Taking Penance...

Thorne's POV. 7. She said yes. That damn word. Soft, obedient, like a whisper meant only for God. But she wasn’t talking to Him. She said it to me. I stared at her. The way her eyes avoided mine, the way her fingers gripped the hem of her dress like she needed something to hold onto. Her lip trembled, barely. She was scared, but she still said yes. “Come On, get on your knees,” I said. She hesitated. I stepped forward. “You gave yourself to Him with confessions and prayers. Give yourself to me now.” She sank slowly. Her knees hit the cold stone floor with a quiet thud. I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out a rosary. Slipped it into her palm. “Hold it. Don’t let go.” She clutched it like it would save her. That was the lie I wanted her to believe. “You think this is about forgiveness?” I stood in front of her, one hand on her chin. “You think saying yes was enough?” Her lips parted. She tried to speak but nothing came out. Just her breath. Shaky. Fast. “This is penance, Mia.” I unzipped my pants. “And you’re going to take every part of it.” She flinched when I pushed her hair back. “Look at me. Don’t you dare look away.” Her eyes lifted, glassy and afraid. But she didn’t move back. Didn’t run. “You think He hears you now?” I said. “When your mouth is about to be full of my c**k?” She whimpered, just once. I gripped her jaw, firm. “Open your mouth..." She obeyed. I slid in my cock..slow and deep, watching her eyes flutter. She gagged, and I didn’t stop. I wasn’t gentle. Not tonight. I pulled out just enough to let her breathe. “You said yes,” I growled. “So take it. All of it. Take all of my c**k mia." Her fingers dug into the rosary. Her nails left marks in her skin. Her mouth worked around me, tears leaking from her eyes. But she didn’t stop. She didn’t fight. “You want forgiveness? It’s not in that chapel,” I said, my voice thick. “It’s in your mouth. In how much of me you can take.” I held the back of her head and thrust again, harder. This wasn’t just lust. This was punishment. For her lies. For pretending to be pure. For making me want her like this. I hated that I craved her. I hated that I couldn’t stop. “You think this is wrong?” I whispered harshly. “Then pray while you do it.” She moaned around me. Maybe it was a sob. I didn’t care. She chose this. I forced her to take me deeper, watching her throat struggle, her nose brushing my stomach. My control was slipping. “f**k, Mia…” I snarled. “You look like you were made for this.” Her eyes shut tight. I pulled out and grabbed her by the hair. She coughed, saliva and my precum dripping from her chin, but she didn’t speak. She didn’t try to leave. “You haven’t even started praying,” I muttered. “Get up. We're not done.” And she did. Shaky legs, eyes full of pain. Still clutching the rosary. She stood up, legs shaking. Her knees were red. Her lips wet dripping of my precum. Her throat raw. But she didn’t speak. Just stood there, breathing like she’d run through hell and made it back. Still clutching the rosary like it could save her. I didn’t let her speak. I grabbed her wrist and turned her around. Bent her over the wooden bench inside the confessional’s back room—where no one was supposed to go. Where no one was supposed to see. Her hands braced against the wood, knuckles white, trembling. "You held your virginity for me,” I said low behind her, dragging my hands up her sides. “You didn’t give it to him. Not your boyfriend. Not anyone. It was your penance.." She didn’t answer. “You saved it for me.” My voice broke into a growl. “A man who’s supposed to help you beg God for your sins.” I pressed against her. She whimpered. “Yes… Father,” she whispered. That word sent something dark through me. I reached down. Slid my hand between her thighs down into her p***y. She flinched, gasped. “You are so wet,” I said. “Still aching.” She nodded once, desperate. “yes... yess... Please… ” I leaned close to her ear. “You want more?” Her voice was so soft I barely heard it. “Yes, yes... Father. I want more. I want you as my penance.. f**k me harder.. teach me some dirty lessons..." That did it. I lost whatever grip I had on control. I shoved her dress up. No panties. Her innocence was so damn bare. Her body tense, trying to brace for what was coming. I dragged my palm up her spine, feeling the goosebumps rise. “Say it again.” She moaned—breathless, broken. “I want more. I want all of it. Take it. Take my virginity…” I let out a sharp breath. My belt clanked to the floor. I was already hard, already leaking. “You don’t even know what you’re asking for,” I muttered, pushing myself against her. Her breath caught. Her fingers gripped the edge of the bench like it was the only thing keeping her upright. “You said yes,” I said. “No going back now.” She nodded, gasping when I pushed my c**k into her p***y hole slowly. Her moan ripped through the silence—half pain, half something else. “Ah....!! f-f**k…!" “Still want this?” I asked through gritted teeth. She didn’t hesitate. “Yes, Father. All of it. Please…” I moved deeper. Her back arched. Her mouth opened but no sound came out for a second—just a trembling breath, then a broken moan that made my control shatter. “f**k,” I hissed. “So tight… so f*****g tight.” She whimpered, “It hurts… father Thorne. f**k!! f**k!! Ahhh!" “Good,” I growled. “It’s supposed to. Damn!" I started moving, slow at first. She choked on every thrust. Her body wasn’t ready, but she took it. She let me ruin her right there where she came to confess. “I’ll help you pray after,” I grunted. “Right now? You take your penance.” The sound of her moans… wet, high, desperate. The slap of my hips against her thighs. Her whispered pleas... “Oh yes… oh yes… Father… please… keep going… I'm loving every moment...! Please, F*CK me harder…!! Her innocence bled into my madness. I could feel it—her first time. Her body breaking open for me. For no one else. Only me. I didn’t let her breathe for long. I grabbed her by the waist and pulled her up—rough, fast. Her gasp hit the air, sharp and soft. She clung to my shoulders, startled. I spun her, pressing her back against the wooden frame. Her dress bunched around her hips. Her legs were open and wide, trembling. I forced her knees up, spreading her over me like she belonged there. “Hold on,” I said. She reached for the handles of the carved wood behind her, gripping them tight, knuckles pale. Her eyes searched mine, half-fear, half need. “I’m not done with you,” I whispered, voice scraping with want. “Not even close.” She nodded. Her chest rose fast. Her lips were swollen from sucking me off. Her thighs were quivering. So damn pure. So damn filthy now. I slowly ran my hand down between her legs... taking my time. She shuddered. Her entire body reacted as if the sensation caught her off guard. It felt so intense, so satisfying.. I slipped one finger inside her pussy.. She cried out ...half-moan, half-shock. Those filthy sobbed moans. “Shh…” I leaned closer. “Feel that?” Yes.... yes... father.. it feels so f*****g good... your fingers inside my cunt... " She nodded, eyes wide, mouth open. I moved slow at first, then harder. Dragging it in deep. Curling it just to make her jolt. She was soaked. Still tight. Still gasping. “Every part of you is mine now,” I muttered into her neck. “Not just your mouth. Not just your virginity. This too.” I pumped harder. Her back arched, the wood creaking behind her. She let out a desperate whimper. “Ohhh… yes, Father… PLEASE KEEP GOING! Stretch me out... please... I want to scream louder... dig those fingers deeper into me, please...! That word. f**k. “You want to c*m,” I growled, pushing deeper, curling harder. “But you’re not allowed. Not until I say.” She bit her lip. Her legs trembled, straining to stay open. “You saved this for me,” I said, dragging my finger back out, slowly. Watching her face twist in pain and pleasure. “You didn’t give it to your boyfriend. You let me be the one to ruin you.” She nodded, panting. “I did… I'm f*****g grateful, it's for you... !" I shoved my finger back in, harder this time. Her cry echoed off the wood. “Say it again.” “Thank Goodness it's you, Father…” she moaned. “Only you… !" She let out moans that broke into dirty, ragged sobs.... I didn’t kiss her. I devoured her mouth—teeth, tongue, heat. She cried into me, squeezing my shoulders, grinding against my hand like her body couldn’t take it anymore. This wasn’t holy. This was the goddamn fall from heaven. She was gasping now. Hands locked on the confessional handles, knuckles white, legs shaking, body begging. I didn’t slow down. I shoved my tongue into her soaked p***y, greedily tasting every drop juice spilling from her cunt. I added another finger, burying it deep inside her wet p***y hole, making it so so full, as I stretched wider...My thumb started to scissor around, pressing roughly against her c**t. She let out a strangled moan, arching off the wood like she couldn’t take it, couldn’t breathe. “F-Father....” her voice cracked. “Please… it’s too much… f**k! Ahhh!" “It’s not enough,” I growled. “You think one ‘yes’ makes you clean? After what your sins?” I moved faster, rougher. Every thrust of my fingers made her twitch, her walls clenching, her breath hitching. Her thighs fought to stay open, to obey. “Beg,” I hissed, my forehead pressed to hers. “Beg me to ruin you more.” Her eyes were full of tears, lips trembling. But she whispered, broken and willing, “Please… ruin me more… please, Father… do it..!" Fuck. She had no idea what she was asking for. I pulled my fingers out and shoved them into her mouth. “Taste your sins,” I said coldly. She sucked. Desperate. Obedient. Like she believed it would save her. And maybe that’s why I hated her in that moment. Because she made me feel like I couldn’t stop. Her legs dropped. I let her down gently ...no, not gently. Possessively. Her body was limp, face flushed, eyes dazed. I stepped back, chest rising with each breath, trying not to lose the last thread of control I had. That’s when it came. Knock ...knock. “Father Thorne?” It was Sister Annalisa. Her voice was faint but clear through the wooden divider. “It’s time for the confessions.” Mia stiffened. She looked around, confused...like she forgot where she was. Her gaze shifted to the small wooden bench meant for penitent souls. “Wait… this isn’t… the confession room?” “No,” I said, voice low and dangerous as I stepped closer. “This is where I do it.” I reached out, tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. She stared up at me, still holding the damn rosary. “Mia,” I whispered, brushing my thumb across her cheek. “Only I deserve to hear your sins, Not God."