Elena could barely sleep that night. Every time she closed her eyes, she felt Father Dominic’s tongue between her legs, his strong hands gripping her thighs, the way he groaned against her p***y like he was starving for her. Her body stayed wet and aching until morning.
She told herself she wouldn’t go back so soon. But the next evening, when the church announced they needed volunteers to help organize the rectory storeroom, she signed up immediately.
By nine o’clock, the church was empty and dark except for a few lights in the small rectory building attached to the side. Elena knocked softly. The door opened, and there he stood — Father Dominic in simple black trousers and a white shirt with the collar still on. His dark eyes widened when he saw her.
“Elena… you shouldn’t be here,” he
