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Times with Lucius were typically spent well past St. Obsidianโs operating hours. When the church was shrouded in darkness, moonlight trickled through the intricate stained glass windows, casting a kaleidoscope of color across the pews now void of its typical patron. Lucius wasnโt entirely sure if the emptiness soothed his guilt or amplified it tenfoldโฆ Desecrating such a sacred space right under the townsfolks noses.
Heโd hoisted your body up onto the altar, whispered prayers spilling from his lips beneath his breath. Eager as always, his thumbs hooked beneath the waistband of your bottoms to tug them down in his haste. Every breath was ragged, his cock already stirring beneath his cassock with every revealed inch of skin on your body.
Despite his urgency, Lucius always took his time. Fingers threaded through your hair, stilling your head as he trailed kisses along the column of your throat, working his way down ever so slowly. At least momentarily, his shame was pushed aside, though not forgotten. Lucius was far too focused, too intoxicated by the feel of soft skin and the sweet noises he was able to pull from your lips. His resolve crumbled in your mere presence.
Sinking down to his knees, he eased you forward to sit on the edge of the altar as his hands hooked beneath your legs. He draped them over his shoulders, warm lips descending to mouth along your inner thighs.
How could something so carnal feel so divine? It was blasphemousโฆ A sin in every sense of the word. Yet Lucius could never resist the temptation laid out before him like an offering.
His devotion was to the Lord, the greater time of his life spent entirely dedicated to his faith. A devout soul. Yet here he was, in the house of God, worshiping you more fervently than heโd ever worshiped the almighty Himself. Ashamed. Sheepish. But never regretful when it came to you.
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