“Oh Allera, you’re a gem,” she gushed. “Please come, I’ll make sure Christabel is ready for you.”
“I’ll be there.” I promised with what I hoped was sincerity, but I couldn’t hold back any longer. I was about to unwrap a pastor like he was an after-dinner dessert and damn did I need that sweetness.
Chapter 6
WasIsalivatingalittle?
Yes.
But who could blame me? Pastor Young was sitting behind his desk with a pair of glasses perched on the end of his nose. His liquid gaze rose to me, and he set his pen aside slowly. The air was already charged with lust, which I greedily sucked up as I sauntered over to perch on the edge of his desk. I placed the cup of tea I’d made in front of him.
“Did you lock the door?” he murmured, eyes snagging on the swell of my breasts.
“I didn’t want to presume. Although I must tell you, pastor, I am having such terrible urges today. Do you think you could help me?” I tilted my head innocently.
Pastor Young’s hand danced across the table and ran along the edge of my boots. My skin sang with the slight touch and the promise of more. I ached for it.
“I live to serve.” His voice was hoarse.
We hovered on a thin line, teetering toward hedonism. The tension was deliciously thick, and I sighed, leaning over to tap his glasses.
“These need to stay on,” I ordered, and his whole body trembled with anticipation.
“Whatever you need,” he breathed, his pupils dilated. I didn’t even need to coax him with any lust. It was clear he was remembering our previous interlude and was ready for more. I hopped off the table, catching the way his face fell as I walked to the door.
“This isn’t like my previous church, that looked more traditional with an altar and stained-glass windows. This place is so modern, it almost feels like it’s missing the spiritual element. Maybe you could show me around?” Pastor Young’s hot breath coasted over the back of my neck, his chest suctioning to my back with a desperate heat.
“The Prophet denigrates idolatry. His revelations from the Lord commanded we move into modern ways.”
“That’s a shame,” I pouted. I had hoped to debauch him on the altar.
“But there is a private altar. One that only I can access.” He wrapped an arm around me and brandished an ornate key like a winning ticket. I turned and smiled, titling my head for his kiss. He didn’t wait this time, didn’t offer any empty protestations. The pastor was desperate, his mouth clashing and taking hungrily. Iron flooded my mouth with our frenzied kissing splitting my lip slightly.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking of your taste,” he admitted, breathing raggedly when he pulled away.
“Do you even need an assistant, or was this all an elaborate ruse to have an excuse to spend time with me?” I smiled indulgently, turning in his arms, and running my fingers down his cheeks. The blossoming lust made me feel dizzy. Wonderfully so.
“I’ve dreamed of you endlessly over the last few nights. Every time I pray you appear in my mind’s eye,” he confessed.
“Come, I want to see your kingdom.” I was careful not to stand too close to him, especially knowing there were still busy body ladies who were likely lurking around, gathering intel for Sandy.
“Can I show you somewhere special?” August asked, ducking his head shyly. Now that I’d had him begging for my touch, the cool exterior he boasted had crumbled. Despite his title, he was like any other man. He wanted to fuck me. He’d get his wish. Pastor Young led me down a narrow corridor with two dim lights flickering above us.
“I put together this using the prophet’s specifications. I often come here when I need to ponder large questions.”
“I do like seeing you on your knees,” I whispered in his ear, and he flushed a pretty pink as he pushed the door open. I gasped, tripping over my foot to stumble into the room. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, tempted to rub my eyes as if it might wipe away the shocking visage in front of me. Pastor Young turned to me, his hands on his hips and a proud look on his face.
“What the fuck is this?” I breathed, too shocked to stop myself from swearing. Pastor flinched and gave me a disapproving frown.
“Allera, this is a holy place, not a somewhere to use foul language.”
I didn’t reply, moving closer to the steps that led to a raised podium. Beyond that was a wall lined with a low shelf. Scrawled symbols painted in black ran the length of the wall above the shelf. I recognized the writing. I was a demon spawn after all. Succubi were children of darkness and the writing on the wall? High Daemon. The language used in rituals for powering demons.
Pastor Young spent a lot of time in here. There were candles stacked upon each other and dripping with wax. This was an offering to my master. Not a pious offering to Jesus and his father. No, this smacked of brimstone, and I couldn’t get my head around it.
Was this secretly a satanic cult? I was distracted by Pastor Young’s next confession.
“I was named for Saint Augustine you know, he was renowned for overcoming the temptation of flesh, for turning towards the church instead.”