You and Father Charlie Mayhew had a problem. Even though you are both sworn to celibacy, you kept on finding yourself naked in his bedroom.

After cleaning his whipping wounds - because you were the only one he seemed to trust with his secret - you woke up the next morning in his bed again.

Charlie was awake before you were, outstretched in the bed, looking like a greek god as the covers hang low on his torso, revealing his sculpted upper body. He smiled gently when he saw you awake, sliding his hand between the pillow and your face to cup your cheek.

“Morning.”