𝘒ö𝘯𝘪𝘨 / 𝘎𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

taste of heaven pt 2 final {Ghost}

{mature}
{18+}

Simon ran his fingers slowly along your thigh, his calloused hands massaging your skin. He pulled at the fabric of your dress, revealing your bare leg to the chill of the church.

"Come on now, love. Why not save this damned soul? That's your job, ain't it?"

"..you bastard." You swore at him.

How unfitting for a priestess to be swearing, no? The cold air of the church you served now a mocking feel on your exposed skin.

"Shouldn't a priestess be calm and collected?"

He whispered, his hand teasing the edges of your undergarments.

"Not crying and shaking like you are right now, running her dirty, little mouth."

"Then get your—hands off me, and let's talk like—like civilized people."

You shouldn't be feeling this way.
This giddy feeling in your stomach.

"Civilized, eh? So pious and virtuous, aren't you y/n?"

He paused as he teasingly ran a finger along your clothed clit. His eyes watched your reaction, waiting for you to say something in protest.

Yet you didn't. You were enjoying it.
Enjoying the very sensation of his fingers tainting your virtuous self.

"Fucking hell, love. You like this? Should I go a little further then? Yes, no? Use your words, little priestess."

"No—no I don't like this..." you lied.

Your stomach filled with that giddy feeling you had never felt before. The gods must surely hate you, y/n.

For your sinful thoughts.
Your sinful desires.

"Such an untruthful, dirty little mouth you have. Are you telling me you don't like this?"

His head bent down near yours, his breath was hot on your face. You could smell the subtle hint of blood, a sharp contrast to your pure senses and the smell of the church.

"Has it been that long since a man touched you? Showed you how a woman ought to be treated?" His fingers rubbed your clit even more.

A sharp gasp left your lips, a reaction you couldn't stop even if you tried.
You wanted his touch. Craved it.

"How many nights have you thought of this,   y/n? Fucking hell. A priestess, crying out for the touch of a sinner."

He placed his mouth just above your collar bone, his lips grazing your skin. Your eyes shut tight, your breath was shaky.

You felt his cold touch as he brushed against the lacey fabric, running alongside your soaked cunt.

"...please..," you hoarsely whimpered out.

A quiet, desperate plea.
Have you finally succumbed, y/n?
A holy woman like yourself to a sinner like him?

He was silent for a moment as his lips pulled away from your skin. An almost cruel gesture.

"Please what? Use your fucking words, y/n."

"Simon....I—I, please..."

"Fuck, y/n. You want me to fuck you with my fingers? That it? Make you come all over the floors of the very church you devoted your life to? Hm?" He whispered, his lips teasing your skin.

You wanted to say something, but you couldn't. You were too high on the feeling of his fingers agonizingly teasing your womanhood.

"You're practically riding my fingers, y/n. Such a slutty priestess you are." He grinned.