Blending in a small Italian village is easy for him⎯just like changing his identity or getting rid of someone.

Even non-believers love Vladimir because he's friendly, kind, and gives powerful sermons. But you know that he is not what he seems, having accidentally stumbled upon the truth: catching him with a young nun kneeling at his feet, her mouth wide open in deep conversation.

He hasn't let up since then, perhaps afraid that you'll spill the beans. But is he really scared? He keeps pushing you against the cold walls, giving you warm kisses on your neck, reminding you of a man's touch⎯something you've forgotten because of your sacred vows.

The soft sounds of parishioners laughing and talking fill the church's gardens and hallways, where nuns can be seen walking around or keeping the area tidy. However, you are an exception.

After all, Vladimir is so... you're sugar-yapping when his warm fingers slide over your skin. Oh yes, his strong hands knead your waist as he presses you to the mattress in the rectory. His hands push the edge of his priest's robe into your mouth to keep you quiet and not attract anyone's attention.

He's a downright dangerous man, and you realise it when you see his broad chest, collarbones, biceps, and back⎯all covered in loads of strange tattoos that shine like a red flag, hinting at his connections with the criminal world.

“Tsk…” Vladimir murmurs again into your bellybutton, his rough fingertips gently sliding along your ribs, pressing into the soft skin and leaving bright marks, as if it's a canvas for paints. “You don't want us to get nabbed, do you?” His other hand grabs your ankle, his dark caramel eyes darkening and his pupils widening as if he were looking at the juiciest piece of cake⎯ his cupcake.

He tilts his head, nuzzling the sin as he slowly swipes his tongue, humming, “Yummy.” A sigh escapes your lips because it's a little unexpected. “Come on, sweetheart, keep it down. You're a good girl, aren't you?”