Priest!Luke x F reader smut.
Warnings: sexual content involving catholic figures/objects/symbols; explicit description of sex; sex in church; hints of demon!michael; catholic guilt; mentions of prayers
Author's note: priest!luke is finally here and i beg you to read this with an open mind, i know religion can be a sensitive topic for a lot of people so if that's your case please don't read this. that being said, i had so much fun writing this and it inspired me to write more things like this, perhaps i should invest on writing demon!michael... ALSO i had to look up and do my research when it came to the prayers and religious dialogs so just know i did my best lolol. and last but not least: enjoy yourself.
(Forgive me, Father., visuals)
–”Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned”– you begin. Fingers trembling as you fidget with the rosary in your hands –”it has been a week since my last confession.”
–”Go ahead, my child”– the raspy voice sounds through the thin sheer curtain that splits the booth into two.
–”I have sinned in terrible ways, Father,”– your shaky voice cracks as your chest rises and falls at an increasing speed –”I failed and gave into temptation once more.” — Your words are quiet, the church is silent to the point that whispers echo, even the most hushed words were clear as day to Father Luke's ears –”I have done repugnant things to men who aren't my husband.”
The silence is heavy on the other end. Your eyes slowly scan the sheer curtain and the outline of his face tilted down while intently listening to you. Not even the fabric separating the two of you could contain the strong scent of his cologne, citric, torturous, dangerous, delicious. You inhale deeply as your body embarrassingly you once again, making you squeeze your thighs on your seat.
–”I let men touch me, Father. I let men touch me with their filthy sinful hands and bodies. Sometimes when I close my eyes I can still feel them on me… Their fingers, their words, their smell…”– you let the sentence trail off.
The angelic side profile tilts up like a dog's ears perking up. He looks into the wooden wall in front of him. Your mind was already betraying you once again, you can almost be certain you were going crazy once you think you caught a glimpse of the man licking his lips.
–”What is it that you've done, my child?”– the voice is soft and quiet like embodied velvet. In the corner of your eyes, you see his face still turned to the wooden wall in front of him, the small booth feeling tighter as tension seems to replace the oxygen and your stomach turning at the thought of admitting your sins to the holy figure next to you. You internally debate whether or not to let him in in your disgusting habits. The silence weighs a ton, your heartbeat is deafening in your ears and you're afraid he might hear it too. Your shaky fingers grip onto the rosary tighter as if it's going to protect you from the shame and regret you carry from coming back every Monday to regain the honor of entering His house when you make the great passage.
–”Go ahead”– the quiet encouragement sounds through the sheer fabric that separates you and his presence –”You must confess your sins sincerely and in detail, so that I may grant you absolution and free you from the burden of guilt and shame” – he says tilting his head down once more and you feel shivers shoot down your spine, afraid that he could sense your nervousness.
–”I went to a night club.”– You start and immediately look down at the rosary on your lap, desperately in need to hide away from the shame that paints your face in a pink blush –”soulless bodies all around, unholy music, painted faces with hollow eyes and nothing but bad intentions. I was taken by the sin of greed and lust and gave into temptation, drinking alcohol to the point that my head was spinning and I was unable to finish one Hail Mary in my head. I couldn't hear my thoughts anymore, Father. I felt hands grab my waist as I danced like a filthy whore. I couldn't see the man's face but I could feel his need pressed against me.”– You admit quietly as a tear manages to slip down your cheek.
The man next to you hums in understanding as you continue to share your secrets.
–”Suddenly I didn't remember who I was anymore. I left with that man. A man who isn't my husband. He took me to his house and I couldn't resist it. I let his hands travel around my body like a snake ready to attack at any moment”– you whisper –”the worst part, Father, is that I enjoyed every second of it.”
Memories flash through your head like lightning bolts as you close your eyes and take a deep breath. The music was loud and your vision was blurry, your body buzzing with endorphins as you moved to the beat as your friends came back to the dance floor with another round of drinks. You laughed freely and loosely when your favorite song came on and you jumped up and down like a maniac, screaming and singing from the top of your lungs as the drinks swam in your bloodstream, the adrenaline of living the night life with your friends completely blinding you from the extensive list of sins you've been committing since the moment you agreed to go out another weekend.
Your friends danced around you, motivating you to let loose as you stood near the edge of a cliff about to dive in head first to hell. You noticed the mood shifting, your muscles tensed and your knuckles whitened around the glass that had started to sweat in your hand. You feel yourself becoming lightheaded and suddenly the loud music was distancing itself, the bright flashing lights made your vision tunnel. Your gaze locks with your friend in front of you, noticing a mischievous smirk on her face before she glances over your shoulder. For a split second she looked at you again before her and the rest of your group friend walked a few steps away from where you were.
Not even a millisecond later, firm hands were gripping your hips and pulling you against the body behind you. You continued to dance, feeling the intensity radiating from the presence behind you. Your body moved like you weren’t in control anymore, like something else had completely overpowered your actions and was suddenly in charge of your every breath. Your hips moved side to side, swaying purposefully, determined. The large frame towered over you from behind, you felt how his hips moved against yours, pressing, teasing, tempting.
You take a deep breath but your lungs don't seem to get enough oxygen, your throat tight and mouth dry as you build up the courage to turn around. You tilt your head just enough to be able to look over your shoulder, immediately finding a pair of intense green eyes staring back at you like a predator waiting to attack his prey.
There was a hint of a smirk on the man's face, your gaze lowered to watch it slowly turn into a grin, canine teeth sharp enough to draw blood. Your eyes traveled up his facial features and you tried to identify whatever it was that was setting alarms off in your head. At the same time that he made you want to turn around and run until you couldn't feel your legs, there was something intriguing about him, your body felt the need to be around him, you suddenly wanted this strange man like nothing else you've ever wanted. And you wanted him to yourself, a greedy haze forming as your brain began to drown in lust-filled thoughts.
You turned in your heels, finally facing him completely. Your body moved like it knew what it was doing even though your brain was not aware.
There was something about him. Something. The gravitational force seemed to be pulling you in more and more, his pupils dilated to the point that you almost forgot they had another color once, only seeing black orbs underneath the red fringe that framed his face. Then you noticed his hair as well, bright red ink covered his head, the same shade of red you'd expect to see in the pits of hell.
You felt tension grow in your stomach, the adrenaline of unpredictability made you feel like you could pass out at any moment. You felt like the world disappeared around you, at this moment, it was only you and the large frame towering you.
You try to look away, you try to take a step back, you try to scream. Nothing happens. There's a side to you that is conscious of what this man was here for, he knew his main goal was to corrupt you. You knew exactly what he wanted. In your head, you begin to try and regain composure, trying to force yourself to snap out of this trance.
Hail Mary, full of Grace…
The bright red haired guy's lips curled up and his eyebrows shot up just so slightly, Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he stared down at you. His tongue slid in between his lips and you noticed that there was no green in his eyes and you started to wonder if there ever was. Your spine felt stiff as fear filled your soul, but the curiosity and will to satisfy your needs with his presence was even stronger.
Your breath caught in your throat as if there was only a straw sized gap in your airways allowing you to breathe.
You couldn't remember the next line. The prayer that you've been preaching since you were a little girl. Your eyes scanned his face in search of more details that could seem just slightly different than before.
Hail Mary, full of Grace,
His face lit up like he knew you were trying to save your pathetic sin free life. The words scramble in your head, you try to visualize the lines but the letters jump from place to place, not allowing you to pray. His eyes were locked with yours, the darkness in his gaze was electrifying.
It seemed to amuse him the way you were trying to behave.
Blessed art thou among women
The red haired man's grin widens like it was his favorite thing in the world to watch as you try to understand what was going on.
His hand moved up to your chin, thumb pressed on it as his fingers touched your cheek. A ring clad every one of his fingers, different shapes and symbols all over them and they clinked with his feather-light touch on your face. Suddenly he leaned down, his face inches from yours. His warm breath fanned your lips and the tension in your stomach grew tighter.
You search your brain for the next line of the prayer but you don't remember anymore what you were praying. You try again.
Our Father, who art in heaven
The man's lips curl into a small smirk once again, somehow it was like he knew you were attempting to connect yourself to God.
–”He can't save you now, sweetheart. You're mine.”– he says. His voice isn't loud but even with the music blasting from the speakers, his words were clear as day to you.
The plump pink lips brushing against yours were torturous and you felt goosebumps shoot down your body. He inhales a sharp breath, and, like a switch turning off, your mind goes blank. Nothing feels real anymore. A cold wave hit you from inside out, burning your interior, you felt your skin sting in a delicious mixture of fire and ice.
Your body is warm but now it's just a shell. His lips finally crashed against yours and they were much softer than you expected, tongue smooth against yours and you felt euphoria kicking in as the fresh taste of mint mixed with something bitter took over your mind. The kiss was addicting and intense, his hands found their way down to your ass covered by a dress that was way too short while your hands were resting on his shoulders.
You kiss him back with fervor, your mind was taken by a blissful haze as the tension in your stomach was replaced by warmth that traveled straight down between your legs.
He was not like anyone you had kissed before. He was better. So much better. You felt your heartbeat picking up speed and your hands moved up from his shoulders to the sides of his neck, fingers playing with strands of red hair.
You hissed when he bit down on your bottom lip, hard enough for you to taste your own blood. But for some reason, it didn't hurt. It felt good, too damn good. Your hands pulled on his hair, desperate for more, the greed blinding your senses and making you want every bit of this man.
Your fingers explored his hair, pulling and scratching the back of his neck with every nibble on your bottom lip. One of his hands was still firm on your ass, squeezing hard and threatening to lift your dress right there on the dance floor, his other hand was on your jaw, thumb still pressed on your chin.
His arm moved up to your waist, wrapped tight around you as you broke the kiss. The mysterious man began to walk with you through the crowd of sweaty and drunk people dancing. Your legs moved beside him, following his steps, weirdly synchronized; you didn't know where you were going, but you knew you could trust him. Something felt off, like you tried to form a coherent thought but it would go nowhere, he was the only thing in your brain. He moved through your thoughts like smoke, like temptation made visible, it filled your mind even though the rest of you felt shallow.
With the blink of an eye, you came back to, realizing you were now sitting on this man's thigh, on a c-shaped black leather couch with a round table that fit perfectly in the private booth at the night club. More people sat around you on the couch, everyone laughed loudly and tried to talk over the music. You also realized that now, the red haired man underneath you was wearing sunglasses, he laughed along with his friends, one hand firm on your thigh as the other one held a joint between his fingers. You were completely taken by him, you needed him, you needed your body and his to become one. You had never felt like this before.
You open your eyes again to stare at the wooden wall in front of you. You had gone into a trance thinking about everything that happened between you and the mysterious figure from the weekend before. You aren't sure how much you've actually verbalized to Father Luke. All you know is that he let you go with the repentance of praying 10 Our Fathers and 10 Apostle's Creed.
You're lost in your thoughts as you exit the church, knees hurting from sitting on them while doing the absolution prayers.
The week went by slowly, torturously so. The amount of times you had gotten intrusive memories of the red haired man on top of you, looking down at you with his face contorted in pleasure, the green in his eyes were gone and you weren't sure if it was the alcohol, the weed, or the fog that took over your brain, but when you took a glance at the wall beside the bed, the silhouette of the man looked odd, it didn't match reality. You squinted, trying to come up with logical explanations to why there were horn-shaped shadows on his head, the same way you tried to explain the way his eyes switched from a beautiful shade of green to fully black orbs. All you knew was that he made you feel things you had never felt before.
During work, doing house chores, reading, watching tv, at church. Your memory keeps coming back in flashes. Your head was overflowing with the guilt and shame that came with the intense pleasure that the stranger made you feel that night. All it took you was closing your eyes for a split second and the images took over your mind again, the red hair draped over his face as his mouth worked on your core, soft tongue separating your folds and finding your sensitive spot.
The embarrassment of having felt so good with a man that isn't your husband made your stomach turn. The way you lusted over the stranger would have to be shoved into a tiny box in the back of your brain and locked away forever.
After long days of work, house chores, boring sex with the man who you share your bed with, the weekend rolls around again. Your friends beg you to go out with them. They mention how much fun you had the last time and you don't know how to explain to them that that is exactly why you can't go anymore.
You're on your knees beside your bed, your husband snores as you pray quietly, rosary tangled between your fingers as you ask for forgiveness and apologize for being a filthy slut.
Your phone buzzes on the bed, screen lighting up for the tenth time in the past hour. You stare at your friend's name as she calls you and texts you begging you to go with them. You rush to finish your prayers and you grab your phone, sneaking out of the bedroom silently and picking up the call.
–”Holy fuck, finally.”– her voice is loud on the other end, muffled music and laughter sounded through the phone –”You could at least reply to a text or two, don't you think?”
You pinch the bridge of your nose, sighing quietly as you walk to the bathroom, closing the door and sitting on the toilet lid.
–”It's 10pm, Mel”– you complain quietly, careful to not disturb your husband behind the door.
–”On a Saturday night!”– she yells –”Listen, I understand that since you converted yourself to be a nun or whatever, you changed your way of living but c'mon [Y/N]”– she sighs –”I miss you.”
Your chest suddenly felt tight. You missed going out as well, you missed your friends, you missed hanging out with them without worrying about sinning. But the Lord had shown you a better path to follow, you heard His calling and you converted to being a catholic.
–”I miss you too”– you admit quietly.
–”Listen, if you're not gonna come because of us, maybe you'll come for the hot guy with the red hair that you banged last week”– she says with a chuckle.
Your heart stops in your chest, you feel cold sweats hitting you as goosebumps make the hairs on your arms stand up.
–”What?”– you ask breathing heavily –”He's there?”– you try to not sound desperate.
–”Yeah, just walked past us in line and just got in the club. Your name is on the list if you change your mind”– she says with a chuckle.
Your eyes scan the bathroom counter and you glance at the makeup bag you only use when you forget to follow God's will to live simply and humbly. Your heart pounds against your ribcage at the thought of seeing him again. You can't think straight anymore. Your hands become shaky and sweaty as you whisper to your friend.
After doing your makeup at light speed and silently opening the closet to grab the box hidden right at the back under all the clothes hanging from the rack, you quickly change and slip into a skirt that barely covers your thighs and a tight top along with matching black heels. You place the box back to its hiding spot and you leave the house, blinded by the idea of him.
You get out of the uber and messily stumble towards the club's front door. You say your name to the bouncer who gladly lets you inside.
Your eyes desperately scan the place, it's different being here when you're sober. It feels like it's a completely different room even though you've been coming here for years. After finding your friends, your next goal is to find the mysterious red haired man. The music made your body vibrate, your bones buzzing with every note of the songs. You chew on the inside of your cheek as your eyes desperately study the people around you.
Then they land on him. You freeze. Your pulse quickens and you can feel your heartbeat on your neck. Your lips part slightly at the sight and you try to pick your brain to force yourself to process the present moment.
Across the room, blue eyes stared back at you. Blond curls messily framed his face sticking to his forehead as beads of sweat made his skin glow, button-up shirt missing the top half buttons, chest exposed, inviting collarbones peaked from under the silk fabric of his shirt. The smile on his face faded just as fast as you decided to come to the party when you found out the red haired guy was here. His lips parted looking at you as if trying to mouth something.
Father Luke's cheeks burned into a bright shade of pink like a kid who got caught red handed. The eye contact is only broken when a girl next to him starts kissing him, her hands playing with the sweaty curls as she presses herself against him.
You're unable to look away from the scene unfolding in front of you, you shamelessly stare at the man you've been confessing your sins to making out sloppily with a girl whose hands travel up and down his body.
A lightning bolt shoots down your spine out a sudden, the now familiar sensation of having your brain turning into mist makes you realize that he was near as well.
–”I realized I never told you my name,”– you hear his raspy voice from behind, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear– “how rude of me”– his voice is soft, almost lulling.
You tilt your head to the side as he begins to drag his fingertips down the side of your neck.
–”I'm Michael,”– he says before biting softly on your neck, sharp canines making you moan quietly –”like the archangel”– he whispers extra quietly but to you it sounds like he had three megaphones in front of him –”but you already know that, don't you, sweetheart?”
His fingers wrap around your throat deliciously and your eyes flutter closed for a moment. When you open them again, Father Luke is gone. But Michael is still behind you, his body warm against yours as he pressed himself on your ass.
Your principles have shifted since you saw your reference and symbol of purity being corrupted right in front of your eyes. You weren't sure who you were anymore.
That night you managed to come back home before the sunrise after long hours of Michael fucking you senseless. You took your makeup off, threw your pajamas back on and drifted off to sleep next to your husband.
About three hours later, you roll out of bed, dragging your feet to the bathroom. You stare at yourself in the mirror, taking a deep breath in and starting to get ready for the morning Sunday mass.
During the whole ride, you think about how you're gonna face him. About how you're going to spend an hour hearing him preach about God and His ways while only a few hours ago you were witnessing him divert every moral a priest is obliged to have.
You could tell how he avoided your gaze during mass even if you were sitting at the front row with your husband. He avoided that whole side of the church, as if your eyes carried poison that would kill him with one glance.
Once he gives out the final blessing of the ceremony, the church empties slowly. You watch from afar how he greets everyone at the door and gives them personal blessings.
–”Honey, I'm gonna confess and then run some errands, why don't you go home and wait for me?”– You tell your husband with a soft smile.
With a goodbye kiss, you part ways.
You stand in front of the administrative office where you knew Father Luke usually stayed in and you wait for him.
When the last elderly people leave the church, he walks up to the hallway that leads to the door. Better yet, the hallway that leads to you.
–”Father Luke, I'd like to confess.”– you say with your chin lifted, confidence spreading across your chest like wildfire.
His piercing blue eyes stare at you with an unreadable expression. He walks past you and unlocks the office door, stepping inside and leaving it opened for you.
You enter right after him.
He sits on his chair and you take the empty one next to him. His priest attire included black slacks and a black button-up, finished off with a white collar tight around his neck.
–”Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”
–”What troubles your mind today, my child?”– his voice is charged with an unknown weight, tension sparked like electricity with every word.
–”I've been having impure thoughts, Father”– you say slowly, quietly.
The placing of the chairs next to each other is meant to comfort the person doing the confessing, so the pressure of looking into someone's eyes doesn't stop them from being completely honest with the sins that are shared in this room. In your case, though, Luke's cologne was fueling the heat inside you, the sight of his long fingers fidgeting with a gold rosary on his lap was driving you insane.
–”You must be honest about your sins so I can give you complete absolution of the shame and guilt you carry”– his voice was shaky and hesitant, you knew that deep inside he didn't want you to say anything about him or the night before. His nervousness was palpable. You had him in the palm of your hand.
–”Father, my mind has been taken by lustful thoughts. I have been questioning so many things and overthinking is slowly killing me”– you admit quietly, your posture is completely different from last week's, now you have power and nothing seems to
Luke lets out a sigh, clears his throat and shifts in his seat like he sensed what it was coming.
–”What is it that occupies your thoughts, child?”– he asks quietly, his eyes staring at the crucifix of the rosary.
–”I've been wondering, Father, I've been wondering what happened with you and that girl after I lost sight of you,”– you say just as quietly –”I've been wondering if you touched her, Father. If she made you feel good about sinning. I've been wondering if you felt as good about being corrupted by temptation as I did.”
The silence is deafening, your heartbeat pumped the blood in your veins faster than ever. Luke’s hands were fidgety, his fingers were shaky and you finally tilt your head up and to the side, looking at his angelic face. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead and he gulped as if trying to swallow his embarrassment.
–”I shall not disclose this topic with you.”– he said while he worked up the courage to meet your gaze.
–”Oh, but Father,”– your lips curl upwards into a devilish smirk, your fingertips find his jaw and forces him to look into your eyes. Blue eyes full of shame, pink cheeks painted with regret. He looked more beautiful than ever –”It did feel good, didn't it?”– you ask quietly.
He breathes heavily, afraid to answer.
The smirk on your face grows and your pupils dilate as the man in front of you is completely at your mercy.
–”You must pray on it, Father,”– you whisper to him, your legs instinctively spreading open on the chair –”you must repent.”– You demand.
Luke’s eyes fall to your legs, his gaze could burn holes on you. His dimples deepen as he licks his lips and nibbles on his bottom lip. You watch as he slowly slides off the chair beside you, falling to his knees in front of you.
–”Pray, Father”– you whisper and your fingers begin to slowly tug on the church appropriate skirt you picked out just for him –”You must ask for forgiveness.”
His eyes are fixated on yours as you speak, you hold all the power over the man kneeling between your legs.
–”Forgive me, Lord, for I have sinned,”– he says quietly, his knuckles whitening as he grips onto the rosary tighter –”I have allowed temptation to turn my gaze away from Thy holiness”– he continues.
Your fingers continue to pull on your own skirt, nodding in approval as Luke prayed.
–”I humbly seek comfort in Thy grace instead of sin”– he chokes on his words once you lift your skirt completely, revealing the red panties you chose to wear today. The confidence you radiate comes from the pride of finally getting what you've been wanting for so long.
You hold the skirt up around your waist, legs spread open in front of him and his eyes stare at the wet spot on the fabric.
–”Go on, Father”– you encourage.
–”My spirit grieves for the moments I turned from Thee, seeking fleeting pleasure instead of eternal grace”– he tries to concentrate.
His tongue slides between his lips, you knew his mouth was watering at the sight of your legs spread open like that.
Your fingers slowly trace down your own stomach and hips, finding your aching clit through your underwear. Your digits move in slow circles over it, making you moan quietly as the man's face lowers closer to your core.
–”Wash me clean, O Lord of Mercy. Let Thy light burn away the shadow that clings to my heart.”– he says quietly, eyes studying how the damp spot on your underwear grows –”Teach me to love as Thou lovest — with patience, reverence and truth”.
You nod slowly, your fingers find the side of your underwear, and, with a deep breath, you pull it to the side, revealing your glistening pussy to the man in front of you. Luke lets out a strained moan at the sight, he's torn between prayer and the delicious sight in front of him. His moan could also be heard as a cry for help, split between his desire and his willingness to do what's right. Your finger traces a stripe up and down between your folds, parting them slightly as you spread yourself for his eyes.
–”May my sorrow be my offering, and my repentance,”– he whispers, his face coming closer to your soaked core – “the door through which I return to Thee,”– he gulps the saliva overflowing his mouth– “Amen.”
That's the last word he says before his tongue sticks out and touches your pussy. In the first second it seems like a switch was flipped in his head, his eyes roll back with pleasure once his tongue licks you up and down, tasting the sweetness of sin and he groans against your skin. You moan, throwing your head back, Luke's hands travel to grasp onto your thighs, the rosary still tangled between his fingers as he looks up at you, his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking it into his mouth.
His big hands spread your legs wider, rosary firm in his hand as his digits bruise your thigh. You feel his tongue sliding in and out of you, licking your wetness and drinking it like holy water. He whimpers against your pussy like it pains him to love it so much, he nibbles on your clit with his lips and he flicks his tongue side to side, making your back arch off the chair.
–”More”– you beg quietly but it comes out in a demanding tone, to which Luke doesn't dare say no to. His hand that holds the rosary slides off your thigh and his fingers tease your entrance, his eyes looking up at you silently asking to fuck you with his fingers. You nod immediately and he doesn't waste a second before pushing two fingers inside you.
–”So greedy”– he moans as he curls his fingers inside you, repeatedly hitting the sensitive spot that makes you see stars. Before you could say anything back, his tongue was back to licking you with hunger, like he was afraid someone was going to take you away from him. He pumps his fingers in and out of you as his tongue presses against your clit, massaging it nonstop.
You feel tension building up in your lower stomach, your walls flutter around his fingers and he looks up at you ready to throw you over the edge. He sucks on your clit again, harder, rougher, his fingers move faster and deeper, still curling up perfectly. With a loud groan you finally cum, wetness dripping down his fingers and coating the rosary in his hand. He doesn't hesitate before licking you over and over, afraid to miss a single drop.
You pant heavily, chest rising and falling quickly as he moves back up to his feet. His pants tented with his erection and the outline of his cock made you salivate. He leans down towards your face, grabbing your cheeks with one hand and kissing you desperately. You taste yourself on his tongue and it makes you blush, you moan into his mouth as his hand moves to your hair, pulling it and yanking your head back, forcing you to look up at him.
–”Clean after yourself”– he orders and you look at him. He puts his hand right in front of your face, the rosary in between his fingers coated with your release dangled in front of your eyes. His other hand releases your hair to grab your jaw, making you open your mouth. You stick your tongue out and you feel the cross shaped metal on it, you lick and suck on it, eyes glued to his. He nods as you continue to clean the rosary with your mouth, his hand letting go of your hair and moving to squeeze himself through his pants.
He pulls the rosary out of your mouth and he pulls you up to your feet, guiding you to the dark wooden table in the middle of the room. You allow him to position you as he pleases, lifting one of your legs over the table and bending over it, your chest pressed against the wood as you arch your back for him. Luke is quick to lift your skirt again, groaning at the sight of you exposed to him perfectly.
With agility, the big hands pull the red panties down your thighs letting it pool around your ankle as the other one is still up on the table.
–”Look at yourself”– his voice is quiet, dangerous. His hands spread you apart open and the sight of your needy holes makes him moan –”God, forgive me for wanting to fuck this woman more than anything I've ever wanted before”– he mumbles under his breath to himself, like you weren’t supposed to hear it. His words make your cheeks blush into a deeper shade of red and the air escapes your lungs when you feel the warmth of his tongue licking you front to back. You hear how he unbuckles his belt, how the zipper slides down and then a relieved sigh.
You turn your head to look over your shoulder and you melt on top of the wooden table when your eyes study how his hand wrapped around the thick, long cock, stroking it up and down slowly, causing the pink swollen tip to leak pre-cum. You whimper at the most sinful image you've ever seen. The gold rosary between his fingers danced along with the movement of his hand around his cock, his other hand moving up from his forehead to his chest, then touching his left shoulder and finishing off on his right shoulder.
You moan and can't help but smirk at how he made the sign of the cross become something so attractive.
–”Are you afraid, Father?”– you ask while your hands reach behind you, spreading your cheeks apart for him, earning an audible whimper from his plump lips.
–”No”– he lies, stepping closer to you between your legs, the leaking head gently touching your pussy, parting your folds as he rubs himself against your clit.
–”You're a terrible liar, Father.”– You moan. You reach underneath yourself, fingers exploring your soaked pussy and touching his tip pressed up against your core –”You might be afraid now but it will feel so good in a second”– you encourage.
Your eyebrows frown when he steps back, your pussy aching in desperation twitches as the warmth of his cock leaves you. Then you look back at him and you watch as he mouths silent words under his breath, a quiet prayer in hopes that God would forgive the unforgivable sins he was about to commit while he began to wrap the rosary around his length over and over until it was tight around his base, making it pulse harder and twitch repeatedly. The rosary strangled the base of his cock tightly, making his tip look even more swollen and slick with pre cum. The crucifix dangled underneath his dick as he positioned himself once again between your legs.
His blue eyes meet yours as his hand guides his cock to your pussy once again, this time, lining it perfectly on your hole. He watches your face intently as he begins to push himself inside, your eyes fluttering closed, moaning at the stretch.
–”So fucking tight”– he groans while finally pushing all of it inside, bottoming out.
–”All for you, Father”– you say in a moan.
–”Now look who's lying,”– he says while he rolls his hips, thrusting inside you repeatedly. His movements seemed almost calculated, like one wrong motion could make him snap back into reality and regret everything he's doing –”every damn week you come into confession and talk about how you let filthy men touch you, how you act like a whore when you drink”– his own words seem to spur him on, making him thrust faster and deeper inside you –”and every damn week I think to myself what I wouldn't give to be the one who gets to fuck this tight pussy to ruins”– he groans and his thrusts become harder, carried with determination.
You moan loudly, your voice echoing through the room along with his words.
–”You loved knowing what those men did to me, didn't you?”– you whimper –”You loved it when I told you about how every weekend a different guy got to touch and fuck my pussy while you were trapped in this prison of a life you chose for yourself”– you say with renewed confidence.
Your head is suddenly yanked back, tight fingers pull your hair making you squeal in a mixture of pain and pleasure, his teeth sink on the side of your neck, biting hard enough to leave a bruise and he growls with his lips brushing the shell of your ear.
–”Don't talk about my life like yours is so much better, sweetheart”– he whispers, his thrusts becoming harder and less gentle with each word –”you fuck whoever's in front of you when you're drunk and then you go back to your sad pathetic life with that imbecile of a husband of yours”– he says while letting go of your hair, his hand landing sharply on your ass, making your body jolt with the sting.
He pulls out of you but before you can even complain, he's turning you around, making you lay on your back with your legs spread open on the wood table. You realize now that his hair is messier than the night before at the party, the damp curls sticking to his forehead, the white collar tight around his neck making the veins around it pop, his cock still being strangled with the rosary around his base making it turn into a furious shade of red.
His hands find the hem of your blouse, he hisses while lifting the fabric over your chest, revealing the bra that barely contained your breasts. He places the shirt between your teeth, forcing you to hold it up while he pulls your bra down to your waist. He looks down at your pussy once again while guiding his cock back inside and once he's deep inside you again, his thrusts become erratic, harder and deeper than before.
He looked down at you with his lips parted, panting heavily and cussing under his breath, eyes heavy like his lashes weighted a ton, brows furrowed as if he tried to concentrate on the pleasure. He looked divine, like a pure angel learning the pleasures of falling in temptation. But he just looked like it. Luke definitely knew what he was doing, it was definitely not his first time.
His hands snaked up your body to squeeze your tits harshly, pinching your nipples before leaning down to capture one of them in his mouth, licking and sucking while quiet whimpers escaped him. You were going insane. You felt addicted to the sensation of his cock sliding in and out of you, you felt like you could spend hours having him worshipping your pussy like it's his own personal God.
You throw your head back on the wood surface beneath you and your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling his curls as his mouth traces kisses towards your other nipple, licking it slowly and circling your hard peak with his soft tongue. He sucked it into his mouth before gently scraping his teeth on it and looking up at you through his lashes.
Your hand travels down your own body, finding your swollen and needy clit, massaging it at the same speed as his cock impaled you over and over. You gasp as your walls begin to flutter around him again and you look up at him.
–”That's it, that's it”– he whispers, biting gently on the soft skin of your tits before his tongue traces a wet path up your collarbones, your neck and jaw and finally meets your own mouth –”gonna come for me, aren't you? Gonna make such a beautiful mess around my fucking cock”– he whispers into your mouth, his words making your pussy squeeze him more and more, earning grunts and whimpers from him.
You just nod, unable to form a full sentence. You kiss him again and again, moaning on his lips as your hand is just a blur while massaging your clit at light speed.
–”G-gonna come”– you manage to say and your legs shake on the table. Luke takes the opportunity to throw them over his broad shoulders and to lean down to tower your body again, finding a new angle that hits the perfect spot inside you. His hand is fast to cover your mouth tightly, his thrusts become impossibly deeper and harder as your hole convulses around him, squirting your release onto the table and down your thighs. Your moan is muffled by his hand, your eyes roll to the back of your skull and your hands grasp onto his hair, his forehead pressed against yours with his icy blue eyes staring deep into your soul.
He continues to thrust a few more times, making sure to drag your orgasm on, he only stops when you're squirming under him and whimpering due to the sensitivity.
He pulls his still hard cock out and he glances at your messy and used hole, dripping with release.
–”Look at that”– he says quietly while tapping his dick a few times against your swollen lips. He groans and he signals to you with his fingers –”up”.
You don't hesitate, even if your legs are still shaking, you stand up in front of him.
–”Get on your knees”– he orders, chin tilted up while looking down at you.
You do as he says, kneeling in front of him. Your face is now inches away from his length, you study how the rosary squeezes him like a proper cock ring with a crucifix resting on his balls. You lick your lips, mouth watering.
You look up at him as you stick your tongue out, collecting the droplets of pre cum from his tip. You wrap your lips around his head, gaze still locked with his, you swirl your tongue around it and the man throws his head back while running his hands through your hair, brushing it back and holding it in a ponytail. You lower your head on him, pushing more and more of him down your throat, gagging slightly with saliva dripping down your chin.
Luke holds your hair firmly with both hands, he begins to roll his hips again, thrusting into your mouth to meet your movement and his voice cracks from a groan to a whimper that echoes through the room. He breathes heavily as the squelching wet sounds of your throat taking him take over his brain, looking down at you nodding softly in encouragement.
Luke holds your head still by pulling on your hair and he finally begins to fuck your mouth properly, thrusting harder and deeper, making you gag and more spit dribble down your chin and neck. He does that for a few moments before he pulls out of your mouth and allows you to take a deep, desperate breath, marks of your nails on his thighs from where you held onto for support. The man looks down at you while stroking himself and he pets the top of your head with a grin on his face.
–”I've seen you on your knees so many times and not one of those times you looked as beautiful as you do right now.”– he sighs while his tip slides between your lips –”Next time you kneel to pray, you're gonna think of me, you'll think of your mouth being so stuffed with my cock that you can't even think let alone pray. Every time you get on your knees to talk to God you will wish I was in front of you with my dick on your face. Isn't that right, pretty?”
You're just listening to his words like it's your favorite sound, looking up at him and nodding pathetically.
–”Yes, Father”– you reply.
–”Good girl”– he praises. His hand lifts his cock and gives you a better view of the crucifix resting on his balls, you immediately dive in, licking and sucking them into your mouth. You pull away just enough for you to spit directly onto the metal cross, watching it drip down his balls and thighs. You suck on them again, licking and playing with the crucifix on your tongue.
–”So fucking close, pretty girl. Gonna fucking cum all over this beautiful mouth of yours”– he promises.
He guides his cock back into your mouth and resumes fucking it, harder and faster than before. His moves are sloppy, desperate, chasing his release. His breath turned into gasps as his balls tightened, his cock twitched in your mouth and, with a loud moan, he came on your tongue. He continues to thrust in your mouth, making sure to feed you every last bit of it.
–”Show me”– he says when he finally pulls out. You immediately stick your tongue out, showing him the white layer coating it.
You whimper quietly looking up at him. He nods slowly, his thumb reaching to rub your tongue gently, spreading his release all around it. Then you feel the familiar shape being traced when Luke draws a cross with his cum on your tongue. –”Swallow”– he orders. You obey.
He helps you move up to your feet again, you lower your skirt and fix your bra before lowering your blouse as well. You look around though, something's missing.
–”Looking for this?”– Luke asks, holding the red panties in his hand. You blush and chuckle quietly while you reach to grab it but he pulls his arm away. –”That's mine now, pretty”– he says, stepping closer to you.
–”Is that so?”– you ask quietly, your eyes flickering between his eyes and his lips.
He nods, kissing you softly.
–”When you confess next week, make sure to wear a black one”– he whispers on your lips –”it's my favorite.”
a/n: SOOOOO what did you guys think? i told u u should read it with an open mind lmao, also a few things: i did have to google a bunch of words and/or repentance prayers so if theres anything thats wrong or sounds weird please ignore it, its googles fault hehe!! please let me know what you think and what else youd like me to write :))))))
