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chososdiscordkitten · 6 months

Text

Kneel.

Synopsis: pt 2 of this fic ^-^

Pairing: Priest!Nanami x Fem!Reader Content: pwp, not as much church stuff as the last one, lots of flirting, breaking church vows, nanami trying to justify his actions as permissible, lots of pleading to his god, hand stuff, rough (?) sex, cream pie, multiple orgasms

Taglist: @eliuriastwo @ingojo

MDNI

It plagued him. The severe tension ran thick every single Sunday after mass. Where you would sit in his office chair- this look of smugness on your expression with the corner of your lip curled as though you were aware of the torment you were inflicting onto him.

Insinuating conversations of the carnal sins you would confess to—barely even sins— just thoughts that plagued your mind unwillingly.

Middle of the third time he saw you- the way your eyes dared to sparkle as you confessed the so called disgusting thoughts to him. His mind started putting the pieces together.

“Cold showers aren’t working anymore, Father. I had to. I had to rid myself of the hellfire that burned in me.” Your lips bordered on smiling as you watched the Father lower his gaze.

He didn’t know when, but his index and thumb had started toying with the little fly of his zipper, flipping it up and down—something to keep his hands busy as you spoke.

“I know that must be a sin, isnt it father?” you placed your hands between your knees, leaning over in the slightest and exposing even more of the crevice of your chest to him. His eyes tried to avoid the tempting ploy.

Little wired glasses on the bridge of Nanami’s nose as his eyes betrayed him- Unwillingly, they flashed down to your breasts, catching himself and looking back up to your face.

You raised your eyebrows in the slightest, as though you had caught on to his urge to look.

Nanami cleared his throat, pulling off the little glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. “The Bible- says it is, yes. Against the sixth commandment-” Looking back to your expression that seemed even more unbothered than before.

“If it is a sin,” you whispered, pinching your eyebrows in question of the Father’s faith. “Then why does it help?”

Nanami cleared his throat for what seemed like the hundredth time in those 30 minutes. “God made us sexual creatures,” he mumbled, trying to make it sound as business-like as he could.

You let out a little giggle- something that sounded like a siren trying to lure him into a trap. “Then god made me too sexual.”

Nanami inhaled- taking a little swipe at his lip with the tip of his dry tongue, parting his lips and averting his gaze. “How…” he inhaled sharply, “How did it feel?” barely legible, but the words deepened your smirk into something crueler.

A sigh of contentment left your lips, “As though I had chipped away at the temptation in the slightest.” you took a deep inhale- the skin of your chest pressing against the edge of your low cut top and daring to spill.

“It felt so good, Father. Freeing almost.” You continued, seeing Nanami’s blush spread through his cheeks down his neck in the slightest.

The thought of how freeing it would feel had he acted as callously as you did in your own desires made the Father realize he needed a freezing shower by the time he went home. He couldn’t give in as quickly as you did.

His hand halted the little flipping movement on his zipper. Gulping in the slightest and leaning back into his chair- “And your prayers… didn’t help?” trying to change the daring topic he had brought on.

“If I could be honest, father?” you sat up, pushing your shoulders back and lightly tilting your neck. Collarbones exposed to his nervous eyes with that same self-satisfied smile on your painted lips.

“Please, be honest.”

“I think my prayers have caused the opposite effect.”

Nanami nodded softly, thinking up something else to offer you besides the strained words he practically forced himself to say.

“Maybe a place in the community?” he asks, thinking that if you and he try to debrief these issues, you’ll get nowhere but a very frustrated priest who just wants to ‘help’.

He inhaled sharply, opening a little drawer in his desk and reaching for a flier, “Next Sunday, we’re having an Easter event for the children- you could find your place in our community.”

Placing the little flier onto the wood in front of you, your eyes scanning the colorful sheet with a half cocked smile. “Help serve the food, or just stay for a while. You’re welcome to it.”

And the following Sunday, you showed up bright and early, sitting through Easter Sunday mass. Noticing that, compared to other times, the Father wore a black short-sleeved dress shirt this time.

He excused it because he knew it would be hot that day and was getting ahead of an issue before it arose.

“Excuse me for being so indecent today,” he joked in front of the congregation before continuing his sermon.

But the little flexes of Nanami’s bicep strained against the tight sleeve of the shirt when he grasped the side of the podium. Or how, with every inhale, his plentiful chest would press against the buttons of the black shirt in strain.

It made that Sunday even more special. His arms were exposed, and how that shirt was at least a size too small for the man. Tempting. It made you wonder if it was you trying to lure in the tortured man or the other way around.

And when the service ended- a few stolen glances and raised brows at the stumbling of his words before all the church people gathered at the back of the building. A patch of grass and a few tables covered in colorful plastic tablecloths.

You did as he asked, served the children and the churchgoers food and waited for them to start their hunt for plastic eggs. And your effort didn’t go unnoticed; the Father would look over every now and then to see you happily serving the people of the church. Glad to see you enjoying yourself.

As though his attempt to help you was finally working- maybe all you needed was community and congregation to rid yourself of the shameless confessions you’ve made in his office.

But you- now standing on one end of the grass patch, derived from any sort of community the Father thought you were participating in.

Though it didn’t bother you, making friends with bitter church women was neither your task nor the conquest you sought.

But when your eyes caught the Father excusing himself from a few people of his parish- dashing into the church’s back entrance- you chose to follow.

Placing the little cup of lemonade onto the table before walking past the doors the Father had dashed past. Following him to the little cracked door of his office, hearing the light shuffling of papers.

You knocked twice- pushing the door open to see the Father jump at the sudden noise and the sight of you at his doorstep.

“You haven’t said a word to me, Father.” you thrummed, stepping into his office and closing the door behind you. Be it the general conquest or how delectable he looked in that tight short sleeve, you wanted to push even further this time.

He let out a little sigh with a smile, “You’ll have to excuse me- today has been very laboring.” his brows furrowed with stern eyes looking for the pages he swore he left at the very top of a stack of paper.

“Anything I could do to help?” taking on a sweet tone as you stepped closer to him.

Nanami let out a little laugh, almost in disbelief. “You’ve done more than enough to help today,” he said, his shoulders stiff from your presence standing at his side.

“I couldn’t ask for more,” he whispered, feeling your eyes pierce through him as he moved the stack of papers- the cotton around his bicep suffering from the flex of his arms.

Looking down at his hands. Spreading the papers, tantalizing thick fingers with a prominent vein standing proud at the top of his hand. Swallowing lightly at the image in your mind.

“I want to help, Father. Tell me how I can assist you.” reaching down to the top of his hand and placing yours atop his- halting its movements and causing Nanami to look over at you as though you were deranged.

Nanami parted his lips- derailing his train of thought entirely from the seemingly innocent touch. “What are you looking for?” you murmured, lightly caressing your thumb against his skin.

The first thing that popped into his mind was nowhere near priestly or godly. But he gathered his thoughts and mustered the words.

“The choir-” he inhaled a choked breath, “They need the lyrics for the service on Wednesday,” he whispered, looking at your low eyes with your hand still atop his.

“Your parish made you leave an event to look for song lyrics?” you teased- as though that was some lame excuse he made up on the spot.

Nanami let out a little laugh, pulling his hand from beneath yours and going back to looking for the pages again. “I know,” he mumbled, but you weren’t quite done urging you to be there to help.

You placed your hand over his again, looking at him with all the earnesty you could muster. “You are such a good priest, father.” picking up his hand from the desk and holding it in both of yours. “If you need help-” and there went the corner of your lip curling with sadistic intent.

“You can ask for it.” you assured, caressing his hand lightly as his lips parted with an inhale, “You can ask me for it.”

His heart was pounding in his chest—the words themselves weren’t filthy. Were they spoken by anyone else, it would’ve been heard as a simple offer.

But the honey soaked in the way you said it- the sparkle in your eye and the tenderness in which you held his hand. Nanami knew you were not offering an innocent way of assisting him.

Nanami felt it in his gut. It made his mind fuzzy- made him unable to think coherently.

It made him forget the white collar around his neck, the years he had spent as a priest and at the center of a church, and his vows—and for the first time in a very long time, his mind wasn’t judging the thoughts that raced inside of it.

You took a step closer to him—just one step and your chest was mere inches from his. His eyes flashed from your half-lidded ones down to your plush lips. You could feel the little tremble in his palm between your hands.

“I-” he started with an exhale, being able to breathe in the sickeningly sweet aroma of your skin. How it whirred in his mind should’ve been a sin in itself.

You tightened your grip on his hand, whispering a sweet, “Do you need help, Father?” watching his adam’s apple bob past the white collar around his neck and blinks become hazy.

The hand atop trailed up his forearm with a ghostly touch, feeling the light goosebumps rise beneath your fingertips.

It wasn’t till he saw your gaze turn dark- that’s when it clicked in the Father’s mind. That’s when the pieces came together.

You weren’t some lamb in desperate need of guidance; you weren’t innocent of the invading thoughts that the devil tried to tempt you with.

‘You were put before me as a test.’ was the one clear thought that broke through the mist in his mind as he looked at you.

And what he feared most—Nanami knew that if you had continued offering your assistance, he would have failed this test put before him by his cruel god.

Only the sound of a harsh knock startled him from the invading thoughts of what he could do to you in that room—or what you would have done to him had nobody interrupted.

A parish member cracked the door open- “Father, have you found the-” halting their entry as they looked at the sight before them. Furrowing their eyebrows before Nanami cleared his throat- pulling his hand from yours again.

“I’m afraid I’ve lost them entirely- I’ll reprint them tomorrow morning.” his tone stern and clear as the parish member nodded- unsure of Nanami’s words as you stood there.

You flashed a small smile at the parish member- “Father, the deaconess is looking for you.” they continued.

Only you crossed your arms beneath your breasts and rested back onto the edge of the Father’s desk- too smug for what they had just witnessed.

“Thank you, I’ll be out in a minute.”

Hesitatingly, the parish member closed the door and left. Leaving you and the Father in a devastatingly thick with tension room. You placed a hand onto his upper bicep- the same bicep that had been tempting you for the entire service.

“I’m available anytime you need me, Father,” you whispered before you left the troubled man alone in the room. Your touch lingering on his bare skin as he placed his hands flat onto the surface of the desk.

The very same desk he was picturing you bent over in his mind a mere few seconds ago.

His hands were clammy against the surface, an ache rowling in his tummy as he closed his eyes and tried shaking away the thoughts of your breasts daring to spill from the low cut neckline of your dress.

Or how tight the fabric looked pressed against your hips when you walked away from him.

In the end Nanami was still a man with eyes- not even a priest could control their wandering gaze.

He wanted to tell you- he needed to say to you that he couldn’t help you anymore. That little arrangement after Sunday mass, where you would lure him in with descriptions of the proclivities taking place late at night, couldn’t happen anymore.

Nanami was sure that the next time he saw you, he would tell you to get out of his church and find someone better suited to your troubles.

Yet he sat there again, twiddling his thumbs to avoid the urge to reach for his zipper.

A week of cold showers were, as you said- they didn’t fucking help. On mornings when Nanami would wake up with urge bursting from his boxers or by just remembering the sweet tinge the air had once you left- the appendage between his legs would twitch in betrayal.

The realization that you were a test made him even more intrigued, as though it pushed him further into your clutches. He was desperate to know if he would succeed in this test his god put before him.

And sitting in that chair, hearing you speak of the filth that raged in your mind without shame.

A feigned chime of disappointment in yourself when you fell back into the temptation again, but this time, Nanami saw it was false. That the slight curl your lips had wasn’t a defense mechanism; you found humor in the trouble inflicted on him.

As though you could smell the fear in his very soul from the chance of succeeding in enticing him.

And yet, Nanami still sat there listening. A masochistic churn in his brain had him listen to every temptation.

“You’ve never felt this way, Father?” you whirred, the amused look in your eyes masked by the fanning of your lashes. “As though you started something you couldn’t stop doing?”

Yes, he did know the feeling. He knew once he met you he wouldn’t have been able to stop seeing you- speaking to you. Even if you were trying to bewitch him, he knew in his mind he wouldn’t be able to stop saying yes to your requests for these sessions.

“Has it helped?” He murmured, straightening his back and interlocking his hands.

You let out a little giggle, “If anything- it hasn’t. But I can't stop.” taking a little nibble at your bottom lip, “It makes me crave more.” That was the sentence that made Nanami look at you more dangerously than before-

Now, Nanami knew you needed more, and you didn’t care to stop the urges.

Keeping a low tone, “I yearn for more.” you spoke- clearly so he could hear. Nanami gulped, tingles rushing into his cheeks making his brain nervous. “For the warmth of another person.”

Nanami had to bite his tongue- pretend he heard your thoughts as a church priest and not as a man.

“I’m sure you’ve never felt this way Father. You’re an extraordinary priest- It must be jarring to hear my inner monologue.” You spoke softly, so sure he would agree.

Nanami inhaled, “Not at all. Life as a priest is very lonely.” he smiled, his mouth dry at the words that dared rumble in his mind. “I’ve found myself craving the warmth of another person before. It’s normal.”

Except it fucking wasnt- not for a man with as much ressolve as he did. Not once in those ten years of being in the priesthood did he find himself craving warmth to surround and twitch around him as badly as he did now. Especially now.

And when the time came to walk you out of his office, you stood at his desk.

He took the place next to you in the very spot he pictured you bent over in before. Standing the very same way you were the last Sunday you were in his office.

Only this time- there was no chatter outside his window from the event. In that church it was only you and him.

And as though you knew, you looked into his eyes, testing the space between you, leaning in mere millimeters at a time.

And the Father, tormented by the choice of stepping back or falling into the temptation you had to offer. Your lips parted as you gazed into Nanami’s eyes, his jittery and nervous pupils trying to figure out if you were getting closer or if he was just crazed enough to picture it.

“Can you help me, Father?” you whispered, raising your hand to his bicep and touching it lightly.

His lips were agape- inhaling as much air into his dry mouth as he thought of the words to say. The only ones he could process; “How?”

Your nose no more than an inch from his- you inhaled, a fire burning in your tummy and pooling between your legs at his dissolve. “Touch me.” was all you could whisper before he closed his eyes and pressed his lips to yours.

Warmth. The warmth of a human he had craved for days now pressed against his lips made his shoulders shiver. Raising his hands from his side and placing one as lightly at the side of your neck. The other lacing behind your back and pressing against the little curve above your bottom.

His lips took a gentle approach- slotting them with care against yours as his hands urged you to rest on the edge of his desk.

Burning in his loins was an ache- an ache that grew with the haste he made in slipping his tongue past his lips and against yours. Leaving behind any last reservation he had to stop this before it went too far.

Whispers of groans took form of small whimpers as your hands dragged down his torso and guided his hips to rest between your thighs. Never did he appreciate how good this felt before- the feeling of tongues slathering against each other and being able to taste you on his tongue.

Never in his days before becoming a priest did he appreciate the feeling of warm plush skin beneath his hands, the hand on the small of your back lowering to the clothed swell of your ass and taking a desperate grip.

The one on your neck lowering to your chest- cupping his hand on the side of your rib with his thumb curled at the bottom of your breast.

Nanami knew that he could come undone from just this- no stimulation to the leaking with excitement mess in his black slacks, just his hands full of plentiful skin and his lips busy with feeling the muscle of your tongue swirl against his.

But your hands roamed down to the buckle of his belt, being able to feel his ache press against your thigh. Nanami pulled his lips from yours begrudgingly- “I can’t-” he breathed, slowing your moving hands and hearing his plea.

“I can’t.” he closed his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows; only one of your hands reached up to his neck, pulling his head onto your shoulder with your lips at the perfect angle of his ear.

“You are a good priest,” you whispered, placing a light kiss on his cartilage and continuing your other hand in slowly unbuckling his belt. The tips of your fingers softly grazing the short blonde hair of his undercut. His hands went unmoved from your clothed skin as he fought the mental battle.

You placed another soft kiss on his warmed ear, “Tell me how long it’s been since you rid yourself of the poison, Father.” you whispered, undoing the button of his slacks slowly as his breath grazed against your collarbone.

“Far too long.”

You licked your lips at the image of how much seed he’ll spurt- undoing his zipper at an agonizing pace, “Tell me to stop and I will.” you murmured, your breath tickling his ear as your hand rested on his hip. Waiting for his permission.

Nanami swallowed harshly; his hands had a bruising hold on your skin as you offered what he yearned for on a silver platter.

“Please,” he whispered, not knowing what he was pleading for.

A little exhale with a giggle grazed Nanami’s ear, “I need to hear you say it.” you whispered, the hand on your button roaming down the side of your thigh and grazing the hem of the skirt you wore.

“Please touch me.” he whispered- your hand trailed to the band of his briefs, his breathing hitching against your skin with a mean grip formed on your thigh.

The gasp that left his lips bordered on a whimper as your fingers dipped into his briefs, being able to feel how hard he was immediately. Wasting no time in pulling out his strained desire as he held you closer, bracing for what he had asked for.

Taking a light hand as you wrapped your fingers around his shaft- heavy and hot in your palm as he inhaled sharply. “You are a good man, Father,” you whispered, starting slow strokes at his crying cock.

“You deserve to be helped,”

“To be touched.”

His strained cock threatened to release his mess right then and there- the scent of you filling his nose with the slow strokes of your wrist, added with your assuring words; Nanami swore he was about to.

But your hand didn’t let him, cutting your strokes short right before you could roll over his cockhead. Opening your mouth and placing your lips onto his neck, lightly lapping at the skin- his groans deepening in response.

Pulling his forehead from your shoulder, pressing his lips onto yours again in urge- Nanami wanted to do as you had asked. He wanted to touch you. But his hands couldn’t focus on anything other than groping at whatever body part he could find.

His lips moving in unpatterned movements against yours- speeding up the pace of your hand and feeling his groans rumble onto your lips. Your eyes half-lidded and watching the little sheen of sweat form at his blonded hairline.

Amused at how worked up he was from a few strokes- but your hand isn’t moving fast enough for him. Nanami started bucking his hips into your hand with urge. His balls clenched as he felt the estranged feeling of an orgasm build.

His nose huffed out strained breaths as his kisses became sloppy, tightening the grip of your hand and watching his brows pinch together. Pulling his lips from you and letting out a drawn out groan.

Nanami’s hips stuttering as his orgasm rolled over him in hot waves. Oozes of his seed coating your fingers with every thrust he made. And it was so fucking much- it made you regret not hiking your skirt up and taking it inside wether than on your hand.

His breathing was coarse as your wrist assisted in riding him down, kissing softly at your exposed collarbone as his still-hard cock pulsed in your hand. Making you wonder just how backed up he really was.

As though his hand heard your thoughts, they reached down to the hem of your skirt and started hiking it up. You looked into his eyes—dark and full of want, with a goal shimmering in them.

Smiling softly, “Father-” you teased, feeling his strong hands grip your bare thighs before roaming back to the little zipper of your top and undoing it slowly, wasting no time in unclasping the band of your bra along with it.

Pulling back and looking at you- bare and as he had pictured you.

Nanami didn’t have a thought in his mind- completely mush and with only one goal in mind. Guiding you to lay back on the desk, his hands roaming down to your thighs- being able to see the growing dark spot of your lace panties.

Your skirt bunched up at your hips as he reached a hand up to his collar. Pulling it off and closing his eyes with a small exhale. Undoing the top button of his black dress shirt and feeling his cock pulse.

His lips moved in a soft whisper- almost in a prayer. But his hands trailing to the damp center of your lacy panties told you that prayer isn’t working.

Nanami didn’t pray for the strength to stop- he didn’t want to. He started the prayer of forgiveness knowing that he didn’t want to stop. Some kind of assurance that the sooner he started begging for forgiveness, he would be pardoned.

A soft gasp left your lips as he traced his middle and index finger up your damp cunt. Looking at the enticing sight with his mouth watering, lightly circling the tips of his fingers onto your perched clit as you hummed.

His other hand going to his cock- pained and daring to run red from the neglect. You bit your lip softly at the sight, his hair disheveled and an unashamed blush on his cheeks.

Stopping his prayer and looking at the painting hung on the wall in front of him- a saint looking at him in disgust. He waited a second- as though he was waiting for the voice of his god to come thundering down.

But it didn’t- “Forgive me.” he muttered, placing his fat cock onto your slit. His heavy shaft resting against your clit with a little sigh.

Bucking his hips with soft grunts as your warmth radiated on the underside of his cock. Frotting his cock against you- another way of justifying his sinning. He wasn’t actually fucking you- so it didnt count right?

But every whimper and moan your lips would make, added with the feeling of his heavy cockhead bumping against your clit made it fucking tempting. As fast as the first orgasm build in his tummy- the second one came even quicker.

And he knew he could hold it- no matter how many thrusts his cock brushed against your cunt with vulgar squelches- Nanami was determined to wait.

But the smile on your lips at the lack of resolve curled into a wicked smile: “Put it inside—please, Kento.” The one time you had said his name—what kind of man was Nanami to deny you such a request?

He pulled his cock from your slick with various strings of your arousal as he angled his tip with your entrance.

Nanami’s face was troubled, as though he was still hesitating. “Just the tip,” you whispered, smugly knowing he barely had the resolve to hesitate. He would listen to you.

He gulped with a little grunt, placing his tip at your slick entrance and gasping at the sheer warmth. You hummed lightly when his hips finally pushed in the slightest, pushing past the seal of your cunt with a moan soaked with bliss.

Unable to remember when he felt such pleasure that made him want to say thank you.

And as though your cunt was trying to suck him in- his hips didnt stop, “I’m sorry.” he whispered, sinking himself into you and planting a hand onto the wooden desk, allowing himself to lean over on top of you with a drawn out moan.

You let out a light hiss at the sting of his girth- placing your hands on his back and holding onto him as he stayed still.

His shoulders trembling and his hips urgent in moving. Even if it was you who was making him go mad- Nanami still had the decency to allow you time to adjust.

Your breasts pressed against his chest as you waited for his hips to start moving. But he didnt want to, as though having his cock inside of you was still permissable, but the movement of fucking you wouldn’t be.

“Move-” you hummed, hands braced against the back of his dress shirt with your velvet walls twitching around him- pleading at the Father to give you what you wanted.

Nanami only let out a shaky breath- “I can’t,” similar to a little sob but laced with a grunt. Your lips pressed against his temple, brushing them against his ear with a smile.

“Give me what I want.” Whispered and invaded his ear as his grip on the desk turning his knuckles white. “I want this Kento-” you whined, trying to convince him to move- to fuck you like you knew he could.

“I want you.”

Nanami groaned at the little clench your walls made around him- “I can feel you trembling-” kissing his ear with a little damp spot left in wake. “Just pull out of me- then push back in.” feeling his hips follow your guidance as though you controlled them.

He whimpered in a breath at the sensation, “Doesn’t that feel good?” you hummed, digging your fingers into his back in the slightest.

And it did- it felt like heaven on earth for Nanami. And as though he couldn’t control it- he did it again. As slowly as he could, with his tip brushing your gspot on every drag of his cock. And every slow thrust he made- grinding his pelvis against your clit from how deep he was pushing himself in.

You only whimpered at the slow thrusts- being able to feel the hesitance in the pushes Nanami made.

One side of him kept the appearance of being kind, making sure to make this about you, whereas the other side of him was yelling at him, pleading with him to speed up- faster and faster.

Fuck into you as you had been begging him to from the moment you first walked into his church.

You laced your lips with his again. Had his hands had any more strength, they would have cracked the wood of the desk from how desperately he was gripping.

Barely able to withstand the sluggish strokes he made- as slow as you had instructed him to. But you pulled your lips from his, want and demand in your eyes as he looked at you- completely broken down and yours in that moment.

“Fuck me-” you whimpered, watching the urge to make this about you dissipate behind his eyes.

With one drag of his cock- he jabbed back into you. And again and again- rougher and with intent as he buried his face into the crook of your neck.

Nanami didn’t even know what words spilled from his lips- laced with grunts and the crude plapping of his heavy, full balls slapping against your ass. Pleads for nothing in particular- ‘Please, please-’

Apologies muttered into your ear for having his way with you, ‘I’m sorry- m’sorry.’

“I have to- I have to-” muttered between his grunts as a mantra to keep him sane.

His frustrations with the chaos you caused in his mind aided in drilling into you with mean thrusts- your whimpers full of content and moans littered with one more request of him- “More.”

And he gave you as much as he had- Nanami had given himself up to you entirely and was fucking glad to do it. His tortured mind had metamorphosed into pure bliss, with his body buzzing in sheer excitement for his second orgasm.

Grunts with one question- “Can I-” barely legible and laced with the sounds of vile squelching coming from where you linked with him. “Inside,” huffed in the same breath as a groan.

You huffed a happy exhale- glad he wanted to spill himself inside of you.

“F-fill m-” was all you managed before he took on a rougher pace- pounding into you as though he was made for it. His skin burned beneath the black clothing and pressing his lips onto yours again. Barely able to kiss you- pearly teeth clashing against yours at every turn of his head.

The joint groan that left you both when he halted his thrusts- burrowed deep inside of you as your walls clenched around him. Shallow pumps were all he gave before searing, thick seed spilled inside of you.

Shakingly breathing against your lips as he eased down the pinnacle of his second orgasm. Thinking the realization of what he had done would hit him like thunderous fear- but it didn’t.

In the moment of the afterglow bliss, Nanami didn’t care what happened after this. He knew in his marrow that this was worth it—you were worth it.

Even if he had failed the test sent down by his god, Nanami knew he would never have found anything or anyone that gave him half as much serenity.

Not in the years he had spent in the priesthood did he find half as much peace as he did now. Balls deep in the coated walls of your cunt in the office meant for a godly man.

That’s what peace was to Nanami at that moment.

(a.n) this was very hot to write ^-^

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