Chapter Three

Shocked beyond words, Khatri staggers back, the crucifix slipping in his sweaty grip. “You what?” his voice cracks, faith now teetering on a precipice. 

Matthew's sobs grow even louder, tears streaking those flushed cheeks, trailing over that plump lower lip–the same lip Khatri had fantasized about for months. his hips kept bucking, grinding in the air against nothing. The boy is a vision and Khatri’s cock pulses, a traitor begging to be freed. but he shakes his head, trying to fucking fight it.

“Please, Father…I can’t stop thinking about you—your hands, your mouth—every night, I touch myself while imagining it's you. And don’t think I don’t see you when you creep around our house every night too. You stand in that same spot but in my room, watching me while you think I’m asleep, jerking your cock over your cassock. Every night I hoped you’d peel back the covers I threw over myself and see for yourself that I’m awake and I need you just as badly as you need me. but you never do. So I had to do something. I told them it’s a demon so you’d come ... .please…”

Khatri continues falling back step after step, the confession slamming into him like a sledgehammer. He’s never been tested like this–not in the three decades he’s spent on earth, not through seminary, and especially not through a decade of exorcism. His knees buckle but before he can crash to the ground, he catches himself on the bedpost, staring at Matthew’s writhing form. The boy’s khaki shorts tent obscenely, a wet spot blooming at the crotch, and Khatri’s mouth waters, saliva pooling under his tongue. He may have come to this exorcism with the knowledge he won’t return the same mine but he can still walk away.

Shaking badly, Khatri gathers himself, forgetting his briefcase and everything it contains, intent on fleeing. But as he stumbles towards the stairs, Matthew’s voice hooks him back, raw and pleading. “Don’t leave me like this…father. At least untie me—I’ll scream if you don’t! I’ll tell them you’ve been here every night, stroking yourself over me. Please….”

Khatri’s breath was coming out in harsh pants at this time. He's fought this for months–prayed, fasted, scourged himself with guilt anytime he gave in to this sick temptation–but Matthrew’s begging and threats crack something primal and dark within him loose. He moves before his mind catches up, trembling from the hair on his head to the nails on his toe as he unties the rope binding his temptation. Matthew’s wrists slip free, and then his ankles. In the blink of an eye, the boy lunges, tearing at his own pants with broken whimpers. The khakis finally rip open and his hard cock springs out–slim, pink, and the prettiest thing Khatri had ever seen. Never in Khatri’s life had he ever looked at another man or a woman at that. He's spent his teenagehood growing stronger in his faith so how can the sight of precum glistening on a cock dry out every single thought in Khatri’s head?

Lust roars through him like a tidal wave as Matthew grabs his cock, sliding his fist up and down the length as he sobs. “Fuck, I need to cum–why can’t I cum? Father Khatri….Please, I need you. I can’t–” Khatri is transfixed by his cock, the way he strokes it has his own dick thickening behind his slacks. when Khatri doesn’t move from his spot, Matthew holds his gaze and lifts his other hand to his mouth before spitting on it. then he takes that hand behind him, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he shoves the fingers deep into himself.

Khatri’s last thread on his control doesn’t snap–it shatters. with a feral growl, he grabs Matthew’s hand, pins it above his head, and slams their mouth together in a kiss that’s all teeth and hunger. Matthew mewls into it, tasting of salt and desperation. Khatri bites down hard on that lower lip that’s haunted his dream for months now and his cock throbs so hard he lets out a groan. his groan draws a gasp from Matthew and he swallows the sound, sucking the lip into his mouth, growling as Matthew’s hips grind up, smearing precum across his cassock.

“You lied,” Khatri snarls against his lips, free hand shoving Matthew’s shirt up to claw at his chest. before Khatri went into seminary, he had sex once, but with a woman and he’d enjoyed the feeling of soft female tits in his hands so he knew without a doubt that he was straight before giving his life over to God. So right now, a part of him knew he probably should be freaked out about the obvious lack of boobs, but the feel of Matthew’s skin scorches him inside out and he realizes he doesn’t give a shit about it as long as its Matthew Mcpherson. The thought hits him so hard, he pinches the flat disc on Matthew’s chest, growling. “You filthy little sinner. tempting me…runing me…”

“Yes! Yes, I’m bad. Punish me, Father Khatri,” Matthew whines, arching into the touch and Khatri’s cock weeps behind his zipper. He yanks the boy’s shirt off, tossing it across the room, and then rakes his nails down Matthew’s oddly pale skin, leaving red welts. The boy’s cock twitches between them, leaking more and more stream until Khatri grips it in his large fist. a moan rips from Matthew that’s so erotic, it has to belong in sinful places like Sodom. His head falls into the crook of Khatri’s neck and he rasps. “Please, give me more.”

“Shut your fucking mouth.” Khatri snaps in a commanding voice he’s never used outside the pulpit and shoves Matthew flat on his back. then he straddles his thighs and rips his own cassock up, yanks down his zipper, finally exposing his thick, veiny cock, dripping milk onto Matthew’s skin. the boy’s pupils dilate so badly his blue eyes seem almost black and he licks his red lips–those lips made for sin—and Khatri nearly cums from the sight alone. “You want this? Huh?” he growls, fisting himself and rubbing the tip over Matthew’s lips. “Beg for it.”

“Fuck me, Father, For I had been a bad boy.” Matthew rips those words right out of Khatri’s darkest fantasies, swiping the flat of his tongue across the tip and the priest loses his mind. He shoved it in, groaning as those lips stretched around him, hot and wet, and perfect. Khatri’s hand latches onto the bedpost, holding on for dear life as Matthew pulls him deeper into his mouth, running his tongue down and around the shaft as it goes in. A low moan slips from Khatri and he unwraps one hand from the post before tightening it around Matthew’s neck.

The boy gags and tears spill from the corner of his eyes, but that only drives Khatri more insane. he squeezes his hand even tighter, fucking deep until he can feel himself moving in and out of the boy’s throat. “Shit shit shit!” he whispers, snapping his hips hard and fast. “Your lips look so fucking perfect stretched around my cock.” Matthew only moans and sucks harder as though he’s been starving for years.

When Matthew's nose begins to flare, Khatri finally pulls out, allowing the boy to gulp in much-needed oxygen before slamming his cock back in. his hand tangles in his hair, yanking hard and fucking his throat with ruthless thrust. “God…forgive me….fuck” he grunts, hips snapping and the vibration of Matthew’s moans shooting straight to his balls.

When a tingling begins at the base of his spine, Khatri pulls out again, spit and precum stringing Matthew’s lips to his tip. The sight makes some spurt of cum jet out of his dick and he quickly flips the boy onto his stomach. “I’ll give you what you want,” He growls and Matthew scrambles into position, spreading his knees and arching his back. fucking presenting himself like a goddamn offering.