All Chapters of The Reverend And His Plaything : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Thorne. I stood there, frozen just inside the door, staring at her as her words hung in the air like smoke from a dying candle.“This isn’t about sex anymore,” she said, voice cracking at the edges, eyes glassy but fierce. “I swear I know it deep down. It’s not sex. It’s more than that.”The room felt too small suddenly. The crucifix on the wall seemed to watch me with hollow eyes. I wanted to laugh—bitter, hollow—because of course she thought that. Of course she’d fallen into the trap I’d been fighting tooth and nail to keep her out of.She stepped closer, bare feet silent on the worn rug, and reached for me. Her fingers brushed my chest, light at first, then pressing flat over my heart like she could pull the truth out through my shirt. I should have stopped her. Should have caught her wrists and held them away. But I didn’t. I let her touch me. Let her palm slide up to my collar, tracing the white tab like it was something sacred instead of the lie it had become.“Mia,” I said

Thorne.I twisted her hair into a makeshift bun, my fingers coiling the dark strands tight in my palm, pulling just enough to tilt her head back for a better angle. “Fuck… Mia… keep going… wrap those lips around it,” I groaned, my voice rough and low, my hips wiggling forward in shallow, insistent thrusts. Her mouth was a furnace—hot, slick, clenching around me as I rocked deeper, feeling the soft give of her throat yield to every push. The way she took it, eyes watering but locked on mine, sent fire racing through my veins. No one else had ever made me this feral, this desperate to claim every inch of her warmth.She didn’t pull back. Instead, she leaned into it, her tongue flattening against the underside of my shaft as I pumped, hitting the back of her mouth with a wet, obscene slap. Saliva spilled from the corners of her lips, dripping down her chin, coating me in that messy, filthy gloss that only made me harder. God, her mouth had always been my undoing—the perfect vice, t

Mia.I gasped as Thorne’s mouth latched onto my nipple again, his tongue swirling in hot, lazy circles before he bit down just enough to make me arch off the bed. He switched to the other side seamlessly, his lips sealing around the peak, sucking with that rhythmic pull that sent jolts straight to my core. His hands kneaded the soft flesh, thumbs flicking the sensitive buds when his mouth wasn’t there, keeping me on that razor’s edge of pleasure and need.“God, your tits are incredible,” he murmured against my skin, voice muffled as he nuzzled between them, his breath scorching. “So full… so responsive. I could do this all night.”“Don’t stop,” I whispered, my fingers tangling deeper in his hair, pulling him closer. “Make me feel it… all of you.”He chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating through me as he grazed his teeth over one hardened tip. “Oh, I will. But first…” His hips shifted, and before I could brace myself, he slid into me—smooth, unyielding, his thick cock parting my fol

Mia.I thought he’d stride in wearing jeans and one of those fitted shirts that hugged his frame just right, the kind that made his shoulders look like they could carry the weight of the world—or pin me down without effort. His dark hair tousled, a bit rebellious, screaming “professor” more than “priest.” But no. As he walked into class, he was draped in that white cassock, pristine and flowing, the fabric whispering against the floor like a holy secret. It made him look every inch the devout man of God—untouchable, elevated—yet so devastatingly handsome that my mind spiraled straight to sin. I imagined rising from my seat, blocking the entrance, dropping to my knees right there in front of everyone, hiking up that cassock, yanking down whatever lay beneath, and taking his cock into my mouth like the devoted girl I was. Sucking him slow at first, then deep, feeling him harden on my tongue while the whole room watched, shocked silent. His hands in my hair, guiding me, praising me

Thorne. “You aren’t sharing the same surname so…” she added, her voice trailing into a soft moan as I cupped her breast fully, rolling the nipple between my fingers, watching it harden even more under my touch.“No. We are not.” I said, voice gravel as I nipped her earlobe, tasting the salt on her skin, my other hand sliding down to grip her ass, pulling her harder against me so she could feel every inch she was tormenting.“Then tell me…” she urged, her breath hitching, her hand slipping inside my zipper now, fingers wrapping around me skin to skin, stroking with that slick glide that had my knees weakening. “But fuck me with your fingers while you explain,” she added immediately, her eyes locking on mine with that defiant spark.I didn’t hesitate—my hand dove under her skirt, fingers pushing aside the damp lace of her panties, finding her entrance slick and ready. She gasped as I teased her folds, circling her clit before plunging two fingers in deep, curling them to hit that s