The Priest’s Dirty Confessions

Isabella’s POV

The confessional booth was never meant for this.

I could barely breathe as my back hit the wood, as his hands gripped my thighs like he’d been starving for me all along. The screen between us rattled, whispering to the empty church outside. Every sound felt too loud. Every breath, too sinful.

“Father…” My voice shook. “We shouldn’t—”

“Don’t call me that right now,” he cut in, lifting his lips from my nipple he had been sucking. “Not here. Not while I...” His words broke into a groan, his fingers digging harder into my vagina.

I swallowed, my heart racing. “You’re supposed to be hearing my confession.”

“I am.” His eyes burned through the shadows. “Every part of you… every sound you make… it’s all a confession.”

Heat coiled inside me. “This is wrong.”

“Then tell me to stop.” His voice was rough, daring. “Say it, Isabella, and I’ll let you go.”

But I didn’t. I couldn’t. The silence stretched, heavy and dangerous, until I finally whispered, “Don’t stop.”

His breath hitched, like those two words shattered everything he’d been holding back. He pulled me closer, his collar still tight around his throat, his jaw clenched like he hated himself for wanting me this way.

“Do you have any idea,” he said through his teeth, “how long I’ve fought this?”

My body trembled. “Tell me.”

“Every time you walked in. Every time you looked at me. Every damn night I told myself it was temptation.” His voice cracked, raw. “But it wasn’t temptation, Isabella. It was you. Only you.”

The booth creaked under us, my breath coming faster, the world outside fading away. If anyone stepped into the church, if anyone heard...

“Someone could be listening,” I gasped.

“Let them,” he growled, his mouth pressing to my throat. “Let them hear what sin sounds like.”

“Dominic...” My voice broke on his name, the one I wasn’t supposed to use, the one that made this more real than I could bear.

He froze. Just for a second. His chest rose and fell against mine, his jaw locked tight like he’d just heard the bells of damnation ring in his ears.

“Say it again,” he whispered.

“Dominic,” I breathed, my lips brushing his ear.

And just like that, he exploded..

His mouth crashed against mine, he kissed me deeply, desperate, hungry, claiming what neither of us could ever take back. The taste of him, the heat of his body—everything screamed danger. But it was too late. We were already too far gone.

His breath was hot against my ear when he growled, “I can’t hold back anymore.”

Before I could even answer, Dominic’s hands were on me—pulling at my top, dragging it up over my head, unhooked my bra with the other hand until my breast was bare to the candlelight that leaked through the screen. My skirt was next, he pulled it high around my hips with one rough tug. He shoved my panties to the side, and the sound of his zipper cut through the booth like a gunshot.

“Dominic...” My whisper cracked, my heart beating so hard I thought the whole church could hear it.

“Say it again,” he demanded, his voice trembling. “Say my name.”

“Dominic.” The word spilled out of me, shaky and desperate.

In the next breath, he pulled me onto him as he placed my vagina onto his dick guiding it with his hands. My body crashed against his, filling the small confessional with the sharp creak of wood and the sound of our ragged breaths.

I clung to his shoulders, moving on him with reckless need, every thrust of my hips shaking the booth, every moan betraying me. His mouth found my breasts, sucking, biting softly, worshipping what he had no right to touch.

“God forgive me,” he muttered against my skin, but his hands only gripped me tighter, urging me to ride him faster.

I rode him harder, fury and hunger mixed in every motion, the thin walls trembling around us like they might collapse from the weight of our sin. His lips locked around me again, his teeth grazing, his tongue driving me wild until I was shaking in his arms.

The world outside didn’t exist. There was only his body inside mine, my hands tangled in his collar, the sound of his groans filling the holy silence.

Then...

The church door groaned open.

Footsteps echoed.

We froze.

Panic ripped through me. I reached for the candle that burned low in the corner of the booth and pinched out the flame with trembling fingers. Darkness swallowed us, leaving only the sound of our ragged breathing.

“Don’t move,” Dominic whispered, his chest rising fast against mine.

The air thickened. We listened as footsteps echoed down the aisle, voices low, casual, speaking about last Sunday’s sermon as though nothing in the world was out of place. My pulse hammered against my ribs, sweat trickling down my spine as I clung to Dominic, praying they wouldn’t come closer.

Minutes stretched.

The voices drifted away.

The door closed again. Silence.

Relief loosened my chest. I started to pull back, my shaking hands reaching for my clothes. “We can’t stay here. I need to...”

“No,” Dominic’s voice cut through the dark, rough and commanding. His hand caught mine, dragging me back.

Before I could protest, he spun me around, pressing me against the confessional wall. My palms slammed into the wood, my body caged in place. I felt the heat of him behind me, his breath hot at my ear, his grip firm as he pushed my skirt higher.

“Dominic...” I whispered, desperate and undone.

“I’m not finished with you,” he growled, one hand sliding over my chest, gripping my boobs hard as if I belonged to him. The other anchored me in place. He inserted his dick into my vagina from the back. His body pressed into mine as he pushed it in deeply. It was urgent, unholy, every movement shaking the booth around us.

The world blurred. My voice broke into gasps, the confessional groaning with every thrust of our sin, the sound of our skin meeting louder than my prayers ever were.

“God forgive me,” he muttered, his teeth grazing my shoulder, his hand tightening over my breast. “I can’t stop. I won’t stop.”

I bit down on my lip, my cries muffled against the wood. The small space filled with heat, with the rhythm of two souls tearing themselves apart for pleasure they couldn’t deny.

And then...

A flash of light cut through the carved screen.

My blood turned to ice.

The beam swept across the church pews, slow and deliberate, before sliding toward the booth where we hid.

The security patrol.