Maren’s POV

His cock 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 cock 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...