summary: The only way to get your baby to sleep through the night is making a deal with an unholy creature. But, of course, there are consequences...
tags: dark fic, Dub/non con (making a deal with a demon), breastfeeding, nursing, lactation kink, mommy kink? (but not like that), stretch marks, oral sex, unprotected p in v, overstimulation, horns, Ezra is a sex demon, moth never uses y/n
an: Here is my submission to #MothandBirdMothersDayChallenge! Actually this fic is the reason why I wanted to do this challenge. Sometimes when I'm in the dark nursery in the middle of the night, I have fun intrusive thoughts like 'What if there was a shadowy figure in the doorway?' To combat how terrifying that thought is, I took it and made it horny. Thank you @ezrasbirdie for betaing this, helping me do this Mother's Day Challenge, and all around being a cool auntie to my fics and baby Moth.
...
He wakes you every night. It doesn’t matter what you try. Your son hasn't let you have more than three consecutive hours of sleep since he was born.
You’re at your wit’s end.
Every time you look in the mirror you see a hollowed out version of yourself with dark bags under your eyes. You make yourself coffee without putting grounds into the filter. You fly into a tearful rage when you spill a bottle of precious milk. You don’t know who you are anymore.
Tonight’s no different. You lift your crying baby from his crib. Rock him, shush him. You sit with him in the glider and try to nurse him back to sleep. It’s all done bleary-eyed, half asleep. Everything is these days.
You’d give anything for this baby to sleep.
Just as the thought crosses your mind, you look up to see a figure standing just outside the nursery. It’s shadowy against the dark of the hallway, shades of gray on black. From the height and broad shoulders, it could be a man. He stands abnormally still. Silent, watching. You think it’s just a trick of your sleep deprived mind until he moves just slightly and a patch of silver hair is caught in the moonlight.
You must be dreaming because if there was a man in your baby’s room, you’d be terrified. And you’re not. You feel calm like you’re floating on steady waters.
“Who are you?” you ask. Your voice drifts like a lullaby.
He doesn’t respond, just leans in the doorway. All that you can make out is that blonde hair and two eyes that glint at you.
“I’ve come to help you, petal,” he finally says. His voice is warm and melodic.
You feel yourself nodding off for a moment. When you blink yourself awake, he’s by your side.
You can make out his features better now. Dark stubble covers a handsome face. The sharp angles of his nose and jaw are silhouetted in the dim. You smell woodsmoke and frankincense as he comes near. He kneels beside the chair and his brow furrows as he looks up at you.
“You need that child to rest,” he says.
You nod pathetically. You can feel familiar tears well in your eyes. Hopeless, helpless. Desperate.
“I can be of assistance,” he says.
“Don’t hurt him,” you say, holding your son a bit closer to your chest. Your baby might be torturing you in the night but you love him. You won’t let anything happen to him. Even though you’re sure you’re dreaming, you remember old fairy tales, creatures that try to trick and deceive. This man isn’t human, you know that somewhere deep inside you.
“Wouldn’t dream of it. I won’t even touch him. It’s not the babe that’s piqued my interest. It’s his mother,” he explains. His obsidian eyes are on your lips, pink tongue darts out to lick his own.
“Don’t hurt me either,” you say, though there’s no fight in your words.
“That’s not my intention at all. Quite the opposite. You’re so beautiful, petal,” he coos, brushing his knuckles across your jawline.
It must be a dream because you haven’t felt beautiful in a long time. Your body’s been stretched and broken, engorged and swollen. Your hair falls out by the handful. Your breasts reek of sweat and milk, a sickly funk.
“I want you. Carnally,” he says.
The growl in his voice makes warmth pool between your thighs. He looks at you like something divine, an awe over his features. His light touch moves down your neck and over your collarbone sending goosebumps over your skin. You’ve forgotten what it’s like to feel anything other than exhausted, touched in a way that isn’t a demand for food or comfort.
“Let me have that and that boy will slumber like an angel,” he promises. He watches your baby suckling himself back to sleep.
It sounds so good. Suddenly the only thing you want more than a a night’s sleep is for this stranger to pleasure you, to be inside of you. You haven’t felt desire in just about as long as you haven’t slept. You’ve barely been able to shower and feed yourself let alone take care of your own needs.
“Put the child in his cot and go to bed. Tomorrow I’ll come for you and you’ll see,” he says.
“Who are you?” you ask again.
“I’m Ezra,” he whispers.
You wake up in your bed the next morning and you’ve slept like the dead.
That strange dream haunts you but you think of it as nothing more than that. When you put your son down to sleep the next night, you don’t expect any miracles. He goes down easily enough, a nice little fluke, and you decide to turn in early yourself.
Its nearly midnight when you wake up but you realize it’s quiet. The baby isn’t crying for you. You glance at the monitor and see that he’s sleeping soundly, sucking away at this pacifier. Just as Ezra promised.
Relief floods your veins. You put your head back against the pillow and your eyes drift close. As you begin to return to sleep, there’s a shift in the bed and you catch that earthy scent again. You gasp when you see Ezra’s black eyes. He’s beside you, the pad of his thumb tracing the plump of your lower lip. His chest is a wide golden plane littered with white scars, dusted with dark hairs.
“Hush, petal,” he says. “I’ve kept my promise. And now I’ve come to ravish you.”
You want to tell him that you’re tired. You finally have the opportunity to go back to sleep and you shouldn’t let anything come between you and that sweet rest. But the same, strong want that you felt the night before is calling you. An ache runs between your legs up to where Ezra’s hand glides over the delicate skin on your pulse. You're powerless to stop your own desire from sabotaging the one thing you’ve wanted.
A languid sigh leaves you as you melt into his touch.
Ezra sucks at your neck. You’ll have a black and blue mark from his teeth but the sensation is so delicious, you can’t bring yourself to care.
He opens your legs and notches his hips between yours. The friction of his hard cock against your panties makes your back arch.
“I want to taste you,” he says.
He rucks up the ratty old t-shirt that you sleep in along with the nursing bra that’s constantly saturated with leaking milk. He takes a long moment to savor the sight of you so exposed, a smile twitching on his lips. A long, low growl leaves him as he slithers down your body, gathering your breasts in his big hands and bringing his face to nuzzle in your skin.
You hear him inhale deeply, taking in your scent. The stubble of his cheek scratches at your sensitive flesh. One thick finger circles your peaked nipple nice and slow. Your body responds— a bead of milk seeps out and rolls down to the valley between your breasts.
Your breath catches at the mix of sensations. Your cheeks heat and you can’t help the embarrassment that creeps up your spine. Much to your surprise, Ezra’s eyes widen with interest. He lowers himself and traces the wet trail with the flat of his tongue. You can only imagine what he tastes– the musk of your sweat beneath sweet milk. It seems that he likes it. He closes his lips around your nipple and lavishes it with his tongue, groaning into your flesh.
“Shit,” you gasp.
You feel the tingle of letdown behind your breasts, his ministrations summoning more milk. Soon Ezra is drinking from you, grunting and rutting his hips against you. The other, neglected nipple weeps milk and he pauses to lap it up greedily. You tangle your hand into his hair and that’s when you feel it. There’s a raised bump amidst his curls but it’s hard as bone. It sits just above his forehead and stands only an inch high. As your fingers rake through his hair, you find another. Horns.
The terror you expect never comes. He might be something ungodly and all you feel is a building excitement. Everything about this is wrong but the world feels upside down.
He comes away, his plush bottom lip glistening with pearlescent milk. It’s a sight that should repulse you but in the delirium of sleeplessness and lust, it just makes you hungry.
“You are an exquisite creature,” he purrs.
His flat palm skates down your belly where you’re middle still holds baby weight, a reminder that your body is no longer your own. He peels your panties down your thighs. You feel the fine edges of his teeth against your skin. He penetrates you with two exquisitely thick fingers. No warning but you hardly need it— you’re already slick.
You keen, back arching off of the mattress, and the sensation is doubled when he puts his lips to your clit and sucks with the same enthusiasm he had at your breast. His wide shoulders spread your knees to make room for his body. You drown in pleasure, a heady mixture of fire doused in the thick pool of sleepiness. Floating, sinking, cresting on a wave as he licks and spreads you open, presses in deep and coils you tight. It’s hard to believe your body can have such strong responses when you’re barely function in your waking life. Something primal drives you on and Ezra knows just how to unlock it.
“Such a delicacy. To sup on milk and cunt,” he says, barely taking his lips from you.
The swirls and undulations of his tongue and the sweet pressure inside works you into a frenzy. Your breath shortens and then stops altogether, your thighs tighten and you hold your eyes shut, listening to the whimpers and moans between your legs. It’s too much and not enough.
When you come undone, it’s a rush of ecstasy that you want to live in forever. Rolling and gushing and sighing. You choke and arch, your entire body convulsing. Your spine clenches up like you’ve been struck by lighting and the electricity runs out through your fingertips and toes.
“Such a glorious vision,” he muses as you come down, panting and shivering.
Ezra’s eyes are fixated on you, pupils blown so wide they’re nearly black. He looks like he wants to devour you.
You share his hunger. You want more already. You’ve just had a feast and yet you’re starving again.
You see Ezra’s cock now for the first time. Thick and upright, it’s tip, flushed and red. He takes it in his fist, glazing his shaft in your release. There’s something animalistic about it that floods you with another wave of arousal.
“More,” you manage to say.
“Not too tired?” he teases with a wicked smile.
You shake your head. How can you sleep when your body is on fire with lust?
“I’ll fill each needy hole,” he says.
You whine. He lines himself at your entrance.
“You’re a goddess. And I’m going to defile you.”
You're filled to the hilt. The noise that escapes him is animalistic and his eyes lose focus. You’re already fluttering around him, already so close to another climax. He fucks you, the stretch and rhythm making you dizzy.
“This is the closest I’ll get to heaven, I fear,” he revels. “But what could be more divine than this sweet cunt?”
Each word that falls from his lips seems to stroke at your core. His hips drive into you, hands greedily paw at every soft part of your body.
The only thing that quiets his debauched ramblings is suckling at your breast. Your senses are completely overwhelmed. Tears prick in your eyes as your insides tighten, another orgasm shattering through you. You bite down on his shoulder to keep yourself quiet.
“Let me hear,” he demands. “He won’t wake.”
And so you do, crying out as you clench around his thickness, losing all control of your body.
“That’s it, petal. That’s it,” he says.
He goes on thrusting and pins you down, torturing that exquisite spot deep inside of you over and over again. You’re not sure where one climax ends and another begins but you’re possessed.
“If only I could fill that womb, sire one after the other to keep you round,” he grunts.
Ezra swears. He hisses out words in a language you don’t recognize. It sounds like an incantation.
You hardly have time to make sense of it. He’s pulling out of you, grinding his wet length against your thigh and spilling hot ropes onto your mound.
You lay beneath him, boneless and dazed. The exhaustion flushes over your weak body. You sense Ezra at your breast again as your eyes drift closed.
The next thing you know, your baby is crying and it’s morning.
It must be a dream. There’s no other way to explain it— a horned creature slipping in and out of your bedroom in the middle of the night, fucking you senseless when you have no energy left. But you wake up with come drying where he marked you.
That night, he’s back again.
And again after that.
“Ezra, I’m exhausted," you breathe. "Please.”
“Isn’t this what you wanted, petal?”
Now your son sleeps soundly through the night while you are awake, debauched for hours without end.
He’s insatiable and somehow you are, too.
He fucks you until you’re raw. Your legs quiver and burn from being parted so wide. Your pussy feels battered and bruised. You beg him to fuck your ass just to give your cunt some rest.
And although your body feels like it can’t take another second of pleasure, though it begs for a moment’s peace, every time he comes to you, you’re flooded with arousal.
When you try to steal an afternoon nap, he’s there, cock already standing in his fist.
Spittle dribbles from the corners of your lips as he fucks your mouth. It runs down your chest, your knees already bruised from the hours you’ve spent on them. You try to chase your own relief, grinding your hips against the floor. He pulls you by the ears to sink deeper down your throat.
He grunts and moans and howls as he comes between your lips.
He doesn’t always take.
The next time he makes you come four times.
“Again, again,” he chants into your ear. His words are hot breath as his fingers press inside of you overwhelming that ridge that sends you reeling. Your bodies are pressed together, sticky with perspiration and release and drool and milk.
“I can’t,” you sob, your body sore and stretched to its limit.
You’re so spent, so overstimulated, each orgasm takes more and more effort. But Ezra refuses to quit, punishing you until you reach a fearsome crescendo.
“Oh, my petal, but I know you are more than capable.”
He’s right. You can feel the weak muscles in your core begin to twist. You hold your breath and focus on the brutal sensations Ezra gives you.
“Besides, your ability is immaterial,” he goes on. “These were the terms of our deal. This cunt. Is. Mine.”
Despite the fact that you’re so exhausted you can barely remember your own name, hardly able to stand on your own two feel, the climax that hits you is just as monumental as the very first.
“Have you endured enough tonight, petal?” he asks, sucking the gush of slick off of his fingers.
“Please,” you whimper. “Please.”
You’re not sure if you’re begging him to stop or to keep going.
“Tomorrow, petal,” he promises. “Now get some rest.”
He wakes you. Every night.
...
Comments and reblogs are appreciated! My asks are always open and I don't bite (unless you're into that).
Warnings: Blasphemy, inaccuracies with nuns/religious inaccuracies, religious guilt, lust, desire, demonic possession, dark intentions, sexual corruption, loss of innocence, virgin reader, oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, derogatory language, sex in a confessional, cock riding, pregnancy, mentions of prophesy, end of times, unnatural childbirth, death
Comments: The new priest's arrival to your parish has you doubting your commitment to God.
A/N: Spooky season demands horror.
Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers
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|| MasterList || Ezra (Prospect) MasterList ||
Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.
You remember the day you first met him. The new priest. You were just finishing up your prayers when he strode in, a wide grin on his face, and your fellow nuns looked up at him from their bibles. Your eyes widened and your first thought was how handsome he is. His dark eyes are gorgeous and your stomach clenched. You immediately looked back down at your bible, asking God for forgiveness for your lust.
“Praise be to God for such a beautiful sight for sinful eyes.” Ezra smiles as he takes in the sight of the nuns bent over in prayer, his eyes flashing slightly before they settle into a benevolent expression. “Forgive my brash introduction, my name is Ezra. I believe that the Monsignor has assigned this flock to be guided by my firm and loving hand.”
You shouldn’t be feeling this way. The tightening in your stomach, the wetness between your thighs, but his presence has forever changed you. When you joined the abbey, you prayed for happiness, for peace away from your violent father, and sought refuge in the only place you could run to without money. You were prepared to dedicate your life and your body to God. You were ready to sacrifice your dream of marriage and children in pursuit of a holier purpose. This man arriving has put your decision in doubt. He left the circle of women, striding off with the bishop to see his new quarters. Your friend, Natalia, looked over at you with raised eyebrows but you shook your head, trying to rid yourself of your lustful thoughts. It’s a sin.
****
It’s been a few days since Father Ezra arrived and you have been working hard with the children in the school. You teach the younger ones reading and writing skills and you are heading back to your room when you bump into him. Literally. “Father Ezra. Apologies. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You confess, lowering your hand from his chest as you step back to look at him.
“Do not worry about extending apologies, little bird.” Ezra hums, nodding to with a charming smile that he knows lowers defenses. “A humble mistake is not any reason to fret. Where are you off to in such a hurry?” It might be considered ungentlemanly to ask, but even though he is a man of the cloth, Ezra has never considered himself a gentleman. He is too raw for that. “Needing some time on your knees?”
You swallow, your throat suddenly dry as you imagine sinking down to your knees in front of him. “Ye-yes. I must pray today. My thoughts have been…sinful.” You confess, “I need to pray and ask for forgiveness, Father.” You admit, unable to stop yourself from looking up at him from under your lashes.
Ezra frowns, feigning concern as he leans closer, cupping your elbow. “My child, do you wish to confess?” He asks, his voice slipping low and taking on a seductive tone. “Releasing you from your ….. burdens always makes them seem insignificant once you are sated, purged of the sin.”
Your mouth drops open at the tone of his voice and it’s seductive, making your stomach twist and your cunt clench. This is wrong. So wrong. “I- I cannot confess what I am feeling when I have not felt it before, Father. I must - I must go.” You choke out, ripping your elbow from his grip and you rush down the hall. When you arrive at your door, you slam it behind you and rush over to the bed, pushing your dress up, your fingers slip beneath the elastic of your panties and you cover your mouth to stop your moan when your fingers brush your clit. “God forgive me.” You plead into your palm as you imagine Ezra’s fingers inside you.
If you had turned around, you would have seen Ezra’s eyes turn black as night, the whites of his eyes gone. The demon inside chuckling at the confusion and turmoil brewing inside you. “That is my little bird.” He hums to himself, knowing you are perfect. Blinking and his eyes change back to normal, adopting a peaceful smile as he continues to walk down the hall past your room just in time to hear your muffled moan.
****
Your fingers grip your skirt as you sit in the pew, Father Ezra is giving his sermon to the congregation and you can't help but focus on his thick fingers as he gestures while he speaks. His voice is deep, slightly raspy from the damp that lingers in the church, and you squeeze your thighs together. You shouldn't feel this way but he's haunted you. The way he smells as he passes you in the hall. The chuckle that vibrates through you. The dark eyes that seem to see right through you. You have touched yourself and begged the Lord to forgive you.
“Have you gotten on your knees today?” Ezra asks the crowd of church goers, but his eyes focus on the rows that house the nuns. Searching for one in particular. Watching as your shoulders curl in shame. He has not seen you in confession, nor heard your voice. He would know if you had been in there, he had volunteered to take every shift lately, just to see if you would confess. “Have you laid yourself bare for the Holy Spirit to enter you?”
A squeak escapes your lips and Natalia looks over at you, her eyebrows raised, and you shake your head, focusing on the wooden pew in front of you. Ezra's words made your cunt clench and you nearly rip your skirt as you try to focus on the Lord and not on his mouthpiece who is making you feel hot under your headpiece.
“You should be Lord’s vessel. Let him fill you. Take pleasure from it.” Ezra’s lips curl when your eyes widen and your head dips lower. Imagining the dirty thoughts that are flowing through your innocent mind. The audience nods along, and he hums. “To do so will bring you joy, such joy that you will be screaming to the heavens.”
You swallow harshly, shifting on the uncomfortable wooden pew, and you imagine Ezra looming above you, making you scream. Your impure thoughts should make the Lord strike you here and now, but you remain in your place, imagining dirty things while Ezra’s voice echoes in your ears.
He sees you squirm, satisfied that he has curled under your skin and poked at the awakening desires that you have long tamped down. He knows his face is appealing, his body - though it is clothed in the boring robes of a priest - is fit and healthy. He is attractive and he knows how to use that against you. “There is no shame in seeking out the Lord.” He coos. “Come closer and you will be rewarded.”
It seems to take forever but soon, Ezra is stepping down from the pulpit and shaking the hands of the congregation while the nuns stand and greet other worshippers. Some children from the school are with their parents and a couple come over to you with their son, Victor. “Oh Victor comes home and rambles on and on about his favorite teacher.” His mom coos and you smile, “he’s a wonderful student. We are lucky to have him.” His mom tuts, “the children are lucky to have you- oh, Father. Please, you must hear this. Victor simply adores his favorite teacher. You must ensure she is rewarded somehow.”
Ezra smiles, his eyes alight with delight as he takes the woman’s hand and holds it in his. “Of course I will.” He winks at Victor, who frowns at the priest. He doesn’t like Ezra, although he is always told to hush when he says such things. Ezra says your name breezily; his tongue rolling over the letters like honey. “-is a fine nun. One of my best.” He adds, looking towards you. “So giving, so obedient.”
You barely suppress your shiver at his words and he leans a little closer to you or did you imagine that? “I try to serve the Lord as best I can.” You offer Victor and his parents a smile before they bid you goodbye, leaving you with Father Ezra. “That was very nice of you, Father.” You murmur, keeping your gaze across the room until you turn to look at him and those dark eyes capture you in their depths.
He tilts his head in curiosity. “You do not think you deserve a reward?” He asks, surprised by the fact you had not leapt at the chance. “No.” You shake your head and he tuts. “Everyone deserves rewards for their good deeds.” He purrs, reaching for your hand and clasping it between his. Despite looking completely innocent to the others passing by, his finger strokes your palm gently.
You inhale shakily, your eyes on his as he smiles softly. “I do not deserve a reward. I have sinned. I need a punishment. I think…I wish to confess to my sins, Father.” You murmur and his smile turns into a smirk, “I shall be in the booth in ten minutes.” You nod, hands hot when he releases one of them, and he makes his way through the crowd. Your heart is pounding and you know you need to confess so you may repent for your lustful thoughts.
Ezra slides into the booth, ignoring taking sacrament for himself like he always does and opens the door that connects the confessional. Eagerly awaiting your arrival to hear what sins you have committed.
You watch as the congregation leaves and you inhale deeply as you make your way to the booth. It appears that no one wants to confess today so you are alone when you pull the curtain aside and settle on the hard bench. You make a cross on your chest and close your eyes, “bless me Father for I have sinned. It’s been three weeks and two days since I last confessed.” Funnily enough, that was the same time Ezra arrived.
“That is a long time, little bird.” Ezra tuts softly, noting that you had confessed right before he had arrived. “Surely your sins are not so great as to be such a burden on your shoulders. Tell me of them.”
Your stomach twists and you fidget on the seat. “I- I have lustful thoughts. Constantly. I see - I see this man and it’s - it’s like I cannot control myself. I find myself getting…getting wet and I dream about him. I wake up aching and I have to relieve myself. I have sinned by touching myself. I feel like I’m out of control. Driven by lust and I need relief. I need God to take these feelings away from me so I can focus on being Godly, on being a good girl.”
“What do you imagine doing with this man?” He asks, his voice slipping lower as he leans into the screen. “What have you imagined doing to him, or him to you that would inspire such actions?”
His deep voice makes you shiver and you lean closer to the screen that separates you from him. “I imagine…him touching me. Me touching him.” You confess with an almost whisper. “Touching?” He hums and you swallow, “I think about kneeling down and-” Ezra smirks but you can’t see, “and?” You inhale shakily, “taking his penis into my mouth. I imagine him touching me. Squeezing my - my breasts and sliding his hand into my pa-panties.” You manage to squeak out.
Ezra’s cock twitches, smirking to himself as he hums. “You imagine this man having sex with you?” He asks. “Carnal lust? Have you ever sinned like this before or are you pure?” It’s simply to know, to see if you will tell him the truth. He knows you are innocent and he likes that.
You grip your skirt in your fingers, almost ripping the material as you confess softly, “I am pure. I- I imagine him having sex with me. Taking me like - like a whore.” You admit, “please forgive me.” You rush out, knowing you shouldn’t be feeling like this.
“It is not my place to forgive you, or judge you.” He reminds you. “I am just as flawed as you. Burdened by the same temptations of the flesh.” He licks his lips. “Pleasure was created by God. We are made in his image. So God must understand our lust.”
You nod, agreeing with Father Ezra, "so what do I do? I took a vow, pledged myself to the Lord and I am struggling to maintain that vow. The devil beckons me to the darkness and I am slipping, the temptation is too much." You confess breathlessly.
“You must spend time with this man.” Ezra councils. “Learn that he is flawed like you. Spend as much time with him as you can. Acclimate to your desires.”
You nod despite him not being able to see you. "Father...if that is your suggestion, may we begin bible study together? I wish to spend time with you." You confess your attraction to him with burning cheeks but you need to quell the desire you have for him.
Ezra makes a faux sound of surprise, as if he was unaware of your thoughts towards him. “Little bird, come to my quarters tonight.” He urges you. “Together we will conquer this temptation.”
You sigh a little in relief, “I will bring my bible and my rosary, Father.” You promise and you don’t see the grin on his face as he dismisses you. The rest of the day seems to drag and you are reprimanded by the abbess until you are finished with your work. You exhale shakily as you make your way down the halls to Father Ezra’s quarters. Bible in hand as you knock on his door.
Ezra opens the door, a small smile on his face as he greets you. “Come in.” He motions you inside his apartment and closes the door behind you. His frock has been set aside, dressed in casual clothes as he moves towards the small kitchen. “Would you like some tea?” He offers.
You glance around at his place, so much bigger than your shared room, and you nod, "that would be lovely." You set your bible down on the table and he gestures for you to sit. You go to pull out the chair but he shakes his head, "sit on the sofa. Much more comfortable." Your stomach twists and you take a seat, adjusting your skirt.
Ezra busies himself, pouring the tea that he had already made and brings two cups over to the sofa to sit beside you. “So. I think we should address the elephant in the room.” He chuckles quietly, setting the cups down on the coffee table and he puts his hand on your knee. “You are sexually attracted to me.” He hums bluntly. “And I find you to be a most ravishing creature, fueling impure thoughts as I stroke my cock at night.”
Your eyes widen as you look at him, his face calm and neutral as he speaks and your cunt clenches at the dark look in his eye that gives away his desires. “Tell me about them.” You plead breathlessly, wanting to hear more from his lips.
He nods seriously, even though he is giddy that you are playing into his hands. His thumb brushes your knee gently, moving up slightly under your skirt. “Your bare body, spread out for me to worship. That’s what I would be doing. Worshiping you with my tongue, my lips. Tasting your sex and licking you until you are weeping my name.” His voice is set at a low growl, watching you intently as he speaks. “Sucking at your breasts, kissing your lips, covering you with my seed.”
You whimper, unable to stop yourself, and you watch him as he licks his lips almost as if he’s tasting you already. “God forgive me.” You choke, shifting to stand up but his grip on your knee tightens, “God will forgive you. This is natural, little bird. You are Eve. I am Adam.” He murmurs, leaning closer and you breathe him in. “It’s natural.” You repeat his reasoning, “it’s how it should be.” You murmur, eyes flicking down to his lips. “The way God intended.” Ezra hums and you choke, “God forgive us.” You gasp and surge forward, pressing your lips to his.
Ezra groans in triumph, pulling you close as your lips collide with his. It’s inelegant, unpracticed, but that just makes the sensation even more intoxicating. Feeling your breath catch in your throat when his tongue slides along your lips, your gasp gives him the access he craves. Devouring your innocence and stripping it away from you. Your breasts are pressed against his chest and he immediately pulls off your veil, uncovering your hair and running his hands over it possessively.
You moan into his mouth, your fingers gripping his shirt in a desperate need to get closer to him. His tongue slides against yours and you desperately want to be good for him. To please him like he’s God himself. Your hands caress his chest, eager to touch every part of him you can reach.
Ezra licks into your mouth for a long moment, until you are panting and he pulls away. “Get on your knees for me, little bird.” He coos, stroking your cheek and running his thumb over your lips. “Your wish of sucking my cock will come true. The supplication of your mouth shall make your cunt drip like a river of honey.”
You know you should get up and leave but you can’t. It’s like something is holding you there and you can’t help yourself. You shift onto your knees, eager for him and you watch as he chuckles, reaching for his belt.
Ezra smirks as he flicks the leather out of the loops of his pants. “My little bird, on her knees waiting for me to fill her mouth.” He coos, pulling the belt free and then unbuttoning his trousers to unzip them.
You have never seen a naked man in real life. You’ve seen photos, art mainly, and your eyes widen when you see his cock. He’s thick and the tip of him is red as he hardens in front of your face. “Tell me what to do.” You demand, wanting to please him.
Reaching for your hand, he helps you wrap your fingers around his length. Groaning your name as he moves it up down his shaft slowly. “Just like this.” He instructs. “Firmly. Feel how hard I am for you?”
You watch in rapture, feeling the hot velvety length of his cock in your grip and you want to please him. Your panties are slick, almost uncomfortable as you look up at him. “I did this to you?” You ask, biting your lower lip as you try to concentrate.
“You have brought me to this point of aching need.” He groans, nodding.
You whimper at his words, leaning forward, “I want to taste you.” You naively wrap your lips around the head, surprised at the salty taste, but you hum, enjoying it and his reaction as his chest heaves.
Ezra grits his teeth together, his fingers curling around your hair and he barely resists pulling it. “That’s it, little bird.” He hisses through his teeth, narrowing his vision on where you are lapping at the tip innocently.
“Supplicate yourself like a whore. Open your mouth wider and worship my cock like it is your god.”
Your cunt clenches at his words and you open your mouth wider, taking his cock deeper into your mouth. You moan, closing your eyes but his voice snaps at you, “eyes on me.” You look up at him and inhale sharply, nearly choking on him when you see his eyes flash black for a brief moment until they return back to the deep brown. His hand caresses your cheek and you focus on his cock again, gripping the length you can’t fit into your mouth.
He can smell how wet you are. “You dreamed of this, little bird. Serving me like this. On your knees like the common whore you want to be. Your pretty little untouched cunt weeping for my cock to fill it.” He groans, smirking down at you. “Hmmm, that’s right. I know you want me to stretch you out on my cock. Ruin you. Make you ache while you say your Hail Mary’s.”
You moan around his cock, knowing you should be struck for thinking these things let alone doing them. You'd be dripping onto the floor if you weren't wearing panties. You grip his cock a little harder and he hisses, making you loosen your grip.
“No.” Ezra grunts, grabbing your chin and squeezing. “Don’t let up.” He urges you. “Your mouth would bring me to my knees if I were standing. Such innocent debauchery.”
His words have your heartbeat sounding in your ears and you feel like you’re on fire. You moan around him and squeeze his cock again. When you take him too deep, you choke, spit flying as you sputter and he tuts, “you can do it, little bird.” You catch your breath and take him back into your mouth.
He watches in rapture as your throat stretches around him. Sliding his hand down to feel the bulge of your neck and groaning your name filthily. “No greater beauty to witness than your sin.”
His words make you whimper around him and you slide your hand down to cup his balls, acting on instinct, and you moan when he tilts his head back, displaying his neck as he groans. You want to taste him. All of him.
The sound that pour out of his mouth are filthy; worthy of any porno that could be produced and he starts to rock his hips up. “Just a cock hungry little whore, aren’t you?” He growls, gripping your shoulder as he leans back. “Singing praises to god but daydreaming about drinking my cum down with that same mouth.”
You want him to fall apart for you, to spill down your throat, to fill you with your sins. His fingers dig into your shoulder and you don’t get a warning when he lets out a strangled cry as he starts to cum. Hot spurts of seed hit the back of your throat and you struggle to swallow as he grabs the back of your head to keep you in place.
His growls are feral, dark. Eyes closed so you don’t see the darkness inside him. Enjoying the way your throat closes around him. Drinking him down and gasping around his length when you are overwhelmed by how much he is cumming.
You sputter as it becomes too much, cum dripping down your chin, and you look up at him as his fist clenched and his grip on your neck starts to hurt. “Father.” You gasp when he pulls his cock from your mouth, “Ezra.”
“Now it is your turn, little bird.” He smirks, grabbing your hand and pulling you to your feet to drag you towards his bed. Unlike the ones in the nun’s rooms, he has a full sized bed so there is more room to stretch out.
You stumble as he drags you until he spins you and pushes you down on the bed. Your body is heated, desperate for him to strip you down and ruin you. You’re already sinned. You are all in. “Ezra.” You gasp when his hands drag the shift from your body.
You are his. Ezra hums as he looks down on you. His hands sliding over your body greedily. Gorging himself on the feel of your flesh beneath his hands. “More beautiful than the heavens.” He coos softly. “Surely your body was created by a being of pleasure.”
His words wash over you and you shiver under his touch, “we are all created in His image.” You murmur, eyes opening to look up as he looms above you. He looks like an angel and devil all wrapped in one and you are prepared to let him destroy you.
His own clothes are shredded from his frame. Eager to debase you, defile you. He wraps his hand around his still softened cock and squeezes it. “Now you must learn why the church forbids making love with your mouth.” He smirks. “Because no one would want to stop.”
You watch as he kneels on the bed and almost slithers up your legs like the snake who seduced Eve and you can understand her when Ezra settles between your legs. His dark eyes trail along your body and he pushes your thighs apart. "Don't be embarrassed, little bird. You are made from Him. You are mine." He groans and leans closer to nudge your folds with his nose. Looking up at you with a smirk and your chest heaves at the shine on the tip of his aquiline nose. "Shit." You curse, unable to find the words.
He watches as he opens his mouth and slowly devours you. Taking your cunt into his mouth like he is biting into the juiciest peach. Groaning at your silky innocence. The surprise in your eyes when the sublime sensation of his tongue slides through your folds for the first time. He hums as he teases you with the slow, luxurious assault.
You can't stop the moan that escapes your lips if you try. Your back arches as a wetness you've never experienced between your legs makes you cry out. He's slow and methodical, making you whimper in response. "Ezra." You gasp, when he flicks the tip of his tongue over your clit.
He chuckles and pulls away just long enough to see a pout starting to form on your lips. “Father Ezra.” He corrects, lips twisting into a wicked grin. “My dear, sweet sister.”
His words, albeit innocent in another context, make you shudder with lust. So devilish. "Father Ezra." You moan, "please." You beg, needing his mouth back on your clit.
“As you command.” He winks at you and starts to devour you again. This time making it filthy. Pulling sounds from your cunt by the slide of his tongue and adding his own sounds to make it sound even more wicked.
He sucks on your fold, pulling it up and you whine at the sensation. It's more than you've ever done to yourself when you guiltily slid your hand into your panties at night when Natalia slept. Your fingers on one hand tangle in his hair while the other hand squeezes your breast, lost in the pleasure.
You give yourself completely over to the sensations, to the sin of lust. Making Ezra growl as he pushes his tongue inside your cunt, his nose pressed to your clit as he spears the muscle inside you.
You have read about heaven in so many ways but never have you read about reaching heaven before death. On a man's tongue. You swear you see angels as he laps deep inside your pussy and sends you soaring. "Oh God." You gasp, thighs squeezing his head and he pulls back for a second, "God ain't here, little bird. I am." He smirks before he dives back in and his sinful nature makes your stomach clench. "Fuck." You curse, the word feeling foreign but so right for the moment.
He smirks into your sex, knowing that soon enough you will be crying out that word again and again. When he fills you with his cock and actually fucks you. Claiming you for himself and stealing you from God. Now, he grips your hips and eats your cunt like he is starved for it. Pushing you closer to the edge with every flick of his tongue.
You feel like your heart is about to beat out of your chest but in the best way. You tug on his hair, pushing him impossibly further into your sex and he growls, the vibrations making your eyes roll into the back of your head. "Ez- Father Ezra!" You cry, panting as you fall apart for him, his tongue squashed by your clenching walls as you shake for him.
Your cunt gushes for him. Flooding his mouth, his face, with your juices. Gifting hun with the rewards of making you cum just like he had earlier. His cock is hard again, pressing against the bed and leaking all over the sheets as he works you through your first orgasm by another person.
You sigh in bliss, feeling boneless, and Ezra smirks as he looks up at you. “Good, little bird?” You nod, “so good. I- I want more.” You declare, greedy for him, for the pleasure you’ve denied yourself for so long.
He grins, triumphant and eager to slide inside you before you change your mind. He nods and slithers back up your body, kissing your lips and letting you taste yourself.
You grab his cheeks, sliding your tongue against his, and you feel his hard cock pressing into your thigh as he hovers over you. “Make me yours. Take what belongs to you.” You demand, wanton as the pleasure lingers.
The permission granted, Ezra growls your name, moving his hand between your bodies to position himself at your virgin entrance. “Mine, little bird. Your wings are clipped and in my cage you shall remain.”
His words make you moan and he starts to push himself into you. Your moan turns into a gasp, slightly pained, as he starts to stretch you out. “Oh God.” You murmur, closing your eyes as you try to breathe.
“God isn’t here.” He reminds you, voice raspy and dark. He feels the resistance your body give, pausing for a second before he snaps his hips forward and buries himself to the hilt.
Your cry of pain is swallowed by him when he surges down to press his lips to yours. “It’s okay, little bird.” He promises, pecking your lips, and you whimper into his mouth while his hand caresses your slide, sliding up to squeeze your breast.
You feel like a glove, hot and tight around him. Fitted to his cock perfectly. Ezra groans your name. “Perfection.” He praises breathlessly. “You are the epitome of perfection. Exactly as you were intended, impaled on my cock and filled with me.”
You moan at his words, dripping in lust and sin, and you are his now. Your vow to God long forgotten as you clench around his cock, adjusting to the foreign feel of his thickness stretching you out. “Corrupt me. Ruin me.” You beg, lifting your legs to push on his ass with your heels.
He smirks as he starts to move. Hearing exactly what he wanted to hear coming out of your mouth. He grunts, filth starting to pour out of him as he rocks his hips. “Such a tight little cunt. Squeezing around my cock. A natural slut, just begging for me to fuck you, aren’t you? Yeah, you’re my slut now.”
You whimper, unable to stop yourself as you nod, “yes. Yes. Yours. Please, Father Ezra. Take what is yours.” You plead pathetically, losing your dignity as he thrusts into you. You whine when he pushes deep and your hands slide along his back, “I’m yours.”
Ezra loses himself in you. Your whimpers and whines of pleasure spur him on. Pumping deep and hard into your tight cunt and loving the way your body takes him. He growls in your ear, bites along your jaw and hisses in pleasure when your walls flutter around him.
You can do nothing but submit to him. Letting him use your body for his pleasure. His cock pushes deep and you whimper when he kisses along your jaw. “Oh God.” You gasp when he lowers his hips and pelvis rubs against your clit.
He chuckles and bites your lip. “Better than god, my sweet little one.” He coos. “God doesn’t make you feel like this.”
“N-no. He doesn’t. Have never felt like this before. Shit. It’s so good. Sinning feels so good.” You confess against his chin, moaning his name again. “Faith has never made me feel like my body is on fire.”
“It can’t.” He agrees. “It’s too selfish to provide you with pleasure like this.” He leans down and kisses you again, sliding his tongue into your mouth while his hand slips between your bodies. Eager to feel you cum on his cock.
His fingers on your clit has you clenching around his cock, your moan swallowed by his tongue, and your nails scratch down his back. He rocks into you, his fingers rubbing your clit, and you are so close. The same feeling you've experienced when you've sinned in your bed in the middle of the night. This is more intense than that. "Fuck." You moan, wrapping your legs around his hips as he pushes deep and it only takes another swipe of his fingers before you fall apart beneath him.
His grin twists wickedly. Grunting in satisfaction as your walls quiver around him, soaking him in squelching gushes. “That’s it. That’s it, girl.” He growls, pulling his hand away to brace his weight over you. His other hand pushing one of your legs back towards your stomach.
Your mouth is open but no noise comes from you as he continues thrusting into you. Your breath is stolen from you when he growls, pushing deep, and he starts to pulse inside you. "Fill me. Destroy me. Claim me." You gasp, needing to feel him.
Ezra hisses, the sound inhuman as he pounds into you. “You’re mine.” He promises. “Until the end of time, you are mine. Not God’s. Never God’s. MINE!” With a roar, he pushes deep, painting your womb with his seed and grunting harshly as he buried his face in your neck.
Your mind is blank to anything but Ezra. Your body belongs to him and you moan his name when he kisses down your neck. “I’m yours. Yours. Only yours.” You vow as he rocks himself through his orgasm. You caress his back, trying to come back to yourself as you feel boneless.
He knows that your womb has been filled. His mission has been accomplished and there is no way for you to turn back now. Ezra kisses your lips again and smirks.
You relax beneath him, mind whirling with the pleasure and the lust you feel for the man above you. He pulls back and you offer him a lazy smile, eyes still glazed over. “Can we do that again?” You ask breathlessly, wanting to have him inside you, making you see heaven, over and over again.
“As many times as you want.” He hums. Twitching inside you. “The craving for more will just grow as time goes on. The need for it will become addictive.”
You caress his back and hum, knowing you’ll want him again and again. “God help me.” You giggle, knowing you’ve unleashed a monster that will crave him now.
****
“Fuck, Ez. Keep - keep going.” You cry out, gripping his headboard as he pushes into you from behind. It’s been a week of sneaking into his quarters at night. Lust driving your thoughts and actions, making you think about him during bible study. Watching him as he gives his homily. Wet as his eyes meet yours. “That’s it, little bird. Take it. Take what I give you.” He growls, his fingers digging into your hips. It doesn’t take long for you to fall apart, Ezra following you as he fills you up with his hot seed.
****
“Father. I’d like to confess.” You murmur to Ezra once he finishes bidding the congregation goodbye after the mass. “I have sinned.”
Ezra adopts a very concerned look as he glances around, touching your elbow and guiding you away from where the altar boys are extinguishing the candles. “My sweet sister, I cannot believe that you have done anything to warrant such a statement.” He murmurs ironically since you had listened to his sermon with his cum crusting your pussy, dripping into your panties.
You let him guide you over to the booth and you smirk knowing that no one is watching. “Come, unburden yourself.” Ezra says as you settle into the booth and he sits on the other side, opening the door that separates the booths. “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” You confess, looking at him with wide eyes. “Tell me what you have done, sweet sister.” He murmurs and you smirk, standing up and shifting to straddle him. “I have taken a man inside me. Over and over again. I crave his cock. His pleasure. I want him to fill me again and again until I can’t take it anymore. I want him to fuck me like he’s fucked me so many times.” You lean in to kiss his jaw between your words.
He chuckles quietly, running his hands down and squeezing your ass as he rocks you on top of his cock. “Is that so?” He hums, turning and pressing his lips to yours. “Why have you turned so craven, sister? What inspires you to want this man?”
“His smile. His eyes. His laugh. His strong arms. His intelligence. His fingers. His tongue. His cock.” You grin, grinding down onto him as you slide your tongue along his lower lip, knowing you could be caught but you don’t care.
Ezra groans. So pleased with your dive into pleasure. You have become so addicted to the carnal lust that swims between you. Every day his cock pounds into you, sometimes with his hand over your mouth to keep from screaming too loudly. “And does he want you just as much?” He asks with a smirk.
“I like to think so.” You murmur, kissing his upper lip, “unless his hard cock is because he’s thinking of someone else.” You reach down between you to squeeze his cock through his pants.
“No one else could occupy my thoughts.” He twitches against your palm and he rocks his hips up. “You should get on your knees and repent for your sin.” He grunts, leaning in and kissing you. “Reciting your catechisms with your mouth full.”
You peck his lips, “there’s no room in here unless I am outside the booth. I want you inside me. Now.” You fumble with his belt, wanting him to fuck you. Cum inside you again. Let me repent with you inside me, I can give you my Hail Mary’s.”
He chuckles, not stopping you and his hands slide under your habit. “No underwear.” He tuts, clicking his tongue in mock disapproval. “Someone was thinking of sinning when they dressed.”
You moan when his fingers slide through your folds and you rock down onto his digits as you snake your hand into his pants to pull his hard cock out. “What got you so hard, Father?” You coo playfully, leaning in to kiss his jaw.
“A sinner.” He pants, twitching in your grip. “A filthy little whore who pretends to be so pious, so godly.” He chuckles. “She is depraved.”
You giggle, kissing along his jaw, “I am depraved. Thinking about you all the time. Have me addicted to you, Father Ezra. I’m your whore. Your sinner.” You tease as you squeeze him and shift your hips higher, “let me ride you.”
Ezra nods, turning and kissing your chin as you position yourself. Groaning your name quietly as you sink down on him. The familiar heat of your pussy surrounding him and squeezing him tight.
“Shit.” You curse as he stretches you out. You are breathless every time he is inside you and you caress his chest over his shirt, sliding your hands up to his dog collar. “A man of the cloth.” You scoff, “you enjoy being inside me. Taking what you want. Fuck God.” You whisper harshly.
He chuckles wickedly. “You have no idea, sweetheart.” He coos, eyes flashing inky black for a moment but you don’t notice, too entranced by how his cock shreds up inside your tight cunt.
You grip his collar as you start to move, grinding down onto his cock with a muffled moan as you kiss his jaw. “Jesus.” You murmur, now unable to hold yourself back from cursing the Lord. He’s unleashed something from inside you and you can’t put it back in its place. Your vow to God has been forgotten as you worship Ezra and his body.
He surges up and presses his lips to yours, not wanting hear that name from your mouth right now. He would rather swallow your moans and feel your body shake in pleasure that he promises you, right here in this confessional.
You know you could be caught right here in the confessional but you don’t care. You grind down onto his cock, moaning when he hits deep, and you whimper when he rocks his hips up into you. “Oh God. Yes.” You hiss, reaching for his hand to bring it under your bunched up skirt to push his digits against your clit.
He growls, biting down on your lip and hissing as he starts to rub. Wanting to feel you come apart on his cock. Wanting to feel the heat of your orgasm.
You surge forward to press your lips to his, wanting to smother your cry as your walls flutter around his cock. He’s so good inside you and you can’t seem to get enough of him. He hisses as you start to cum, jerking on top of him as you clamp down on his cock.
The couplings have been so fierce, so wild that Ezra starts to cum right after you do. Filling you up again and moaning into your mouth.
You feel him twitch inside you and you cup his cheeks, keeping him close as you rock your hips to ride through your orgasm. You love it. The feeling of bliss. The blankness in your mind. It’s addictive. He’s addictive. “I love you.” You breathe into his mouth, unable to stop yourself.
He had been waiting for you to say that. Feeling the shift in your emotions, the way you kiss him. He pulls back and gives you the very best performance of his life. “Little bird, I love you.” He whispers breathlessly. “I have no yearning for the cloth like I once did. Only you have consumed my thoughts, my actions.” He leans in and kisses you again. “You have consumed my heart.”
You smile, heart pounding at his confession, and you love it. You love him. You caress his cheek down to his neck and you look at him. “I have to go. I have Sunday school to handle this afternoon. I’ll sneak into your room later?” You whisper and he nods, making you grin. You peck his lips and shift off his cock and you adjust your habit. “Gonna have your cum dripping down my thighs all day.” You wink as you sneak from the booth, rushing through the halls to your duties.
Ezra returns to his rooms later, after listening to more confessions and taking a stroll around the grounds. Everything is going perfect and he needs to convince you to leave the church, knowing the head nun will soon grow suspicious, your roommate already is. She had voiced her concerns in the confessional booth earlier, believing it to be the other priest behind the screen. He needs you to leave with him.
****
You bite your lip as you hold up the strip. You’d barely managed to sneak out to buy the test when you’d missed your period for the third month in a row. The first two months you’d put it down to stress and then prayed you were wrong. You aren’t stupid. You’ve been having sex with Ezra and you haven’t been using protection or birth control. You were naive and stupid and now you’re suffering the consequences. You clean up and rush to Ezra’s quarters, knocking on his door. He opens it and you push inside, “we need to talk.” You spit out and he tilts his head, not saying a word as he waits for you to continue and you swallow, heart pounding as you spit out “I’m pregnant.”
He has been waiting for this, closing the door behind you and shooting you a grin. “Pregnant?” He asks breathlessly, not upset, but elated. “My sweet little bird is carrying a bundle of joy?” He moves over to you and scoops you up into his arms. “You are perfect. Utterly perfect in every conceivable way.” He gushes. “We must make arrangements for our little one. Great plans.”
You are surprised that he isn’t angry, that he’s not cursing you for being so careless. “Ezra, my love, do you - you aren’t mad at me?” You ask, palms resting on his chest and you lean back to look up at him. “Mad? Why would I be mad?” He asks and you swallow harshly, “we-well, we - we have broken our vows to the church. They are going to find out and we will - we will be exiled. Is that what you wished? You’ll lose your home, your job. We have been reckless and selfish. We have betrayed God.”
“God does not matter.” Ezra shakes his head and pulls you close. “You love me, yes?” You nod, still looking confused and he smirks slightly, leaning in to kiss you again. “Then what we have done is not betraying God.” He reasons. “We have created a new life. We have been fruitful and we will multiply. I- I come from a wealthy family.” He reveals. “We will leave the church and have our child. All will be as it should.”
You nod, knowing the bishop will curse you but you know in your heart that this is God’s plan for you. You kiss Ezra, caressing his face, and you pull back to offer him a smile. “Our baby. Our life together.” You murmur and he grins, nudging your nose with his. “We shall leave tonight. I have a family home we can escape to. Go pack your things, little bird. We shall leave at midnight and begin our new life together.” You nod, “I’ll be ready.” He smacks your ass over your habit and you giggle, spinning out of his arms to go pack.
When you slip out of his room, Ezra starts to chuckle. “Everything has happened as it should.” He says to the empty room. His reflection in the mirror is far different from what you see when you look at him. You would have screamed and fainted at the sight. “Have the others prepare the house for our arrival. She must be comfortable while she carries.”
You rush back to your room and begin to pack, shoving your things under your bed so you can grab your bag later. You are anxious and nervous when you slide into bed and you watch the clock as it ticks on your desk. Natalie fidgets in her sleep and when the clock hits 11:59pm you are shoving your duvet aside to get out of bed. You’re fully dressed and you kneel down to grab your bag. Excitement twists in your stomach and you reach for the door handle when you hear Natalie say “I hope he’s worth it.” You turn to look at her, “he is. I love him. I’m having his baby.” She gasps and sits up in bed. “May God forgive you.” She says as you sneak out into the hall, gripping your bag as you head to the meeting point Ezra gave you.
Ezra smiles when you appear in the gardens. “I have spoken discreetly to my family.” He informs you as you rush into his arms. “There is a lake house waiting for us. We can stay there for as long as we wish. It’s a beautiful spot for you to rest while you grow our child.”
You are so excited, letting him guide you through the gardens to the door that will let you escape from the abbey. You take a deep breath and let Ezra guide you from the life you’ve always known.
****
You sit on the porch, rubbing your bump as you look out at the lake. The sun is shining and you are due any day now. The months you’ve spent with Ezra in the lake house have solidified your love for him. Every day you wake up to him around you, his lips on your skin, and you can’t believe how happy he makes you. “How are you doing, little bird?” He asks as he steps onto the porch. You look over at him and smile, “all good. He’s kicking like crazy. I can’t wait to meet him.” You murmur, looking down at your bump.
“Soon enough.” He hums, holding out the cup of tea that has become a ritual for you to have. Since giving up your vow to God, you often wear shorts and a tank top, showing off more skin than you would ever show in your life in the nunnery. He sits down beside you and reaches over to caress your breast and then your stomach, smirking slightly. “They are feeling firm, milk is starting to come.”
You giggle, “you are insatiable. You’ll have me knocked up as soon as you can after this one is born.” You tease and Ezra chuckles, leaning in to kiss your cheek, “damn, you got me.” You place your hand over his and turn to look at him. “I don’t regret leaving. I don’t regret you. This. Us.” You softly kiss his lips, “I’ve never been so happy.”
“Good.” He looks into your eyes lovingly. “It is important to me, little bird. You and our child are my entire life.” He smiles. “My sweet, filthy little nun.”
You smirk, kissing his lips, until you pull back and have a sip of your tea. You’ll be having the baby soon and you will have a part of you and Ezra to adore.
****
“Fuck!” You cry, the pain almost taking your breath away as you bend over the bed. “Little bird? The midwife is here.” Ezra says breathlessly as he rushes into the room, chest heaving with panic, and you grip the sheets. “It hurts, Ez. It hurts.” You choke as another contraction hits you. You’d agreed with Ezra that you wanted a home birth, not wanting to go to the hospital so the midwife rushes over to you and starts to check you over.
“It’s okay, little bird, you will be taken care of.” He promises, leaning down and kissing your forehead before he moves to get a cool cloth. “Soon the baby will be here and it will be all over.” He croons softly as he bathes your sweaty face with the damp rag.
You are shifted onto the bed, dressed in a loose gown, and the midwife checks you over. “You are not dilating yet.” She observes and you frown, “how? I have been in labor for hours. Since early hours of the - shit - morning. And the pains are minutes apart. How can it - oh God.” You cry, your stomach cramping, and you hiss when you feel like your bump is going to rip open. “What’s happening? Ezra!” You cry, reaching for him.
“It’s okay, my love.” He grins, taking your hand and rubbing your stomach eagerly. “Soon he will be here, ripped free from your body and born to the world.” He chuckles darkly. “The prophecy will be fulfilled.”
You pant, feeling like the pain is taking your breath away. Ezra's words don't register as you cry out, feeling like you're about to burst open, and you reach down to touch your stomach, feeling the baby kicking like he's trying to get out. "Ezra. I don't - I'm scared. This isn't - fuck!" You scream as you feel like your insides are being torn apart. You don’t notice that the midwife seems frozen in place, unable to move or speak.
“It’s okay.” He had planned for this, gently taking your hand and lifting your arm over your head. Pulling out the restraints he had tucked out of sight and securing your wrist. Dazed by pain and panicked, you don’t notice until he’s successfully secured both of your wrists. “He won’t be too much longer.”
Your eyes widen as you realize when you try to touch your stomach. "Oh my God. I- What - what are you - oh fuck!" You scream when your stomach is torn open, blood spreading on your gown and your eyes widen, your scream is toe curling.
Ezra’s expression is giddy, gleeful as he watches, his eyes black as night. “That’s it.” He coos, lifting your gown to expose the tear in your flesh as your baby tears free of your body. “Come into the world.”
You see his eyes go black and you scream, tugging against the restraints and you scream as the baby rips your skin, blood everywhere, and you are terrified, in agony, and Ezra watches in awe. "Ez." You choke, blood beginning to spill from your mouth.
Ezra coos, leaning down and pulling the baby free of your body and cradling him in his arms. He murmurs your name and presses his lips to your bloody ones, even though you jerk away from him. “You did perfect, little bird.”
Your blood pours from your shredded stomach, your heart breaking at the look in Ezra's eyes. "Wh-why?" You choke, sputtering as the blood sticks in your throat.
“The babe needed to be born to a virgin.” He tells you, reaching down and caressing your cheek. “What better virgin than one of God’s own?” He chuckles. “My sweet nun, you have given birth, given your life, so that Satan will walk the earth.” His voice changes, deepens from the sugary, southern accent to the demonic pitch that comes naturally and he grins. “The end of times has arrived.”
You choke on your own blood, unable to say anything as terror overwhelms your body when you hear his voice. You've brought about the end of times. You let a demon seduce you and now, you're going to die. You're going to die for your sins. "Don't fret, little bird. You won't be around to see it. The end of the world has just begun." Those are the last words you hear as Ezra bends down to press his lips to yours as you choke out your last breath. Ezra pulls back, lips covered in blood as he grins, looking down at the baby in his arms. His mission has been accomplished.
summary: 1700’s. the journey home before you is long, weary, and you are alone… but not for long
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI. colonial era inspired AU, inexperienced!reader, religiously raised reader, historical/societal period negative views of women, major supernatural elements, religious discussions along with Christian imagery & mentions of scripture, Ezra’s use of petnames, heavy corruption kink, possessive!Ezra, finger sucking, wound kissing and one small moment of blood consumption, Ezra lifts reader with his demon strength (reader has no physical description), intense kissing & spicy moments, f!oral receiving, light overstimulation, briefest mention of Ezra watching/stalking, sacrilegious themes, dark & spooky vibes
word count: 7.9k
a/n: so this is my first Ezra fic & i blame this AU on my ex catholic school kid roots along with playing too much cult of the lamb bcs here we are lol I wouldn’t be here without the ones who paved the way/inspired me to take the jump to write Ezra so thank you @morallyinept @julesonrecord & @lowlights for being true lovely guides, also to @pastelle-rabbit @haylzcyon & @ahauntedcowboy for letting me scream/cry about this lol I love each & every one of y’all - and to you, if you decide to take a peek and read, thank you so much ♡
The forest stretches out far, daunting.
Twilight glimmers on the last of her heels and you hope to return home soon. You can almost hear your father’s anger at your stubbornness for not staying at the inn for another night and for simply being on this journey in the first place. You should’ve saved up for a carriage ride home.
Now, alone in the woods, you fear the tree branches will soon reach down to claw you into their canopy cluster above.
Deeper and further you walk through the forest path. You haven’t prayed much recently. But you faintly remember words urging you to not fear the terror of night, nor the danger that prowls in the darkness, and you’re gently eased. You also think of the early spring blooms scattered among the town waiting for you.
Then a branch cracks behind you, the sound of someone stepping on it, and you stop.
The trek has been silent, eerily so. Not even bird chirps or the wind’s breeze has filled your space. Yet it now sounds like something approaches.
You whip around.
No one stands behind you. Only the dirt and dust linger in the air.
The woods must be clouding you with unnecessary dread. You’ve walked these roads alone before and you will walk them again even though the forest seems darker now.
Determined, and slightly frightened, you spin on your heels to quickly return on your journey.
“There you are, turtle dove.”
The voice startles you so suddenly you almost collapse. Strangely accented, the thick drawl flows heavy with a twang of someone from the wild southern territories.
Your heart beats fast like a petrified rabbit and your eyes snap towards the source of the voice.
Leaning against a large tree is the most exquisite man you ever believe to be crafted.
Dressed in a striking coat, a beautifully sharp nose and dark facial hair, he’s ethereal. You also spot the most interesting tuff of white blonde hair against his dark chestnut locks. What’s startling are his magnetic inky eyes staring at you.
“I don’t know you, good sir.” You politely reply.
The man smiles like a fox creeping around a chicken coop.
“Ezra is my given name, turtle dove. Now we’re no longer strangers.”
His name - Ezra.
Like his name suggests you wonder if maybe he’s here to provide aid, your personal blessing.
Yet his words flutter out duplicitous and heavy like something dangerous chains around them down.
“Then good day to you, sir.” You nod, a polite reply, and decide to withhold your name.
“May I accompany you on your journey?” He suggests surprisingly gentle, his words olive branch-like offers.
You ask him where he is even headed, and for what brings a well speaking, slightly suspicious, man as himself into these woods.
“The same as you, sweet bird,” Ezra replies simply. “We all have our journeys to be upon. Mine just happens to coincide with yours. A rather fortuitous blessing if I do say so myself.”
Your eyes narrow. Something scratches at the back of your mind urging you to keep walking and pay no heed to this man.
But then the wind picks up.
From a soft breeze it quickly transforms into the strangest howl, like a warning of the dangers lurking all around. In a slight panic your eyes survey your surroundings. This man might be a stranger, but having company might not be such a bad choice.
“Come now.” Ezra comments reassuring and steady even among the howling winds. “These woods are wild and deep, ain’t no place for a treasure such as yourself.”
He is handsome, the most stunning man you may ever see. And the glimmer in his eyes seems to beckon you.
After you quietly nod, your journey expands by one.
With a gracious bow of his head, the man from the shadows falls into step beside you.
The wind suddenly, but thankfully, settles. However, tension prickles against your skin and a strange warmth blooms from the center of your chest.
“So, what’s a lovely angel like yourself doing here, a babe in the woods?” Ezra begins.
Your fingers tighten against your cloak while the truth stays sealed tight.
The man chuckles.
“Don’t go shy on me now, sweet dove,” he teases.
You huff annoyed. However, seeing as how you will be traveling with him until you return home, you decide to engage with him.
Your dearest friend moved to the next town when you both became fully grown. She fell in love with a married man in a loveless marriage to a cruel woman. Because of that your friend was condemned to banishment. Now, she’s with child. Some even whisper the child was maybe even convinced due to witchcraft.
However, with the recent passing of your town’s relentless head clergyman, you hope this will help improve the situation.
Ezra listens patiently, letting you quietly explain everything.
“And so you traveled to visit your dear friend like a kind emissary.” He notes. “Your town must be in an uproar over you visiting her.”
“They are.” You answer stiffly.
Your father absolutely detests it. Even the governor’s son, who has shown interest in courting you, has made it known that your lenient position doesn’t help towards a marriage possibility. But you won't falter in your loyalty. Especially after your faith has been so shaken from seeing the harsh treatment given to your friend.
“A fair decision.” Ezra agrees. “All those upset are fools anyway. Seems they forgot the good book even mentions how cherished a gift it is to forgive others just as the lord forgives us.”
He quotes scripture so passively it surprises you. He doesn’t seem like a spiritual type. If anything, Ezra seems like a man who slinks around the shadows late at night among the thieves and brothels hidden at the edge of town.
“You’re right,” you agree with him. “Who are we to judge others on simple matters of passion compared to our lord, especially to condemn it?”
“Lust is considered a grave sin though, dear birdie, so I understand why.” He quietly answers while his words scurry over your skin. “After all, look at the predicament it entangled your dear friend in.”
“And don’t passions of the flesh wage war against the solemnity of the soul?” Ezra politely answers lightly referring to scripture and you wonder if he is a man devoted to the good book.
So you reserve your words again.
“Please… do not silence your song, biride.” Ezra coos.
“Now, tell me your thoughts,” he whispers low.
As you swallow hard, your skin feels tight against your bones. But you decide to speak freely, as dangerous as it may be.
“It’s true that my friend committed a terrible sin.” You begin with a shaky sigh. “I understand her punishment. But for others to be so cruel when faith says to forgive and embrace salvation feels hypocritical.”
“True indeed. And as you said, all this for the sake of condemning passion? There are worse commandments to shatter under heaven’s watchful eye.” Ezra drawls out.
“Exactly.” You agree with a firm nod more at ease with your new companion.
“Besides… isn’t the act of creation an offspring of passion?” He challenges and the thought stuns you.
The stranger is correct and his perception moves you.
You’ve never engaged in such discussions like this with anyone before, especially not with a man. You noticed he speaks to you like an equal, never diminishing your ideals or fully trampling on your opinions.
Something greedy urges you to slow down your step and spend as much time with your new companion.
“So, is there a husband of yours waitin’ at home to meet you with passions, dear dove?” Ezra asks with the curl of intrigue in his voice and you almost choke on a gasp.
“A rather forward question to ask a stranger.” You snap back sharply and glare at him.
Ezra keeps his abyss eyes drawn forward and doesn't seem bothering at your reply or the discussion matter he brought up.
“Thought we established we’re no longer strangers?” Your stranger mutters back.
“We’ve discussed religion, the ways of the hearts and their passions. Only good friends touch on such topics, yes?”
He’s unbearably confident, and he knows it. You want to storm off, maybe even demand him to leave. But you can’t do it. You almost can’t endure the thought of him leaving now.
So you reply stiffly. “No. I have no husband at home.”
“Truly?” He now squawks confused.
“Ain’t that a damn shame.” He purrs. “A creature lovely as yourself deserves to be worshiped every minute you’re here among this green earth.”
Your heart thumps erratic against its cage.
“Are you mocking me, good man Ezra, for not being married?” You deflect with a shaky voice.
“Never, turtle dove.” He reassures. “I believe the ultimate sin is to be denied any shade of passion.”
“Especially for a beauty marvelous as yourself.” He exhales and his voice dances devilishly.
An uneasiness settles into your legs, like your body could give out at any moment.
“What you say is blasphemy,” you manage to reply, however your voice wavers. “A heathen's words.”
“I could’ve recounted the same about you moments ago when you spoke your thoughts.” He mutters back.
Your heart drops. He’s correct. This man has your thoughts tied up in so many knots and you cannot find a path within yourself.
“No need to worry.” Ezra says. “Treading into heathen’s territory is never frightful when you have a companion.”
You don’t know how you feel about this conversation or where it seems to be heading towards. Your gaze turns to Ezra. He continues staring ahead composed.
He’s a strange unorthodox man, an anomaly, someone you never believed existed.
“Now tell me… have you tasted desire, my sweet turtle dove?”
His eyes now move to you, catching you staring red handed. Like an exposed thief, your gaze flies away from him.
His question, as if composed of thorns, constricts around your throat refusing to let you answer.
You’ve tasted it on the tips of your tongue. One of your old childhood friends became a courtesan at a brothel. During her nights off, you’d sneak out to visit her. She recounted with giggles about the various sexual escapades she’s experienced. It made your mouth water wishing for the embrace of a lover, to understand what it meant to be truly desired.
You’ve been tempted to fall into bed with the blacksmith’s brother but once you discovered his cruel treatment of the women in town you were soured by the thought. So during the late nights alone your fingers slipped under the quilts and you would find a sticky taste of passion.
Getting caught up in your thoughts keeps you quiet.
“When I was a younger man and lived in France.” Ezra begins with a sudden gentle musing, the voice of a storyteller almost. “Even when I migrated here to the southern territories, I learned of an interesting turn of phrase.”
“La petite mort.” The words flow from him beautifully, rolled with such finessed precision. Hearing him speak sparks a jolt up your spine.
“I’m not quite sure you know of it, but do you know what it means?”
Your eyes that had glazed over are now back on Ezra. His devastatingly beautiful face remains serene.
“The literal translation is ‘a little death.’” Ezra continues. “But what it speaks of is the little moment of feeling as if you’re dying when experiencing true orgasmic release, something that makes us see god.”
His words, hanging with a thinly concealed desire, rip through you and a slickness slowly pools between your legs.
Now his eyes flicker to you.
“A pleasure so rapturous we taste a little death.” He mutters looking so intently at you that you want to scurry and hide away.
But you can’t. You’re drawn into his gaze, a poor moth entrapped by his erratic flame, and you’re not quite sure if this fire is hellfire.
Rationale within you screams this man could be a robber or could be leading you into his sticky web to simply harm you. Yet it seems like he could vanish into smoke.
You also notice you and Eza have both stopped walking. Now staring into his eyes, you discover storms in them.
Until an oncoming storm arrives all around. The wind erupts into howls. It whips around fast and you tug your cloak closer trying to stay warm against the gales.
Your face even scrunches up at the drastic change in the weather.
A firm hand moves to your back pulling you closer until you rest within the shade of a firm body. Ezra has drawn you into his side, lifting his cloak to cover you, and your eyes become full moons.
“To keep you sheltered from this weather. Though, we may need to hunt for some sanctuary soon.” He mutters.
He smells of pine, like the forest itself gave him to you. However you also catch the smallest hint of something smoky, like he slept too close to a campfire.
But, his words confuse you.
“Terrible weather? It’s simply just bad wind.” You yell against the wind and glance around the forest.
That’s when you notice how terrifyingly dark it’s gotten. The tree branches now stretch above like monstrous limbs crawling along the darkness.
How long have you been out along the trail? You haven’t even reached the halfway point to town. The woods now loom incredibly dark like a chasm ready to swallow you whole.
Then the drum of thunder comes, and the skies open up, as if on command by Ezra’s prophetic words. The rain unleashes a downpour. You squawk like a petrified bird at how soaked you’re getting even being covered by his coat.
“Come!” He cries over the storm keeping you close. “I believe there is shelter close by.”
So through the darkness you go, led by him off the path and deeper into the thicket.
How did he know a shelter was nearby? Shouldn’t he have come here earlier and left you on your journey? Or did he maybe sense the storm was coming and wanted to keep accompanying you.
The rush of the rain along with how quickly Ezra moves you and him feels as if you’re flying through the forest like your feet never once touch the ground.
Your body stops and out from the darkness, among the rain, stands the faint shape of a building.
Ezra guides you inside and you exhale relieved you’re out of the storm.
The stale smell of dust greets you first and makes your nose crinkle.
Looking out to your new makeshift shelter, you find yourself standing in a very abandoned church. Dried dead leaves scatter the floor. Vacant pews hold a hollow ghostly emptiness. You didn’t even know this chapel was here.
“How did you know of this place-” you turn to ask Ezra but discover you’re alone.
So focused on soaking in the church you didn’t even notice his departure.
“Ezra?” You call for him and silence replies.
Where could he have gone?
“Worry not.” Ezra’s voice floats out an echo. From the side of the sacristy, beside the main congregation hall, he emerges.
How did he get there without you noticing?
In his grasp is a lit candle. The flames create interesting shadows upon his handsome face as his molten eyes stare at you.
“Apologizes,” he reassured you with the ease of a saint. “Went to scavenge for some light.”
“Seems you were unsuccessful.” You dryly tease, walking towards where Ezra stands at the front of the congregation.
A slight tug of amusement comes over his heavenly face.
“We shall make camp here until the storm quells.”
No better place to find sanctuary than in a chapel, even though this one has seen better days.
Outside the wind continues rattling the windows while the rain creates a soothing melody. Yet, there is an emptiness here, like you can’t sense any sacred spirit within these walls. You wonder if the Lord maybe has even abandoned this space.
“Come rest with me, turtle dove.” Ezra beckons to you as he sits casually on the floor up besides the altar.
“You can’t sit there!” You whisper urgent.
“Why? Who is here to stop me?” Ezra counters with raised eyebrows and amused crinkled eyes.
“This is sacred ground! You can’t simply sit in the sanctuary like it’s some sort of encampment!” You argue.
“Biride,” Ezra begins. “This momentary shelter is merely a building. The same way all buildings are just simple creations of stone and labor.”
“Not buildings like this, especially when our lord resides here.” You reply like a dutifully faithful follower.
Ezra now sits up from his lax position to glance around. His eyes survey every inch of the space.
“You say our Heavenly Father is here. But tell me, turtle dove, do you sense his presence here?”
He noticed it too.
Your tongue becomes metal, heavy and bitter.
“Come,” he urges again, kinder now. “Rest. Your legs need their strength for the rest of your journey. It will be much more comfortable than those stuffy pews.”
You narrow your eyes at him, still hesitant. Defiant, you try sitting in one of the vacant pews only to find clusters of spider webs creating a slightly unnerving barrier. And you didn’t want to check every pew for availability. You were too tired.
Refusing to meet Ezra’s eyes you step past the pews, into the sanctuary, and delicately sit a small space away from your companion.
“See? Not so hard, and you didn’t even combust into flames sitting here.”
You glare at him while Ezra grins triumphant. Silence settles. But with a man who readily embraces the gift and curse of gab, it feels dangerous.
A small gurgle of a noise rumbles out and your face heats up horrified. You didn’t realize you hadn’t eaten this entire journey.
“A bit peckish, dear dove?” Ezra chuckles a smokey thing.
You’re about to grumble under your breath annoyed until he again peers around the abandoned church.
“Rather unfortunate there doesn’t seem to be any source of subsidence here.”
You quietly reassure him as you shift your cloak to reach for your covered satchel. Thankfully, your morsel of a wrapped loaf was spared from the rain.
“I have this for us to share.” You quietly announce.
Ezra gasps small but surprised.
“Divine goddess, you are salvation.” He breathes out.
“I am no goddess. No one person is divine in such a way.” You correct him.
The man hums. “If the maker created man in his image does that not mean we are shades of god in our own ways?”
Midway unfolding the bread out of the paper, you halt.
You never thought of it that way. It made sense. Slowly, it feels as if a wagon wheel is turning in your head leading you towards something you cannot reach.
“Sweet turtle dove,” Ezra calls to you. “Would you be so gracious and let me consecrate our feast?”
You’re stunned by the heartfelt request. This man seems to be a never ending labyrinth confusing you with no end in sight.
You slide closer to sit fully beside him. Readily you hand him the wrapped bread and try not to jump at his hand brushing yours. His skin is soft, warmed, and your knuckles tingle from the simple exchange.
“Thank you kindly.”
Now holding the bread in one hand, Ezra moves the other to lightly hover above the morsel. Closing his eyes in prayer, Ezra begins.
However, he mutters low and so fast that you can’t even catch a word of his prayer. You wonder if he even is saying anything or is simply mocking the form of prayer.
You’re about to chide him until he quickly finishes. Dreamily opening his eyes Ezra then simply breaks the bread into two.
“To break communion with someone lovely as you is an honor.” With a gracious grin, your stranger hands you a piece. You thank him with a soft mutter.
The storm continues its wrath and you arrive at a bleak conclusion. Your night will be spent here in this eerie abandoned church with this strange mysterious handsome man.
Resigning yourself to that, you sigh and take a bite out of the bread.
The bread was a simple one you got from the neighboring town’s bakery. It’s nothing special. You’ve even thought it rather stale at times.
However, the bread you taste now is indescribable.
It melts in your mouth, wonderfully soft and warm. There’s even the sweetest taste like a whisper of a fruit that reminds you of apples. An uncontrollable moan of satisfaction escapes you.
But your eyes widen realizing how you just acted.
Embarrassment floods you fast and you anxiously gaze at Ezra who smirks at you.
Unable to stare at him long, you turn back down to your lap. The bread looks exactly the same as it always does.
Is your mind so exhausted it believes this stale morsel now tastes this heavenly?
You must be imagining things.
Besides you, Ezra shuffles. Out of curiosity your eyes lift towards him and find the man shrugging off his coat.
He even removes his waistcoat to reveal his simple white slipover. Rain still lingers on his skin allowing the pristine white cloth to stick to him. Without the coat you’re given clear sight of his glorious neck.
A thought flutters into your mind.
You imagine sinking your teeth into his beautiful flesh and lapping up all the rain droplets.
Dread fills you.
How could you think such thoughts?
“Turtle dove,” Ezra’s voice shatters the silence almost making you jump.
“If you could create a world of your own, what would it look like?”
The question stumps you, even brings in a twinkle of curiosity. What would bring on such a question? You suppose it must be a way to break the silence and pass the time.
In thought, you hum a small noise.
“I think…” you quietly utter and let your thoughts flow.
You think of a world built on compassion, one without hunger or war, of one filled with peace and justice.
“And without sin, I suppose.” Ezra gently comments and your eyes turn to him.
He stares towards the ground with a peculiar look shadowed over his handsome face.
“Yes of course.” You answer. Sin is the root of all evil and corrupted humanity’s souls.
“What if I told you some sins are not all evil? And that what you long for, dear turtle dove, is not a world void is sin, but one free of guilt from it.”
Your face scrunches up a bit confused over his nebulous words.
“Should we not all live in indulgence?” Ezra adds, clarified in his words.
“Indulgence leads to corruption.” You reply parroting all the countless sermons that discussed this.
“If our creator didn’t want us to indulge, then why did he indulge in creating such a world so lush as this one?” Your stranger offers.
You try gathering a reply, thinking of all the lessons about how this world is meant to be seen in awe and appreciated. Not to indulge in. But now all your arguments seem to fall short, not even sound correct in your head.
Before you can press the discussion further Ezra leans closer towards you. Your thoughts and body become completely petrified.
You should lean away, lean back from his casual intimate movements.
But you can’t. Or, within the deep terror of your heart you know the truth. You don’t want to.
His thumb moves towards the corner of your mouth and you transform completely into stone.
Ezra’s ink eyes haze over while his thumb gently swipes against your skin.
“Crumbs.” He mutters, answering for his actions. Yet, his hand doesn’t leave.
You don’t shove him away or demand him to go. The downpour rattling the windows becomes the church’s only noise while you and this man sit in the stillness.
Ezra’s attention falls to your mouth.
His thumb now strokes the corner of your lips. You believe it’s to wipe more bread crumbs away. Then his thumb swipes across your bottom lip and a sharp inhale escapes you.
His eyes and yours find each other.
“You deserve to live in indulgence,” Ezra whispers deviously rich.
Your skin feels ablazed and your throat dries. Out of instinct or perhaps something darker you wet your lips. In that movement your lips press against his thumb and your tongue manages to swipe at his skin.
You’re rewarded the faintest taste of him, a crumb of his salty golden skin, and it’s like a thread slowly catches fire.
You want more, need it.
Possibly possessed now, your mouth opens up and simply slips more of his thumb into your mouth.
The moment the salty taste of him hits your tongue your eyes close.
Feeling his finger in your mouth against your tongue, against your teeth, is divine. His flesh must be coated with ambrosia because your mouth waters aching for more.
Heaven, or this must be a slice of it.
Until horror strikes you and you realize what you’re doing. Terrified eyes now open, you’re about to pull away and yelp horrified.
Ezra’s hand rapidly moves to cradle your face firm and slide his thumb deeper into your mouth.
“Oh my sweet bird,” he coos now closer to you. “You’ve tasted the pleasure I can give, the magic I can conjure. Don’t deny yourself this.”
His beautiful nose presses into the side of your face nuzzling against your skin and your eyes close. Bliss overtakes you.
“Now” his voice drops a dangerous lulling whisper. “Hollow your cheeks for me, and suck in.”
You do as told and the groan Ezra lets out vibrates deep past your skin. You even let out a whine.
You’ve heard the noises men make in the waves of passion, but this was decadent. You never knew a man could sound this beautiful.
You wanted to hear him even more. And knowing you did this to him? A syrupy drunken pride courses through you intoxicating.
You suck harder, allowing your tongue to caress his skin and Ezra exhales heavenly.
Before you can indulge any further, a creature screeches into the church and shatters the sensual spell. You shriek in terror and scramble. Wings furiously flapping come and out of reflex you cover your head.
Then a solid body collides into you and your world falls over.
You hit the floor of the sanctuary with a soft thud. It would’ve been a harder fall if not for Ezra’s hand cradling your head to soften the impact. Your eyes look up to find Ezra covering you, protecting you from whatever flew in.
Your heart thumps loud in your ears, a horrible drum drowning out your thoughts. His broad shoulders, firm frame, he really is a man crafted out of pure beauty and desire now that you’ve tasted his skin.
“Blasted bats… must’ve been nesting in here.” Ezra comments with a mutter while his eyes stay watching out.
Now you faintly hear the familiar chirps of the creatures. You hope they all leave soon or move to another area within the church.
Slowly the rustling settles. Ezra does not move from his post above you, a shield keeping you safe from the interrupting creatures.
His large hand cradling your head holds you gently but with a firmness that speaks of his control.
The strangest clash of sensations arrives. Like Eve awoken out of her blissful sin, you’re keenly aware of the cold clothes sticking to you. Particularly your wet cloak weighing on you sends a chill crawling up your skin making you squirm.
Ezra’s eyes slip back to you. The candlelight highlights the shadows of his face and his eyes seem deeper than before. Candlelight doesn’t even reflect in their abyss.
Until his obsidian eyes go wide in a slight panic.
“Your wing, turtle dove.”
Now confused you shift to lift your arm up. A small cut has ripped through your cloak and blouse sleeve. You didn’t even notice or feel it. Must have cut yourself on the old wooden floor below.
The church didn’t seem this dilapidated to have rotten wood floors. However, without upkeep, it only makes sense everything begins to splinter and decay. Thankfully the cut isn’t deep but dark crimson does stain the cloth.
“Oh,” you even mutter a bit stunned.
Gently Ezra shifts to help you up while being cautious of your wound.
“Are you in pain?” He asks, concerned.
“No.” You shake your head, truthfully telling him you didn’t even notice the cut.
Ezra delicately moves towards your arm. “May I?”
You nod quietly.
Gingerly, your mysterious stranger places his hands on you to further inspect your wound.
“It doesn’t hurt.” You reassure him.
Surprisingly, Ezra stays silent. His eyes remain on your arm. As if you’re an injured sparrow, he folds up your blouse sleeve delicately.
The faintest touch of his thumb strokes your bare skin and your throat constricts tight. This unknown mystery of a man tenderly touching you clutches at your soul.
“My creator, so heavenly in his wisdom,” he suddenly speaks low, like his voice is dipped in sticky honey. “Taught me this is how we heal wounds.”
Then Ezra draws your arm up and he leans down. And in that swift moment, he presses his lips to your wound.
A tender kiss.
Your breath hitches, tripping over itself. You indeed had his finger in your mouth moments ago. But this opens a chasm in you. Especially as you watch him lick away your blood at his lips
Then his lips return to your skin, on your wound, and it feels like devotion.
There were saints that kissed the wounds of your lord and now how angelic, reverent, Ezra’s face looks, you imagine him as one.
However, his lips start kissing all across your arm, quickly becoming greedy. Like a silent thief, he continues kissing up your arm with deliberate nips.
If he is a robber, this thievery is divine. You even squirm, squeezing your legs together because a slick wetness leaks between them. You wish to quell this burning urge to be touched.
Your mind only focuses on Ezra’s lips that you don’t even notice he unclasped your cloak until the heavy cold weight drops off you like shackles unchained.
However, an awful breeze across your skin makes you shrink back from the cold and snaps you into awareness.
You can’t do this with a man like this, a stranger.
A fanged piece of yourself urges you to simply give in, especially with a man not known in town. The internal struggle vanishes when Ezra’s breath tickles against your exposed neck.
“Do you wish me to stop, my turtle dove?” He coo’s. “I believe you deserve to taste this indulgence.”
“I don’t know you.” You croak out. Yet your voice doesn’t even sound convinced of your own resolve.
“Oh but you do.” Ezra pleads, his voice drenched in gilded desire.
“You know me.” He urges. “This is what you wanted. Your heart summoned me. I heard your call and here I am.”
“What do you mean?” Your voice cracks, an unsteady foundation.
“The hidden truths in your heart,” Ezra whispers and his breath dances upon your skin a ghost’s hymnal.
“The festering jealousy of knowing your dear friend found adoration, even out of sin…you wished to know of such delights. And your anger of this world for damning you to such solitudes, of being so constricting - it all called to me.”
Fear captures your heart. This couldn’t be true.
“Oh but it is,” Ezra answers you.
You don’t even know if you spoke those words aloud or if this man has now slithered into your thoughts.
“All those nights you longed for a lover,” he mourns sympathetically. “All alone with just your fingers in your sweet sex.”
You choke on air, gasping for some sort of relief from this terror drowning you.
“Oh and I’ve watched you for so long, my bird.” He bemoans. “Ached for so long to claim you mine.”
“You…you’ve seen me before?” You stammer.
“Indeed I have. I know you’ve partaken in sin. And the guilt you hold consumes you. Let me be your redemption,” Ezra continues with a pure temptation crawling from his voice.
You should be concerned at how this man has seen you before. Yet…With his mouth simply a breath’s pace away from you nothing seems to matter. Because your mind only wants him to kiss you, ravish you.
“You must say it, my angel.” He mutters.
Do you dare jump off the ledge and plunge into this molten fire?
A light terror runs across your skin, like hearing the hiss of a snake yet not seeing it. Something is afoot with Ezra. You can’t pinpoint it…
But you also wonder if this doubt is born from the chains of your faith holding you back?
“Ezra.” You mumble his name, a choked noise.
“I await your command.” The man reverently responds as if in a mass himself.
“Please….” You whimper out.
“Please what?” He murmurs and his twang clouds his voice even more.
“Please….touch me.” You croak while your voice trails.
It unleashes a monster.
Ezra’s lips dive onto your neck, kissing upon your skin with a possessed fervor. Even while sitting, the sudden rush of his lips, the scrape of his facial hair against you makes your body collapse.
It only allows for Ezra to sweep you into his arms.
Yanking his face away from your neck, you’re about to mourn the loss of him against your skin until his lips swoop in to consume yours.
You’ve kissed others before. In the hidden shadow of buildings after dark, you’ve even recently shared a kiss or two with the blacksmith’s brother a handful of times. They’ve been wonderful but secret encounters.
This however sets your soul on fire.
His tongue swiftly maneuvers into your mouth and now tasting him from the source, you never want to know a day without this, without him.
You moan, yanking at him closer, and try to slide your own tongue against his now. It’s messy, wet, a clash of bone and spirit but it’s delicious.
Sliding his arms under your legs, Ezra lifts you up with ease as he stands. You squeak against his lips, but then your eyes roll back when the man suddenly begins sucking on your tongue.
Your body feels like it will crumble at any moment.
That’s when you notice you’re being laid upon something cold and flat.
Wearily you find you do rest high upon something.
And now, the church is lit.
You panic looking around. The torches lining the walls burn with warm flames and illuminate the space in amber light.
How? Ezra did not leave you for one moment. Was there another here? And if so, how did you not hear them?
A warm calloused hand moves to cradle your face and your eyes snap to Ezra who peers down at you with smoke filled eyes.
“Don’t fret, my dove. We are only here.” He reassures, leaning down to kiss you again and your eyes shut once more.
“And if you’re not simply focused on me, then I’m not doing this correctly.” He mutters against your lips.
A wanton drunkenness comes with how consuming he kisses, especially as his mouth pulls from your lips to lick against your jaw.
He hums a satisfied groan.
“Oh my darling turtle dove, you were born to be worshiped by me weren’t you? And I blessed to simply be your devout disciple.” A revered holiness oozes thick from his voice.
“Let me venerate at your holy temple.” Ezra exhales against your throat kissing your feverish skin.
This is more than you can handle. It’s tremendous. It’s too much, yet not enough. It’s building something just out of your grasp, a flame that can’t be extinguished and scorches so fierce.
Blinking out of the haze, you find instead of being beside you, Ezra, like magic, now stands by your feet.
His hands slide up your legs and yank you closer towards him.
A yelp of surprise squeaks out from you. Any other noise or thoughts get swallowed up when Ezra’s hands snake under your skirt and up your legs.
Your eyes close under the sensation of his calloused warm hands.
“Do you know what true sacrifice cleanses sins?” Ezra asks with gravel in his voice.
“Hm?” You mumble, unable to create a response with how wonderful his fingers feel caressing your thighs.
“It’s to offer up one’s life. That’s the ultimate form of sacrifice.”
His words terrify you. Is he insinuating what you think he is? Are you to be made a lamb to slaughter because of the desire consuming you?
“Shh…” Ezra notices your worry and soothes you, rubbing gentle circles on your skin.
“Fear not, my dove. For I shall bring you redemption just as you’ve brought me mine.”
Slowly, he hoists your leg up and your eyes widen. He shifts to stand between your legs. Keeping his gaze on you, the mysterious man kisses your calf, a calming balm that also ignites a heat brewing in you again.
“Tell me,” Ezra asks, speaking into your skin. “Has anyone tasted you…here?”
Suddenly his fingers graze against your sex and warmth floods your face at just the thought.
You heard of such a thing from your friend at the brothels. However it was a rare occurrence, almost seemed mythical.
“No.” You breathe out.
“Shame.” Ezra mumbles. “All for me I suppose. A wonderfully ripe peach, all mine to consume.”
His inky dazed eyes flicker to yours.
“Will you let me take you to heaven, my lovely? May I swim in your ocean and taste your pearl?” Ezra offers like a man asking for your atonement.
The terminology is not missed on you and lust crashes in a dizzying tidal wave.
Quietly, swallowing thick, you nod yes.
Pride grin tugs at Ezra’s lips and his eyes twinkle like a creature lurking out from the woods.
Softly closing his eyes, he returns to kissing your skin. Except this time he moves up your leg with a purpose -
Like he’s on a holy pilgrimage.
Almost bewitched you watch him kneel down and push up your skirt to reveal your under garment. It’s a sight you want seared into your memory.
Then Ezra presses forward and kisses your covered sex. A gasp rips wild from you and your eyes roll back.
With a fast rip, Ezra takes apart your undergarments. Bare to him, his tongue then licks against your cunt and the most debauched sound you never knew you could even make escapes you.
“Do you enjoy? Wish me to continue?” You don’t know how Ezra’s voice swirls around you, a caress in the whispering wind, but you nod frantically.
“Ezra please… more.” You whimper.
And he does as you command.
Ezra pulls you apart with a wet devotion and frenzy that feels like you’re being devoured. He’s feasting on you.
You whine, even slap a hand over your mouth to silence how loud you’ve become when he sucks hard on the pearl of your sex.
“No.” He mumbles wet within your molten heat. “Let me hear you, my lovely.”
You don’t deny him after that.
The storm now rages outside, violently ramming into the windows. It mixes with the cries of your pleasure ripping through you.
When your climax arrives and knocks you out of this realm, you scream Ezra’s name while your legs shake.
“Beauty divine,” Ezra sighs, devout and borderline drunk.
Breathing down from your high with your back fully now flat against the floor surface, it hits you.
You’ve been lying on the chapel’s altar this entire time.
The offering is you. You indeed are the sacrifice, one of vitality. The throne of ecstasy is a form of life…
And did Ezra not tell you passion is also a tiny death itself as well?
Before you can gather this, Ezra dives back into you again and you squirm unbelieving this man can want more. He’s a man possessed like he’s trying to consume you from the inside out, devouring you until he reaches your marrow.
“Ezra.” You whimper. It borders too much, but you also don’t want this to stop.
“Let me feast, my dove.” He growls back and you catch it.
Ezra’s voice sounds distorted, fluttering between his twang and now a jagged danger sounding monstrous.
Wearily, trying to stay aware among the heat of building rapture, you exhaustedly lean up.
Between your legs Ezra is a sinful sight. His broad shoulders keep your thighs open as his tongue dips into the caverns of your cunt. You melt, unable to keep your eyes open.
But you want to watch him, want to remember this for as long as you can.
Especially now that the storm rages all around. You even wonder if the decaying church’s roof might be ripped off.
So your eyes open.
From between your legs, Ezra glances up.
His mouth stays stuck to your sex, except his eyes are completely hollowed out.
Drenched in darkness, like ink spilled entirely into them, they’re unholy and inhuman.
A scream rips from you but you can’t tell if it’s born of fear or pleasure. Or maybe both have blended together.
Your hips rise galvanized more and more, unable to stop their grind into his lips. Ezra’s grip keeps you secured and grounded.
Yet the sensation of sharpened nails now scrape against your skin.
You discover there are indeed claws, gruesome and monstrous claws, that form Ezra’s hands and arms.
“What- what are you?!” You sob.
Ezra hums and peers up at you.
“Salvation, my lovely. Yours and mine.”
A second orgasmic high hits and from the overwhelming pleasure your vision goes white. You wonder if this is heaven.
Or perhaps it’s hell.
Maybe you have died.
You should scream in terror or pray for absolution. But it’s so hard when this tastes so incredibly intoxicating, a most potent elixir.
As your body crumbles back against the altar, the overstimulated sensations become numbing, fogging your mind. Your eyes flicker up to the ceiling of the chapel.
You cannot find your god anywhere in the shadows.
The back of Ezra’s clawed hand gently strokes your cheek.
So tired, barely able to stay awake, your exhausted gaze flickers to him.
Those eyes of his, dark chasms of hell, should be soulless. But instead he looks at you with utmost tenderness.
The blazing lights of the church cast a warm glow outlined around Ezra, almost like a halo.
It’s beautiful. He’s beautiful in the terrifying way a fire is.
The mystery known as Ezra suddenly whispers out your name and you realize…
You never once gave it to him this entire time.
He is the last sight you see before your vision finally falls into the darkness.
When you awake, you’re among your quilts and bed.
You’re home.
Rapidly you look around so confused. How did you end up here? Was it all a dream?
“You’re awake!” Your father cries relieved and rushes to your side.
He thankfully answers all your questions.
You had arrived the morning after the storm. However, you hadn’t been alone.
“You had fallen ill on the road.” Your father explains. “But, thanks be to God, the new pastor sent to our town discovered you and carried you home.”
Now you’ve been resting ever since.
Had that experience been a fever dream, a temporary temptation conjured from your heart’s dark desires?
That had to be a dream, one brought on by your sudden sickness. So you rest and stay in bed for most of the day. From your window you admire the beautiful clear skies, the wonderful weather, and wildflowers growing so lovely.
You also notice your arm is completely healed, like you were never cut to begin with.
Midafternoon, a knock arrives at the door.
Your father calls your name. “Someone here to visit!”
Your mind sorts through all the possibilities of who is here to see you. You never expected your dearest friend to enter in with tears in her eyes. Overjoyed emotion washes over you as she rushes to embrace you.
“How can this be?” You hiccup, wiping away the tears. She was rarely allowed back home, especially now with her early pregnancy.
“The new pastor,” she smiles wide. “So holy and forgiving, he spoke to the judges and they are all redetermining a new sentence for me.”
You almost whisper out a prayer of thanksgiving. You hoped in your heart this would happen. She doesn’t stay long, wanting you to rest and you urge her to do the same.
By twilight another knock at the door arrives.
“Seems we are quite popular today.” Your father teases out from the main quarters.
Then he exclaims in excitement at seeing who’s arrived.
“Oh we are so blessed to have such a considerate clergyman coming by to visit!”
The new pastor. You’re beyond interested to meet this man and now you will.
When your father enters your room, Ezra waltzes in behind him.
Fear seizes your soul.
No. It couldn’t be.
This must be a man that looks like him down to his beautiful sharp nose and white patch of hair.
“Pleasure to see you again and under better circumstances.” Ezra’s clear twang rings out low and twinkling within your room.
Your heart rages rapidly and wild.
“Don’t look so terrified.” Your father chides soft but you still can’t believe this sight before you.
“Might I have a moment of solitude with your dear offspring?” Ezra asks with all the humility of an apostle.
Your father readily agrees, shutting the door behind him.
Now in the confines of your room Ezra slowly saunters towards your bed, a creature approaching its prey.
He exalts your name on an exhale.
You try to speak, but nothing comes out and Ezra moves to kneel beside your bed. His eyes twinkle with patient and pious understanding.
“Shh…no need for words, my dear turtle dove.” He quietly soothes you.
So many emotions clash in you, a tremulous onslaught you can’t handle.
“Have you come to kill me?” Fear manages to escape your lips and Ezra’s glorious face drops.
“Oh no, my beloved birdie. I’d never lay a hand on you with any violence or killing intent.” He reassures, a tender caress. “I’m here to free you. For us to set everyone free…did you not hear of what I did for your dear friend?”
His hand graciously cradles your cheek.
You should be terrified this man, this creature, is here. But you’re not.
Instead consuming relief and dangerous glee fills you. He is real. It was real.
Your hands clasp onto his and you hate how much you lean into his touch
Ezra leans forward and places a kiss against your forehead.
“What are you?” You ask barely above a whisper.
“The shadow of an angel, perhaps a monster to some.” He replies back. “But yours, nonetheless”
And you want him to be yours.
This is wrong to feel so greedy, to want a creature this dangerous. But were demons not once angels who deserved forgiveness and love?
So shifting your face you turn and place a kiss against Ezra’s palm.
Now when you hear the sermons, when you hear Ezra preach, you will think of Eve with sympathy because you understand.
You too fell for the serpent.
After all, evil never looks so beautiful as it does holding you. And desire never tasted so divine, never felt so holy.
Outside your window, the wildflowers begin to rot and the sudden rumble of a thunderstorm rolls in.
you're a witch that summons only the parts of a demon for "fun times" and you're pleasantly surprised when two cocks sprout from the wall where you drew your summoning circle. You're having the best time until the demon decides he wants more and comes through the circle, introducing himself as Ezra before fucking you until you're both satisfied. You can barely remember your name, let alone his after he's done with you.
perhaps I'll write the full version in october?? who knows
I like the idea of him being more like a fox because of The Magician, they appearence and personality are alike. If your apprentice had become a demon, how would they look in appearance?
