Emily and the Priest (4 page)

“It’s beautiful,” she murmured.

“My great-great-great grandfather held services in this church.” Father Mark pocketed the key, gently closing the door behind them. “When it was built, the whole community hauled field stones from their farms, and stone masons worked all summer to finish it.”

“Your great-great-great grandfather was a priest?”

“He was a
preacher
. And he wasn’t Catholic—he was Baptist.”
He dipped his fingers in the holy water in the vestibule and made the sign of the cross.

Emily followed his example.
“Baptist preachers can marry, can’t they?”

“Yes.”

“Why can’t Catholic priests?”

He hesitated as they entered the chapel, the stained glass windows throwing rainbows across his uplifted face and Emily thought she’d never seen anything more beautiful in her life.

“It’s Canon law,” he said finally. “Since the twelfth century, all priests have been celibate. Some say Pope Calixtus the second created the law because he was afraid of the heirs of priests looking to inherit church money or property.”

Emily snorted and rolled her eyes. “It’s always about the money.”

He quoted, “‘An unmarried man is anxious about the things of the Lord, how he may please the Lord. But a married man is anxious about the things of the world, how he may please his wife, and he is divided…’ That’s from Corinthians.”

“Is that true?” she asked.

“I don’t know.”

He looked so different in street clothes
, so much more accessible to her. She wanted to reach out and touch him, to be bold, to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him, but she didn’t dare.

“Do you think it w
as
because
Jesus
was
celibate?
”

He shook his head and sighed. “Do you want to know something scandalous?”

“What?” She felt his hand slip into hers and thrilled at his touch, letting him lead her toward the front of the church as he spoke. “I don’t believe Jesus was celibate. I believe he loved Mary Magdalene.
I think he loved her deeply, and
I think he loved her
openly.
As much as I love you.
”

She was too stunned to speak, stopp
ing and blinking up at him,
heart soaring, belly burning. Her mouth was dry, her hands, even the one holding his, trembling.

“And he wasn’t bound by any of man’s laws
.” His voice was soft, his eyes too, as he gazed down into hers.
“
He loved her without restraint.”

His kiss burned her lips, fire scorching its way down her throat, into her belly, through her limbs as she wrapped her arms
around his neck. She was lost, too buoyed by his words to stop, to let herself think about anything but how he felt pressed against her, his hands moving to her lower back to press her closer.

“Oh Emily,” he whispered, finally breaking the kiss, his face buried in her hair. She whimpered in his arms. “Oh sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I can’t help it. I want you so much.”

“I want you too,” she confessed, letting her
bare thigh
slide between his.
She wasn’t wearing tights under her uniform skirt—just knees socks.

“We can’t,” he croaked, holding her out at arm’s length.

“Oh Father, please…”
She couldn’t stop, not now, knowing he wanted her, just as much as she did him. He’d professed not just lust, which was a sin, but love for her, and she believed him. It had been there a long time between them, unspoken, forbidden. But it was here now, burst forth, and nothing could stop it.

Emily wrapped herself around him, arms and legs and everything, her hungry mouth searching for his. He groaned in protest, trying to peel her off, but she stuck fast, knocking them both off balance, and he stumbled back against one of the pews.

“Oh no…” he managed, sitting with Emily in his arms, straddling him now,
her
plaid
skirt riding up,
the crotch of her
panties rubbing
against his
zipper
as they rocked together. “Oh God, please, I’m begging you. Don’t do this. Don’t…
”

“But you want to. I can tell,” she whispered, feathering hot kisses over his neck, where no collar kept them at bay.
His erection was
a
swollen
heat between them.

“Just because we want to… doesn’t mean we should,” he gasped, grabbing onto her hips to try and still her.

“So you do want to.”
Emily smiled.
“You
really
think I’m pretty?”

“Oh Emily, yes.
” He lowered his forehead to her breasts, breathing deep and giving a tortured sigh.
“
Yes,
yes, you’re beautiful. Exquisite.
”

She couldn’t believe her own daring,
knowing full well where they were,
but
her
uniform blouse
came undone
easily.

“Do you like my breasts?”
she asked, cupping them in her bra
like an offering. The light in the chapel was hazy and a slat of sunlight fell across her chest, blinding them both.

“Oh God.” He stared, dazed, on perfect eye-level. “
Yes, sweetheart. Yes.”

“My nipples get hard when you play with them. Like this.”
She rubbed her thumbs over them through her bra, shivering at the sensation. He moaned, shaking his head in denial, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off what she was doing.

“They’re pink,” she confessed. “
But they get redder and redder the more you play with them. Want to see?”

He gasped as she reached around to unfasten her bra.
“No… oh no…”

“Are you sure?”
She unhooked it easily, sliding the straps down her shoulders. Her breasts were heavy and rounded, the skin around her nipples puckered, making them stand at attention.

“Oh my God, they’re beautiful,” he
breathed, and she felt his grip
tighten on her hips,
as if they had wandering minds of their own and he was fighting the force of it.

“Do you want to touch them?”
She arched, pressing
closer, her left nipple just inches from his lips.

“Yes.”
He groaned, shaking his head, turning it aside as if he could deny her.
“No, no…”

But it was no use.
His palms slid up over her ribcage
to cup one in each hand.

“Oh yes… squeeze them together like that… ohhhhh…”
Emily
moaned, arching her back.

“This is so wrong…”
He whispered his words against the soft press of her breasts, showering kisses over her cleavage.

“Suck them, Father,” she begged.
“
Suck my nipples.”

He buried his face in her breasts like a drowning man diving into a pool of fresh water, drinking her in with every gasping breath as Emily wiggled in his lap. His tongue bathed each nipple in turn, making her hips buck up against his in response.

“Yes! Oh yes! Oh that makes me so hot!”
she gasped, reaching for and finding one of his hands.
“Feel it. I’m on fire.”

He groaned, shaking his head between her ample cleavage, but
she moved
his
hand to cup
her mound under her skirt, feeling how damp her white cotton panties had grown.

“You’re so hard, Father Mark,” s
he whispered, rocking
herself
against his crotch. “Have you ever…?”

“No…” he croaked.

“Can you imagine what it feels like?”
She
pull
ed her panties aside, her
brown-fur-covered
mound
pulsing with heat. “Put your finger in.”

He groaned.
“No, Emily, I can’t…”

“Just your finger,” she pleaded. “
That can’t be too bad of a sin, can it?”

Curling
her hips forward,
she felt
his finger
slip
inside her sheath. He moaned and his cock jump
ed
against her in response.

“See? So soft and wet and slick…”
she murmured, rolling her hips.
“What must it feel like to slide inside
, do you think
?”

“Please. I’m begging you.
” He was fighting hard to catch his breath.
“
I’m a weak man, Emily. You make me so weak.”

“Me?
” Smiling, she traced the outline of his lips with her index finger.
“
I do that?”

“
Yes, sweetheart. Yes, you do that.
”

Oh his fingers were moving, slowly in and out of her wetness, exploring. She closed her eyes, his thumb rubbing occasionally over that sweet spot she had learned as a child to rub up against anything and everything, until that very first time, on the top of a wooden fence post of all things, she had experienced her first climax, the thrust and shudder of which nearly toppled her
eight feet to the ground.

She’d done it a lot more after that, finding new and better ways to stimulate that spot. Her favorite was a teddy bear she’d had since she was six. He was old and faded, balding in several spots, but he had a hard, wide plastic nose that was just perfect to rub against. Her mother thought she was being sentimental in keeping him, but Emily’s motivati
on was far more calculated
than that.

“Father Mark, please,” she whispered against his ear, daring to reach between them, oh god, the heat and length of his cock against her hand! It jumped like a snake under his zipper. “Make love to me. Right here, right now. I want you. Please. I love you so much.”

He didn’t respond, but his hand didn’t stop moving, working furiously between her legs, faster and faster, taking the sensation even higher. She moaned a
nd cried out, her thighs quiver
ing as she straddled him, her nimble
fingers stroking his length through
the denim of his jeans. They kissed, softly at first, then growing deeper, tongues twining, soft moans echoing off the pews, rising up to the steepled ceiling above.

“Father Mark!” Emily gasped, squirming, riding faster,
oh she never wanted it to end!
Her cheeks were flushed with heat, the sloppy, wet plunge of his fingers making glorious music between her legs. “Oh! Ohhhh! I’m… ohhhhh!”

“Yes, sweetheart,” he murmured, his other hand moving to cup her neck, bringing her head down to his shoulder as she shook with her climax in his lap. “Oh sweet, sweet Emily, that’s it. Let it all go. Beautiful. So beautiful.”

She whimpered, her orgasmic contractions pulling deeply at his probing fingers, sucking at them with every delicious spasm. Father Mark slid his hand from between her thighs and she cried out at the loss of him, wanting more, but he pulled her sideways on his lap, cradling her like a baby in his arms, raining kisses over her cheeks and forehead
as they rocked.

“God help me,” he whispered into her hair. “I can’t help myself. What am I going to do with you?

“Everything,” she murmured, tilting her head back to meet his smoky, green gaze.
His eyes were dark
with lust. “Anything.”

He groaned again. “You are far too much temptation for me.”

“Is that a yes?” she asked eagerly, wiggling in his lap. He was still fully erect, throbbing.

“Emily…”
He gave a deep sigh, closing his eyes, and when he opened them, her heart thrilled at his response. “Can you sneak out of your dorm
late
tonight?”

“Yes!” She had no idea how she would do it, but she knew she would meet him anywhere.

“Here at the chapel?” He kissed her mouth, soft. “Midnight?”

“Yes, yes.” She nodded, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Do we have to wait?”

“The carnival…” H
e reminded her of reality, sliding her slowly, reluctantly from his lap, putting her on the pew beside him. “Too many people around.”

She whimpered in pro
test, but she let him clothe her, bra and
blouse, giving her a little kiss at the fastening of each button, and then he
pulled
her to standing.

“I don’t want to go,” she confessed, feeling him squeeze her hand.
They
had both just managed to catch their breath.
“I can’t wait until tonight.”

He nodded, leading her to the front of the chapel. Up on the podium there were two prominent statues, one of Mary holding a baby Jesus,
the other of Jesus on the cross. There were a few other minor statues as well, and one
on the left
that caught Emily’s eye particularly.