Sweetest Sin: A Forbidden Priest Romance Read Free

comforted. He understood, and
yet he demanded more from me.
    I closed my eyes. “My
thoughts and actions have not been…”
    “Pure?”
    No one’s thoughts could
remain pure around Father Raphael. He was a man who’d convert an unbeliever with
the confidence of his smile. The sincerity of his words could bless even the
most pious. He feared nothing and no one, and even his confidence was shadowed
in humility.
    He was good. He
was holy.
    He was completely
forbidden to me.
    Why did I want him
so badly?
    “I’ve had impure
thoughts.” I stared at the floor, the scuffed wood from too many formal shoes
bowing before the window. I hadn’t knelt. I didn’t trust myself to fall to my
knees before a man like him. “And…sating those thoughts hasn’t eased the
desires.”
    “ Sating ?”
His words echoed in a hidden smile. “How have you attempted to sate these
thoughts?”
    He could imagine
it.
    And, at the time,
I hoped he had.
    Last night was the
worst of my sins. My needs had become the most insistent. My hands had
slipped within my panties before I cast them away. Every silken motion ripped
through me.
    I had never been
touched by a man, and I tried to deny my own immorality, but nothing eased that
haunting, demanding, desire .
    I’d thought of
him. I’d imagined him.
    I’d wished I had
stayed in the church a little longer, talked a little softer, stayed by his
side just for a moment longer.
    And it had been wrong .
    “I prayed last
night, Father. Alone and in my bed. The only name on my lips was yours.”
    The silence
crackled, a tumult of quiet and judgment. I counted the seconds, my breaths,
the soul-destroying memories of the pleasure I gave myself in dark shame.
    Father Raphael
breathed deep, a ragged and masculine breath that might have rattled the
sanctuary’s stained glass windows if it hadn’t vibrated through me first.
    “Do you understand
temptation, Honor?” he asked.
    Now I did. More
than most people.
    He continued, his
voice low. “It is a powerful force—more powerful than greed, envy, hatred.”
    “And I failed,
Father.”
    “No, this is my
failure. I haven’t prepared you. I am your priest. I am the man who should
protect you from this lust.”
    The word tumbled,
shattered, and crashed within the small confines of the confessional.
    Lust .
    That’s what it
was.
    Dark and terrible,
forceful and wild.
    We lusted ,
and I feared our only escape was surrender to that conquering force. Arms
entwined. Legs spread. I imagined myself naked, exposed, and waiting with stolen
words and false modesty as Father Raphael protected me from the sins of
lust.  
    It hurt. Sin hurt .
And that made sense, but I never knew it’d be a physical pain. It was real.
Clenching. It twisted deep in my core, pulsing in a quiet rage that tore through
me in a quick sweat and parted lips. Everything tingled and warmed, including
my chest and the tightening buds hidden beneath my prim and proper blouse.
    I wore the only
shirt I owned that was able to be ripped open. I wished I hadn’t thought of it
while dressing this morning. I wished it was simply the only blouse I had which
matched my black skirt. But I’d planned it, down to the exact detail. This
skirt was the easiest to accidentally slip up my leg where it would reveal too
much.
    What was wrong with
me? I shouldn’t have imagined him tickling my thighs, kissing my skin, or
savoring the heat pounding the secret I hid with crossed legs. The thoughts
overwhelmed me.
    I sighed,
trembling and hot.
    This was all
wrong. No matter how many times I practiced the confession in my mind, nothing
compared to sitting so close to him, separated by only a thin cherry wood wall
and a mesh screen sculpted with tiny Celtic crosses.
    He was there. I
could feel him. I could sense him.
    And I wished we
had touched.
    The shame overwhelmed
me, but I wasn’t a woman who hid from rightful punishment. I accepted my
responsibilities and actions. Still, no penance could be worse than