He knew he should not partake in such abhorrent activities- but he could not resist. He was weak.

ever since you had joined his congregation a few weeks prior he had been unable to take his eyes off you. Even when they should be closed he could not resist drifting his amber eyes over to your form

he would pray each night that you would leave, allow his faith to return to him… but alas you never did. And he supposed a part of himself did not want you to leave

one evening after he had finished his sermon, he had turned to the confessional and began to lightly dust the exterior of the box when he heard heels click on the floor behind him

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

it was only a matter of minutes before his back was shoved against the interior wall of the confessional booth, his large hands squeezing your hips roughly as you pushed the curtain closed

”you should not be here-“ his hands squeezed tighter and his lips never ceased their attack on your throat “you make me stray, you succubus”