Welcome to another Masturbation Monday, the best way to start the week! It's a great prompt and got me in the mood for sharing an excerpt from a story I have in a new dark erotic romance anthology - DARK CAPTIVE . This piece shows some of the tension that's building in the church between the priest and our heroine.
A London riot, a lost girl, and a priest with a secret. Will the Devil’s whispered suggestions tempt them to indulge in the sins of the flesh?
Pic credit Michael Stokes
Damn the instinct to kiss him was almost overwhelming. Sure he was a stranger, but he was a good man, a man of morals and beliefs.
Which was exactly why I couldn’t kiss him.
But what if I died tonight? What if this was it? Surely I should have one last moment of passion. I loved sex, and it was one of my favorite things to do.
“What do you want to ask me?” he asked, his breath washing over my mouth.
“I don’t know.”
“I know you do.” He paused. “One thing. Ask me one thing. I’ll be truthful.”
One thing. There were so many. He was the most unusual priest I’d ever met. Not that I’d met many. Not only was he handsome in a rugged kind of way, he also oozed sex appeal. It seemed to roll off him in waves. Had we been in a club I’d have gone for him, and had a one-night stand just to see how a guy like him did it.
“You don’t have anything you want to ask me?”
“Yes. I do.”
“Go on then…”
What was really in the bag? Why was he here at night alone? Where did he live exactly? Did he look at all women the way he was looking at me—as if he were undressing them with his eyes?
“Have you ever had sex?” I blurted. It was the answer I really wanted after all.
“No.” He shook his head. “Bonafide virgin.”
“Oh.” Damn it. If I’d been turned on before, now I was in white-hot ready-to-go mode. The things I could teach him given the chance. What I could do with his naive, inexperienced, gorgeous body. The delights of the flesh I could introduce him to.
“But I bet you’ve had lots of propositions,” I said, wondering if I should sit on my hands to stop myself reaching out for him.
“Yes. But I’ve always turned them down.” His voice was low now, husky too. “Do you want to know why?”
“Yes,” I said quietly.
He glanced at Jesus. “I made my promises to the Lord.”
“Of course. Yes.”
He shook his head and glanced at his lap.
“Lately what? Tell me.” Had he been questioning his faith? Was that it? Was that why he was looking at me as though he had only one thing on his mind—and it wasn’t the riot outside.
“Lately my faith has been tested. The evil in the world, including here. It’s hard to stay focused.”
“I’m sure.” It was my turn to take his hand. I gave it a squeeze and looked at the way the hairs fanned over the back and disappeared into the black sleeve. I ran my fingers over the letters on his knuckles. Love was clearly a moto he lived by. “And what’s the other reason?”
“I told you I’d had propositions.”
“And always turned them down.”
“Because you’d made promises and you love God.” I paused. “Very noble. Very commendable.”
“Yes.” He tipped his head. “But the thing is, Cheryl.”
“No one like you, no one as sexy as you, has ever propositioned me.”
Join in the Dark Captive Facebook Party on 26th May, I'll be there between 1.30-2pm EDT