Summary:

“You like these touched, don’t you?” His hand slid up, palm covering Shane’s left nipple, thumb circling, teasing. Shane’s eyes crossed, mouth opening on a ragged keen, body arching forward to offer more. “Do you play with them at home, hm?” Ilya taunted, pinching the tight bud. “Do you twist them under your sheets while you think of me? Does Mommy ever walk in on her sweet boy tugging his little tits and moaning?” A sob-half-laugh burst from Shane, mortifying and incandescent. “N-no, Father, oh God, n-no, she—ahhh—she’d—” His hole clenched around Ilya’s cock at the mention, involuntary, lust flaring hotter. The priest caught it, chuckled. “She’d be horrified to see her precious son like this,” Ilya murmured, nails scratching lightly over the right nipple now, making Shane shudder. “Socks on, slut naked, riding his priest’s cock right in the house of God.” In the house of God, Ilya found his most devout worshipper not in the pews, but bent over the altar, begging for absolution with every thrust.