Page 12 of Sacred Virtues
Aware that there might be others about, I grab him roughly and pull him through the nearest door. The chapter house. I turn the key and turn, leaning against the door.
“What are you doing, wandering the abbey at night, or at all? I told you this area is private,” I demand, allowing anger to come to the forefront, as I don’t want to investigate the other emotions playing through me right now. He doesn’t answer and I can’t see him well in the gloom, so I reach for the candles and flint I know are beside the door. With a little light I can now see he’s sitting on one of the benches, his head bowed.
“Emmett,” I say sharply and he raises his head. Hope brims in his blue eyes and he chews on his bottom lip. It’s endearing and some of my anger dissipates.
“I wanted to see you,” he says, so forlornly, and I resist the urge to go and comfort him. I take a deep breath and close my eyes to the image of him so I can think clearly.
“Do you understand what you’ve done coming in here? If anyone sees you, sees me . . . Do you realise how bad this is? Unless that’s your intention. Do you want to see me hanged?”
I hear a sharp intake of breath and open my eyes. Emmett is shaking his head wildly.
“Because if that is your plan, to have me dragged from here, hung and quartered in the village square and everyone here left with nothing, then it’s going well. Shall I holler and attract attention? Get it over and done with?” Fear that this could behis design rises and my heart races as sweat begins to bead on my brow. Self indulgence and lust have led me to this point. I see my error now. I shouldn’t have given in last night. Even then I should have signed and made him leave this morning, not spent the day deliberating, allowing carnal thoughts to cloud my decisions. The clarity I had just now has come too late, and now I’m paying the price. It’s one I deserve.
“No, no, no.” He rises and walks towards me. I flatten myself against the door to try and put as much distance between us as I can. God sent a devil to tempt me and I could not resist. I deserve my fate. He stops in front of me. The devil with the face of an angel, the highest form of temptation. I was not strong enough.
“I don’t want that, Father,” he says quietly. “I’m not going to tell anyone. I promise. I saw you today, preaching like some heavenly messenger, and I knew that all I want is you.”
My head’s dizzy with his proximity, and I take some deep breaths to control my heart rate. I’m not sure I believe him but there might be a way I can salvage this.
“You need to leave, Emmett. Right away, right now,” I grind out, hoping he takes a step away from me. Instead he gives me a small, sweet smile and lifts his hand between us. He opens his fist and sitting on his palm is the small jar of salve.
CHAPTER 10
EMMETT
I’d seen the anger and then the fear, which I did my best to alleviate, but the look he has now is the one I want, the one I’ve craved all day. His eyes are dark and liquid, full of lust. I watch his throat as he swallows and wonder what he would taste like if I licked it. Emboldened by his reaction, I lean in to try. Instead I’m pushed roughly aside, and he rips the jar of salve from my hand.
He marches across the room and starts walking up and down, muttering to himself. He doesn’t even glance my way. Again he’s rejecting me, and I can’t take it anymore. No one makes me feel the way he does. Now that I’ve experienced it, I will not let it go.
The desire that’s been bubbling under the surface all day takes over, and I cross the room and stand in his way. He stops suddenly, his face dark. I reach for him, hoping he doesn’t flinch or turn away. I couldn’t bear it if he did.
I reach out and put my hand at the nape of his neck. He doesn’t move except to turn his head away from me.
“Don’t send me away again. Don’t reject me,” I whisper. “Please, Father.”
He turns his head to look at me and I give him a tentative smile, scared that if I move too fast, he’ll push me off. I slowly step closer and press against him so he can feel how hard I am, how much I want him.
He reaches between us and cups my dick through my hose. I lean into his firm hand, desperate for the pressure, as he runs his thumb up my length and across the end. A whine escapes me and I hear him moan softly in response.
His breath is irregular and his eyes hold a heat that takes my breath away. I lean forward again and gently press my lips to his. I close my eyes, and for a second the only thing I can feel is the hand that pleasures me and the mouth that praises me. Then he pulls back and my eyes blink open. I think he’s going to shove me away, but instead he spins me around and pushes me towards the heavy, carved wooden chair at the side of the room. I almost fall face first into it, and I try to turn back around but he stops me.
“Bend over,” he says in the voice that makes me tingle, and I do as he says, gripping the arms of the chair. I gasp as he pulls down my hose and drawers, freeing my cock and exposing my arse to him. He kneads his fingers into my arse cheeks.
“So beautiful,” he murmurs, and I bend over a little further.
“We’re keen, aren’t we?” he mutters and I hum.
“You’re going to be a good boy for me, aren’t you?” I nod my head and whine, his words making my dick, which has been aroused half the day, hurt even more. I reach for it, wanting to relieve some of the pressure.
“Don’t.” His command immediately stills my hand. “You can’t touch yourself until I tell you. Is that clear?” I nod again and he returns to kneading my arse, squeezing and pulling my cheeks apart. He grazes a finger across my hole and a groan comes out of my mouth. I had no idea it could feel this good. He removes his finger briefly and I catch the scent of herbs as it returns.
“Just relax, or this will hurt.” It’s the only warning I get before his finger pushes into me. I gasp and almost see stars.
He growls slightly, and I try to do what he asks, desperate to please him. He grips my hip with his other hand, holding me steady as his finger goes deeper, pulling in and out of my hole, fast and rough. I bite down on my lip. It hurts, but it also feels so good, and I find myself pushing back on him. He adds another finger, twisting hard a couple of times before grunting and withdrawing his hand. Although the sting has gone, the sensation of suddenly being empty is almost unbearable.
“Please, Father,” I beg, bending further as if presenting him with more of my arse might hurry him up.
“I’m here.” His voice is a dark snarl. Then I feel the head of his dick against my hole. He breaches me and I choke back a cry, as the sharp pain is like nothing I’ve ever experienced. After a brief pause, he slams all the way in with such force I nearly hit my head on the hard wooden back of the chair. He holds my hips and hauls me back, still impaled on his cock. He starts moving, fast and strong. The initial hurt recedes to a dull burn, which is nothing compared to the delicious feeling of being filled over and over again.
