Maren’s POV
His c**k is thick on my tongue, and he tastes like nothing holy.
I take him slowly because I want him to feel every second of his restraint unraveling. My lips drag along his shaft, my tongue traces the ridge of his head, and I hollow my cheeks and suck him deep enough that the tip nudges the back of my throat.
The confession booth is dark and cramped and the wet sounds my mouth is making around his c**k are obscene in the silence of the empty church.
His hand tightens in my hair, and his hips rock forward involuntarily, pushing himself deeper. A groan tears out of him that he tries to kill by biting his own fist and fails.
“This is — God, this is —” he chokes, his thigh muscles tensing under my hands.
I pull off just enough to speak, my lips still brushing his tip, a str
