drove her to the brink of madness. His fingers, still gloved, curled inside her, finding that sweet spot that made her back arch off the velvet cushion, her breath coming in shaky gasps. She could feel another orgasm building, the tension coiling in her core like a snake ready to strike. He looked up at her, his green and white eyes burning into hers, as if daring her to come without his permission. She bit her lip, her fingers tangling in his dark hair, as she fought to hold back, to obey his silent command. But it was no use. With a scream, she came again, her body convulsing, her pussy clamping down on his fingers as he continued to fuck her through her orgasm, leaving her trembling.

As the waves of pleasure finally began to subside, she slumped back against the velvet cushion, her body slick with sweat, her breath coming in ragged pants. Papa sat back on his heels, his gaze locked on her heaving chest, his mouth a smear of black and white paint, a satisfied smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Bellissima," he murmured, his voice a low, appreciative growl. "But I think you can take more, cara." He stood, his cassock rustling, and reached down, grabbing her thighs and pulling her towards him until her ass hung off the edge of the cushion. He pushed her legs wide, spreading them open, exposing her completely. She could feel the cool air against her swollen, sensitive flesh, could see the dark, hungry look in his eyes as he took in the sight of her. He reached down, wrapping his gloved hand around his cock, and she could see the shiny, wet tip, glistening with her arousal. "Are you ready for more, cara?" he growled, his voice a dark, dangerous promise. And as she nodded, her heart racing, her body aching with need, he positioned himself at her entrance, and with a slow, methodical thrust, buried himself deep inside her once more, ready to take her on another rollercoaster ride of sinful pleasure.

As Papa began to move inside her, his cock filling her completely, she could feel the pressure building rapidly, burning in her core. His fiery eyes bored into hers, his gaze intense and unwavering, as if he could see straight into her soul. "Come with me, cara," he commanded, his voice a dark, sultry grunt, his hips moving in a steady, punishing rhythm that had her gasping and moaning beneath him. She could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles tensed and flexed with each thrust, as if he were barely clinging to his last shred of control. Sweat was beading on his forehead, the last of his makeup running down his face, his breath coming in husky gasps, and she knew that he was just as consumed by their passion as she was.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, her heels digging into his ass, urging him on, begging him for more. He growled, a low, animalistic sound that sent shivers down her spine, as he gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh, and began to fuck her with a wild, frenzied intensity that left her breathless. She could feel the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter, the tension in her core becoming almost unbearable, as his cock hit that sensitive spot inside her again and again, his body slapping against hers, their moans and gasps filling the tiny confessional. "Touch yourself, cara," he growled. "As you do when you think of me." With a shaking hand she complied, though in only moment the sensation was too much. And then, with a scream, they came together, their bodies convulsing, her pussy clenching and pulsing in time with his twitching cock, as they rode out the waves of their orgasms. Their eyes locked, their souls entwined in the darkness of their sinful desire.

As their bodies continued to shake with the aftershocks of their shared orgasm, Papa leaned down, his forehead resting against hers, their breaths mingling in the small space. His eyes held a softness she hadn't seen before, a vulnerability that made her heart ache. "You are incredible, cara," he whispered, his voice low, gravely...intimate. "The way your body responds to mine, the fire in your eyes...it is intoxicating." He brushed a stray lock of brown hair from her face, his gloved fingers trailing down her cheek and she leaned into his touch with a breathy sigh. She could feel the weight of his gaze, the intensity of his desire, and it made her feel both powerful and completely at his mercy.

But as quickly as the moment of tenderness had arrived, it vanished, replaced by the dark, commanding presence she had come to expect from him. Papa pulled back, his eyes never leaving hers as he slowly began to peel off his gloves, still soaked with her juices, finally removing his cassock, revealing the lean, muscular body beneath. Her breath hitched in her throat as she took in the sight of him, his pale skin flushed with their shared exertion, the dark hair that peppered his chest like a beautiful tapestry. He reached out, taking her hand and placing it over his heart, his voice a low, dangerous growl. "Do you feel that, cara? That's the sound of a man who is bewitched."

His chest was still heaving from their shared release as he guided her head down towards his lap. His cock, still glistening with their combined juices, stood erect and proud, a testament to his insatiable appetite. She looked up at him, her eyes heavy-lidded and filled with desire, as she parted her lips, wrapping them around his thick, velvety shaft. "That is it, cara," he growled, his voice a low, approving rumble, "Show me how much you love the taste of our sin." He groaned, his fingers tangling in her hair, as she began to suck him, her tongue swirling around the head, tasting the remnants of their passion. She could feel him flinch from the overstimulation, pulling away and leaving her with an emptiness that made her pussy ache with need once more. His hand cupped her chin, his thumb brushing against her cheek, as he watched her with a dark, hungry gaze.

He pulled her up, his lips finding hers in a fierce, passionate kiss, his tongue sweeping into her mouth, tasting himself on her lips. As they broke apart, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, as if he never wanted to let her go. "Stay with me, cara," he murmured, his voice a soft, intimate caress, "Let me hold you, let me care for you, as only a Papa can." And as she melted into his embrace, her body still tingling with the aftermath of their passion, she knew that she would do anything he asked, anything he commanded, just to stay in his arms forever.

As Papa held her close, his heart beating steadily against her cheek, she could feel the weight of his gaze on her, heavy and intense. He reached up, his fingers tracing the contour of her face, before gently stroking her hair. "You know, cara," he began, his voice a low, sultry rumble, "There can be more to our relationship than just the pleasure we find in each other's bodies." He paused, his eyes searching hers, as if looking for any sign of doubt or hesitation. "I want to know everything about you. Your dreams, your fears, your deepest, darkest desires. I want to be more than just your lover, cara. I want to be your confidant, your guide, your Papa in every sense of the word." His voice was a seductive melody, each phrase a note that played on her heartstrings, making her melt even deeper into his embrace. She knew that giving him this kind of power over her could be dangerous, but there was no turning back. She wanted to give him everything he asked for, everything he desired.

As if sensing her internal struggle, Papa pulled back again, his eyes locked on hers, his expression serious. "But you must understand, cara, that this is not a one-sided relationship. I will give you everything you need, everything you crave, but you must also be open and honest with me. You must trust me, completely and utterly, with your body, your mind, your soul." He paused, his thumb brushing against her lower lip, a rough, possessive caress that made her heart race. "Can you do that, cara? Can you give yourself over to me, completely and totally, without reservation or fear?" His commanding voice washed over her like a violent wave, a challenge that knocked the wind out of her. She knew that she was standing on the precipice of a decision that would change her life forever, but as she looked into his eyes, she knew that she was ready to take the leap. She was ready to give herself over to him, to trust him with every fiber of her being, to let him guide her down this path of darkness and desire, wherever it may lead. "Yes, Papa," I whispered, my voice barely audible and trembling. "I trust you." He smiled, a slow, wicked grin that dripped with pleasure and possession. She was his, completely and utterly, and she couldn't wait to see what dark, delicious sins he had in store for her next.

Papa's smile widened, a predatory gleam in his eyes at her response. He stood, lifting her effortlessly in his arms, guiding her legs to wrap around his waist and carried her out of the confessional, the heavy wooden door creaking shut behind them. The chapel was bathed in a soft, ethereal glow from the flickering candles, casting long, dancing shadows across the ancient stone walls. He walked towards the altar, his steps sure and steady, before laying her down on the cold marble surface. The stone was shocking against her skin, a stark contrast to the heat burning within her. He stepped back, his gaze roaming over her body, a slow, appreciative smile curving his lips. "Spread your legs, cara," he commanded, his voice a low, dominant growl. "Let me see that pretty pussy, all swollen and wet from me." She complied, her heart pounding in her chest as she opened myself to him, feeling the cool air against her exposed flesh. He let out a low, appreciative hum, his eyes never leaving hers as he knelt down, his hands gripping her thighs, pulling her towards him. "I am going to worship your body the way that it needs. The way that you deserve." And with that, he leaned in, his tongue finding her clit, sucking, licking. She yelped, still so sensitive from her earlier orgasms. Not able to resist touching her any longer, his fingers pushed inside her again, bare now and calloused from years of playing the guitar, fucking her with slow, torturous intensity that promised the most intense orgasm, one she felt she may never recover from.

As Papa's tongue and fingers worked in tandem, she could feel her body tensing, her breath coming in short, sharp whimpers. The pleasure was intense, a slow-building wave that made here entire body feel alien. He looked up at her, his heterochromatic eyes burning into hers, his mouth glistening with her arousal, and that was all it took to send her tumbling over the edge. She cried out, her back arching, her fingers clawing at the marble beneath her as she came, her body convulsing with the force of her orgasm. He didn't let up, his tongue continuing to lash against her clit, his fingers fucking her through the waves of pleasure that left tears welling up in her eyes.

As the last tremors of her orgasm finally subsided, Papa stood, his naked skin soft against her trembling body, his lean muscles tense under the surface, and gathered her into his arms. He held her close, his body warm and solid against hers, as he carried her away from the altar and towards a small, private chamber hidden behind a heavy velvet curtain. He laid her down on a plush chaise, the soft fabric a stark contrast to the cold, unyielding marble of the altar. He sat beside her, his fingers trailing through her hair, as he watched her with a soft, tender expression. "You did so well, cara," he murmured, his voice low and soft. "I am so proud of you." He leaned down, his lips brushing against her forehead in a soft, chaste kiss, before pulling a blanket over her spent body, tucking it in around her like a mother would a child. "Rest now, cara," he whispered, his voice a soothing lullaby that seemed to wrap around her, pulling her down into a deep, dreamless sleep. "I will be here when you wake." And as she drifted off, surrounded by the scent of his cologne and the faint, distant echo of his voice, she knew that she was exactly where she was meant to be, safe and protected in the arms of her Papa.

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As she stirred from her slumber, she wasn't sure how much time had passed. Hours? Days? She found herself still naked and wrapped in the soft, warm embrace of the blanket, her body deliciously sore from their shared passion. The chamber was dimly lit, the only sound the soft ticking of an ancient clock, and for a moment, she wondered if it had all been a dream. But then, she felt the weight of his gaze on her, heavy and intense, and she turned to find Papa seated in a high-backed armchair, not back in his black cassock, but now in a more casual black t-shirt and ripped jeans, his face now free of the paint she'd always seen him in before. His eyes locked on hers, a cup of steaming tea cradled in his hands. "Ah, you are awake," he murmured, a slow, satisfied smile curving his lips. "I was beginning to think I had worn you out completely." He stood, crossing the room to sit beside her on the chaise, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from her drowsy face. "Here," he said softly, pressing the cup of tea into her hands, "Drink this. It will help you feel more like yourself." She wrapped my fingers around the warm, delicate china, the heat against her hands grounding her. The fragrant steam wafted up to tickle her nostrils and she took a tentative sip. The tea was sweet and soothing, with a hint of something earthy and exotic that she couldn't quite place. As she drank, she felt her body beginning to relax, the tension and soreness melting away like snow in the spring sun.

As she finished the tea, Papa took the empty cup from her hands and set it aside, his fingers tracing the delicate lines of her palm, spreading a warmth throughout her body. "Feeling better?" he asked, his voice a low, intimate rumble. She nodded, "Yes, Papa. Thank you. For everything." She was lost in his eyes as he continued to trace patterns on her skin, his touch light and gentle, yet somehow still commanding. "Bene," he murmured. "But per favore, call me Terzo now."

As Terzo's fingers continued to stroke her tiny hand, she could feel a dull heat spreading throughout her body, a sensation that was both comforting and arousing. She looked up at him, her eyes heavy-lidded and filled with a mix of contentment and desire. "You have a way of making me feel both safe and...hungry...and a little scared," she whispered, her voice barely audible. Terzo chuckled, a low, throaty sound. "Bellissima, cara," he murmured, his voice a sultry purr. "I want you to feel safe, to trust me completely. But I also want you to feel alive, to crave my touch, my kiss, my love." He leaned in closer, his breath hot on her lips, and she could feel the anticipation building, the butterflies in her stomach. "And I want to show you how much I desire you," he continued, his voice dropping to a dark, seductive rumble. "I want to kiss you, to taste you, to pleasure your body in every way imaginable." His fingers trailed up her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their path, as he leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a soft, sensual kiss. It was a kiss that promised more, a kiss that left her wanting, craving more of his touch, more of his passion.

Terzo's hand moved from her hand to her waist, under the blanket to her naked skin, his fingers tracing the curve of her hip, his thumb brushing against the sensitive skin just above her thigh. She could feel the heat of his touch, the electricity that seemed to spark between them, as his fingers inched closer to her most intimate place. She gasped softly, her breath hitching in her throat as his fingers found her already wet and scorching hot to the touch. "You are so responsive, cara," he murmured against her lips, his voice a low, appreciative growl. "I love the way your body reacts to me." His fingers slipped between her soft folds, his touch hot and firm against her skin, as he began to stroke her, his fingers finding her clit and circling it gently. She moaned softly, her body arching into his touch, her hips moving in time with his fingers. Terzo's other hand moved to her breast, his fingers teasing her nipple until it hardened against the callouses.

Terzo's fingers continued their slow, deliberate dance on her clit, his touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body. Her breath grew shallow, her heart pounding in her chest as her body responded to his expert touch. "You are so wet, cara," he murmured, his voice a dark, seductive whisper. "I can feel how much you want to be well-fucked." His fingers slipped inside her, filling her, as he began to finger her with a slow, methodical rhythm, his thumb continuing to circle her clit. "Tell me, cara," he commanded, his voice a low, commanding growl, "What do you want? What do you need?" He looked up at her, his eyes burning into hers, as if daring her to answer. She bit her lip, her fingers tangling in his hair, as she struggled to find the words. "I... I...," she finally managed to whisper, her voice barely audible. "I want you, Terzo. All of you."

Terzo's eyes flashed with a dark, possessive hunger as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her ear. "Oh, cara," he whispered, his voice a low, sultry purr, "I can give you everything you want." His fingers continued to move inside her, his thumb pressing down on her clit, as he leaned back, his eyes locked on hers. "I can make you come, again and again, until you're begging for mercy." He chuckled, a dominant sound that made her shudder. "And then, when you think you cannot take it anymore, I will give you more." His fingers curled inside her, hitting that soft spot that made her back arch off the chaise, her breath coming in whimpering gasps. "But for now," he murmured, his voice a dark, commanding growl, "You will come when I say you can, and you will deny yourself when I tell you to." Fingers pumping harder now, deeper, he brought her to the edge of orgasm, her body tensing, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she begged for release. "Please, Terzo," she breathed. But just as she was about to come, he stopped, his fingers stilling inside her, his thumb pulling away from her pulsing clit.

"Now now, cara. Not yet," he growled against her neck. "I know you can take more than that."

She whimpered pitifully and a wicked grin spread across his face. Only when he felt her pussy start to relax around his fingers did he start to move them again, slowly. Already overstimulated, her body raced to it's breaking point immediately. She bit her lip to try to slow her response, desperate to obey him commands. He snaked his free arm around her waist and pulled her close so she was now straddling his thigh, his fingers still burried inside her. "Now, ride my hand, cara," he commanded, his voice a dark, sultry purr. "Show me how much you want it." She complied, her heart pounding in her chest as she pressed against his body, her hands gripping his shoulders, her hips moving in a slow, sensual rhythm as she began to grind her hips into hand, her body aching with need. "That is it, cara," he murmured, his voice a low, approving rumble, "Take what you need." He looked up at her, his eyes burning with desire, as she continued to ride his hand, his fingers still curling inside her, her clit pressing hard against his palm, the fabric of his jeans rough against her sensitive inner thighs, her body trembling from the sensation. "Now, beg for it," he commanded, his voice a harsh, commanding growl. "Beg for what your body needs." She hesitated for a moment, her breath coming in gasps in time with the rhythm of her hips, before finally whispering, "Please, Terzo...Please let me come." He smiled, a slow, hungry grin. He pulled his fingers out of her abruptly making her yelp in surprise and arousal that bordered on pain, leaving her straddling his thigh, soaking his jeans with her juices. He quickly unzipped his jeans, shifting his hips to pull them down enough to free his throbbing erection.

He guided her hand to his cock, wrapping her fingers around his thick, velvety shaft. "Feel how hard you make me, cara," he commanded, his voice a low, commanding growl. "Now, stroke me, slowly, as if you are worshipping me." She complied, her fingers wrapping around his length, her thumb brushing against the sensitive head, feeling the heat and the pulse of his desire. "That is it, cara," he growled, his voice a low, approving rumble, "Show me how much you want to please your Papa." She continued to stroke him, her eyes locked on his, her body aching with the need to feel him inside her. But Terzo had other plans. "Stop," he commanded, his voice a harsh, commanding growl gripping her wrist to still her hand. She let him slide from her tender grasp and he dug his calloused fingers into her hips, lifting her to position himself just below her entrance, ready to impale her on his cock, to fill her deep and feel her tight grip around him.

"You're so ready for me, cara," he murmured, his voice a strained and hungry, as he guided her down, his cock sliding inside her inch by inch. She moaned, her body stretching to accommodate his thickness, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she settled onto him, feeling him fill her completely. In spite of her burning need, she was grateful for his slowness, fearing that any faster and she would have come undone instantly. "That is it, cara," he growled, his voice a dark, commanding rumble, "Take me all the way." When he felt himself fully inside her he continued to hold her tight against himself, holding her hips still, keeping her relief out of reach. Only when he felt her tension start to ease, felt her stop fighting for control, did he release her hips, an unspoken permission to continue. She moaned, her hips moving in a slow, sensual rhythm as she began to ride him, her body aching with need. "You feel so good, Papa," she whispered, her voice shaky as she looked down at him, her eyes filled with desire. "I want to feel you come inside me." Terzo's eyes flashed with a dark, possessive hunger as he gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh hard enough to bruise, and began to thrust upwards, meeting her movements, their bodies moving in perfect sync. "Oh, cara," he groaned, his voice a low, appreciative rumble, "You are going to make me come so hard." He leaned up, his lips brushing against hers, his tongue sweeping into her mouth, as he continued to fuck her, his hips slapping against hers, their moans and gasps mingling in the small, private chamber. "Hold back and come with me, cara," he commanded, his voice a dark, sultry purr, his hips moving in a steady, punishing rhythm that had her gasping and moaning against him. "I want to feel you come, feel your pussy clench around my cock as you come undone. But not yet." She could feel the pleasure building fast, her whole body shaking, all self-control unravelling, his cock hitting her cervix her again and again. "Please, Terzo," she begged, her voice a desperate whisper, "Please, make me yours." He growled, a low, animalistic sound as he gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh, and began to fuck her with a wild, frenzied intensity that left her breathless. "Not yet, cara," he commanded.

With a low, guttural growl, he flipped her onto her back, his body covering hers as he continued to thrust into her, his cock sliding in and out with a delicious friction that had her moaning and writhing beneath him. "You are so tight, cara," he panted, his breath hot on her face, "So hot and wet. I can't get enough of you." His hips moved faster, his body slapping against hers, the sound of their skin meeting echoing in the small chamber. She struggled to hold back, torn between the release her body was crying for and obeying his command to wait for him. But it was no use. With a scream, she came, her body convulsing, her pussy clamping down on his cock as he continued to fuck her through her orgasm, drawing it out until she was writhing, sobbing beneath him, completely and utterly consumed by the darkness of their sinful desire. As her body finally began to relax, Terzo's own orgasm hit him, his cock pulsing inside her as he filled her with his hot release. He collapsed on top of her, his clothes sticking to his body slick with sweat, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he held her close, their hearts pounding in sync. "You are incredible, cara," he whispered, his voice a gentle intimate rumble, as he rolled off her, pulling her into his arms. "I never want to let you go." She looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mix of contentment and desire. She was his, completely and utterly, and she couldn't wait to see what dark, delicious sins he had in store for her.

.

If you liked this, check out my other smutty fics on AO3. As always, any comment, suggestions, and requests are gratefully appreciated. Thanks for reading!

@kittenburps @blackberries45 @ghoulish45 @thegholdenghoulz @gh0ul-dinner

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