“I’ve always known their name.”

  “And you know mine.” He slid his other hand up my leg, from the top of my boot, over my bare thigh, and onto my short skirt. “Maybe this is the way it should be for me. One act. One time. One woman. I need this.”

  I believed him. Want shone from his eyes, the way he touched me told me he was a man possessed with desire.

  I couldn’t deny it excited the hell out of me. Though I had to admit, hell was likely where I’d go for this.

  “The Lord sent you to give me strength. This is meant to be, now, us, on this awful violent night. Let us forget about everything but each other and take comfort in that togetherness.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “I’ve been thinking of it for months, if not years. Waiting for the one.”

  “And you think that’s me? I’m the one?”

  “Yes.” He kissed me again.

  Damn the guy could kiss. The pressure was firm and dominant, hungry and urgent.

  The fizz of arousal grew between my legs, the need for more, to get down to business, urging me on. I was a horny bugger once I got going.

  He tugged at my denim jacket, shoving and pushing until it fell to the stone floor. Our kiss didn’t break. His breaths, excited and earnest, blew hard on my cheek and his stubbled chin scratched against my skin.

  “You taste like heaven,” he said, reaching for the base of my sweater and tugging it up and over my head.

  “Do you think you might regret this?” I asked as cool air washed over my hot skin.

  “Hell no.” He looked at my tatty bra. “This has to go.”

  I couldn’t disagree with that statement.

  He unclipped it, with one flick of his fingers, and it fell away.

  He cupped my breasts and stroked over my nipples.

  “Do they feel how you thought they would?” I asked, searching his eyes.

  “Better.” He grinned and kissed me again.

  For a guy that didn’t kiss women he was pretty damn good at it. I guessed it was instinctual in a man that looked like him.

  “God, my cock is so hard,” he murmured.

  “Are you telling me or God?” I stifled a giggle, hearing those words from his divine lips was a mixture of shocking and erotic.

  “Both.” He released my left breast and cupped his groin.

  “Here, let me.” I tugged up the cassock until it was bunched around his thighs. Beneath he wore black denims, a bit worn, and hefty boots. There was a definite bulge going on in the groin area. “Are we really going to do this?” I asked.

  “Yeah.” He nodded. “We are.”

  We were. I didn’t know what kind of penance or Hail Mary’s I’d have to do or say, that wasn’t my thing. That was up to him. But fuck, I was too far gone on the let’s-have-fun-trail to worry.

  “In this movie I saw,” he said, popping open the top button of his jeans. “This woman, beautiful, a bit like you, she…” He shifted and shoved them to his thighs. His black boxers stayed in place.

  “She what?”

  “She, you know…”

  For a moment I wondered if he were embarrassed, self-consciousness, and the newness of this moment had suddenly gotten to him.

  A muffled bang sounded at the back end of the church.

  “What was that?” I asked.

  “Nothing.” He frowned. “Nothing at all.” He reached into his boxers and pulled out his cock.

  Fuck. He was big, circumcised too, and he’d been dead right when he’d said he was hard.

  “Let me,” I said, slipping my hand over his and squeezing the shaft.

  He groaned. “Yeah … that feels good.”

  A sensation of power flooded through me. I was the first woman to touch this guy’s cock.

  Wasn’t I?

  “More,” he said, “give me more.”

  I stroked root to tip, several times. “What did the woman in the movie do?” I asked, adoring the way his jaw had slackened and his eyelids were heavy. He was clearly enjoying my touch.

  “She sucked his cock.” He turned to me. “Like you’re going to do now.”

  “Am I?”

  “Yeah. Don’t make me beg.” He gripped my shoulders and urged me to a kneeling position.

  “But I…” Before I knew it, my knees were on a prayer pillow and he was guiding his cock tip into my mouth.

  “Take me, Cheryl. Give me the best blowjob you’ve ever given. Make my first one a moment I’ll always remember. One to dream about for the rest of my life. Make it worth the sin.”

  How can I refuse him that?

  Besides, blowjobs were a bit of a specialty of mine.

  I sank down, taking him deep. His flavor, musky and spiced, spread over my tongue and his smooth glans slid over my palette.

  He clasped his hands on the back of my head, encouraged me to take more even when I’d reached my limit.

  I fought my gag reflex and gripped his bare thighs. My eyes started to water.

  He’d need to learn a thing or two about receiving. That wasn’t polite.

  “Fuck yeah, give me it like that. Deep throat.”

  Deep throat?

  He bucked his hips, over and over, holding me firm and fucking my mouth. He gasped and panted. Salty pre-cum slipped over my taste buds.

  I tried to push away. It was too much. What was he doing?

  “No. More.” He gripped my hair, tighter.

  Pain shot over my scalp.

  Realization dawned. No way was this Father Steve’s first time getting a blowjob. I’d read about priest in the news, in the papers, they weren’t all they seemed. Sex scandals abounded and it seemed I’d stumbled upon a particularly disreputable one.

  I shoved hard, managed to dislodge him from my mouth. I glared up at him.

  “Why’d you stop?” he asked with a frown.

  A sheen of sweat sat on his brow, and he was breathing hard.

  “Have you been honest with me?”

  “Of course.” He made a cross on his chest with his free hand.

  “About everything?”

  “Well, mostly.” He hooked his hands under my arms, and dragged me upward.

  “You’ve had sex before, haven’t you?” I asked, staring into his eyes.

  “No, never.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “I don’t really care what you believe.” He pulled me close, dragging my legs either side of his so I straddled his lap. “All I know is I’ve got a raging hard-on. I was just about to come and you stopped.”

  Irritation flashed over his eyes, but it was still laced with desire.

  “I stopped because I sensed you’d spun me a yarn.”

  “Whatever.” He yanked at my skirt, tugging it until is sat like a belt at my waist. “And besides, talking is over rated, don’t you think?”

  “No, actually, I—”

  He cut my words off with another one of his lethal, passion-infused kisses. At the same time he tore at my panties, ripping one side of them.

  I moaned, the elastic would leave a sore mark. But damn, he was so hot for me and I couldn’t deny that was a huge turn on.

  He sought out my clit, pressing it with his big fingers.

  I bucked forward, needing more. Despite my anger I still wanted him. My body was awash with desire, my pussy damp with arousal.

  “Jesus Christ you’re a hot little thing,” he said against my mouth.

  “Jesus Christ is watching you,” I said, hoping to induce some kind of shame in him. “From just over my shoulder.”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, I bet he wishes he was me.” He sought my entrance and shoved two fingers in deep. “Poor bugger.”

  I gasped and rocked backward.

  He caught me around the waist with one hand and began to fuck me with his fingers with the other. “Yeah, like that. Good eh? Know what I’m doing, don’t I?” There was a certain smugness to his voice. “Instinct, you see.”

  “Oh God…” The heel of his hand was catching on my clit. He was working me toward orgasm. Virginal priest or not, the bloke knew his way around the female form.

  “No, don’t pray to God, pray to Father Steve…” He leaned forward and latched his mouth onto my neck, sucking it, creating yet more sensations for my body to get off on.

  “Yes, yes…” I cried, my orgasm so close.

  He pulled out.

  “What?” I opened my eyes and glared at him.

  He shrugged. “Now you know how it feels when it stops at the best bit.”

  “Sex isn’t about tit for tat.”

  “Well, tits maybe.” He bent his head and took my left nipple into his mouth. He pulled, sucked, and bit.

  I squirmed and wanted to pull back, but I also wanted more.

  He lifted up and looked at me.

  “I’m going to fuck you now.”

  “Do you think you should remove this?” I touched his white clerical collar.

  “Nah, you like it.”

  “What?”

  “I can tell. Priest fantasy, it’s getting you off.” He grinned.

  Fuck, was it? Maybe.

  Except I wasn’t even sure if he was a priest anymore. What priest would go at it so rough and ready in front of Jesus and in God’s house?

  “Sit on me.” He held his cock upright. “Now.”

  “Condom.”

  “No condom.”

  “But…”

  He maneuvered me forward, aligned his cock, and dragged me down onto it.

  He filled me so fast, so thoroughly. Stretching my pussy sideways and lengthways.

  I cried out. A long, low, gurgling sound that came from deep in my chest and floated into the high rafters. Pain mixed with pleasure and spread around my body.

  A guttural groan of gratification dragged from his throat. “So good.”

  I panted and tried to adjust to the invasion.

  “Now move. Fuck me,” he said gruffly.

  My clit was buzzing for it and pressed up against his wiry pubic hair. I moved a fraction.

  “Much more than that.” He gripped my buttocks and urged me into a fast, wild rocking movement. “Please.”

  I clasped the material covering his shoulders, despite knowing it was holy cloth and shouldn’t be victim to my clutches of passion.

  But it was too late now.

  “Ah, yeah … that’s it. Fuck, your cunt is so tight.”

  “Cunt?”

  “Yeah, cunt.” He bit my lip and tugged.

  The pain intensified as his teeth sank in, then suddenly he let go.

  “In for a penny in for a pound,” he said. “Reckon I’ve sinned pretty big time right now, so what’s a few more?”

  “Have I sinned?” I asked breathlessly. My orgasm was growing again.

  “By fucking a priest?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’d say you’re going to hell, you dirty bitch.”

  “What?”

  Suddenly I was lying flat on the pew. My left leg draped over the wooden backrest and my right up at his shoulder.

  His cock hadn’t left my pussy.

  “Yeah, dirty bitch, come for me now. I want to see how my big, holy cock makes you come, makes you squirt.”

  He rammed even higher into me, pulled out, then plunged back in.

  I gripped his arms, his biceps were straining beneath the material of his cassock.

  “Oh, God…” I was going to come. He was right, his big holy cock was going to create a big holy climax. “Oh, God…”

  “He won’t help you. God won’t help you … just like he won’t help me.”

  “Are you … going to hell?”

  “Yes … for this and … many other things…” He shut his eyes and tipped his face to the ceiling. “If you’re going to come, do it now…”

  I did. I let the pressure release. His body was rubbing my clit violently with each thrust of his hips, and his cock rubbing my G-spot. It was a wild-fire orgasm, it heated my insides, burned over my nerves and red and black dots danced in my vision. My pussy thumped around his cock, spasms ravaging it.

  “Yeah, God, yeah…” He gave one last plunge, so deep I thought he’d come out of my throat, then released his load. “So fucking good, bitch.”

  What is it with the dirty talk?

  I ran my hand up to his face and cupped his sharp jawline.

  He stared down at me. “That was a good first time.”

  “That wasn’t … your first time.”

  “Sure it was.” He withdrew and dragged up his boxers and jeans. He then made a show of adjusting his black robe and straightening his clerical collar. He shoved a hand through his hair, but if anything it made it messier.

  I lay there, on the pew. One leg thrown over the back, the other now with my foot on the floor. My wet, cum-soaked pussy gaped up at him.

  “You staying like that,” he asked, looking at my cunt.

  “What do you suggest I do, Father?”

  A bang, from the back of the church, like before, caught my attention.

  “Is there someone there?” I asked.

  “I dunno, but if there is I’m sure he’d like a good go at you too, so why not stay like that.” He chuckled and sniffed his fingers. “I’m going to be smelling you all night.”

  “Don’t be filthy.”

  “What, like you?” He shrugged.

  I frowned and sat. I closed my legs and wished he hadn’t torn my knickers.

  “Who are you?” I asked, “Really.”

  “I’m the guy that just fulfilled your sick priest fantasy.”

  “I didn’t have a priest fantasy.” I reached for my bra, desperate to cover up. Something about his attention now was making shivers tremor up my spine.

  “Until you saw me.” He stepped from the pew and up to the altar. “Then I gave you that fantasy.”

  “Cocky bastard, aren’t you.”

  “Is that anyway to speak to a man of God?” He reached for his rucksack and again hugged it to his chest.

  “You’re not a man of God.”

  “So how come you’ve called me God for the last five minutes?” He laughed, the sound a great big boom that echoed around the church.

  I clutched my sweater to my chest. He looked crazy now, his hair wild, his cheeks flushed, and his eyes flashing with a devilish look that told me he’d gotten what he’d wanted.

  He turned to the effigy of Jesus. “So long, mate. Bet that’s the most fun you’ve seen going on here, ain’t it.” He made a cross on his chest then once more laughed.

  I swallowed. My heart was racing. I could still feel him inside me, on me, his stubble scraping my face. I couldn’t deny, it had been one heck of a screw.

  “Where are you going?” I asked.

  “I’m getting the hell out of here.” He strode down the aisle, his heavy boots making sharp banging sounds.

  “Is it safe?”

  “It is for me.”

  “Don’t go.” I didn’t want to be here alone.

  “I have to.”

  Quickly I stood. If he was unlocking the door, I was going to lock it up again pretty damn fast.

  He did just that. Strode to the door and slipped the bolts.

  Holding the large, round handle he turned to me. “Thanks for the fuck, Cheryl, it’s definitely one I’ll remember.” He winked.

  Sexy bastard.

  Before I could reply he’d slipped out into the darkness.

  Rushing forward, I shut the door, and slammed the bolts back into position. In the brief moment I’d seen the street, I was relieved to see it was quiet, it appeared deserted too.

  Maybe the worst was over and I’d be okay in here alone until daylight.

  I leaned back on the wood and shut my eyes. I had to get dressed, my chest was bare, and I was damp between my thighs.

  What the hell has just happened?

  Okay so my high libido had gotten me into a few scrapes over the years, I’d had a few unsavory names thrown my way too, and woken up next to a few guys I really should have passed on.

  But I’d just fucked a priest in a church.

  A new low, or was it a new high?

  Sure felt like a high.

  Except he wasn’t a priest. I’d bet my last pound on it.

  Father Steve was an impostor.

  It had been good though.

  Opening my eyes, I looked at Jesus. “Sorry. But it was seriously good.”

  As I’d spoken another thought came to me. “So where is the real priest? Whose cassock was Steve wearing?

  Again a dull thud came from the back of the church, to the left of the altar. Was it coming from the room there?

  I dashed forward, reached for my clothing and quickly made myself decent—apart from the fact I wore no knickers. I then tried the handle, it was stiff but it did release. A shove with my shoulder against the wooden door, and I stumbled into the room.

  “What the hell?”

  Tied up in the corner was an elderly gentleman. He was gagged with a strip of red material, his eyes were wide and his hands and legs tied with rope and harnessed together. He wore a white shirt that was grubby down the front and black smart trousers that were rucked up to his calves displaying green, rumpled socks. He wore no shoes.

  “Bloody hell.” I rushed up to him. “Are you okay?” I tugged at the gag.

  “Thank goodness.” He gasped then licked his lips. “I’ve been robbed.”

  “Robbed?”

  “Yes, that man, he took everything…” He nodded at a safe in the corner of the room.

  The door was wide open, showing off the lack of contents.

  “I hope the hounds of hell chase him down.” He shook his head, his voice was quivering, as though shock and upset were about to get the better of him.

  “Well they just might,” I said. “It’s wild out there with the riot going on.” I set about unpicking the knots at his wrists, being careful not to flash my nakedness. They quickly came free. Steve, if that was even his name, the man I’d just fucked, had done this.

  “Thank the Lord you came here, my dear. God must have sent you.” He leaned forward and undid his feet, grimacing as he did so.

  “Well, I’m not sure about that.” If this genuine priest had seen me spread-eagled on his pew having a humdinger of an orgasm five minutes ago that might not have been his opinion.

  “Oh my child, He most certainly did.” He looked at me, his pale blue, watery eyes studying mine. “God moves in mysterious ways.”