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Sacred & Profane
When Daunté Bennifetto left home to attend seminary school, he never intended to return to the small town he’d grown up in. But it would seem God had other plans.
After Father Eton’s sudden death, Daunté finds himself in charge of his childhood parish and all of its parishioners, including Camillah Lima, the woman he can’t seem to forget. And true to form, the wild and spirited girl he remembers hasn’t changed a bit, headlining at a club as an exotic dancer.
When Daunté runs into Mrs. Lima—Camillah's disapproving mother—she begs him to intervene in her daughter's life, perhaps setting her back on the path to righteousness. Because of their sordid past, he knows he should stringently refuse, yet he can't seem to stay away. Night after night, Father Bennifetto finds himself worshiping at Cam’s feet, in a club appropriately named, The Sin Bin.
Author Note: Sin Bin was formerly featured in the Sacred & Profane Anthology
Chapter One
“Don’t you want to come inside me?” Camillah panted as she straddled his lap. “Just once before you give your life to God, don’t you want to know what it feels like to be inside me, Daunté?”
He shook his head in denial, but was already gripping her hips, guiding them. “God forgive me!”
Cam unzipped his jeans, and gasped. “Oh, Daunté, you’re so hard.”
When she feathered her fingertips over his throbbing tip, he almost bucked her from his lap.
“This one time…please,” she begged, “it’ll have to last us a lifetime.”
Again, she reached for him, but he gripped her wrist. One touch and he’d never make it inside her sweet, ripe pussy.
Still in her clothes from dance class, she lifted the short filmy skirt giving him a glimpse of the pristine white bodysuit beneath. His gaze went straight to the sleek triangular swatch between her legs.
Eagerly, he dragged his hand between her thighs. His fingertips caught the row of snaps on her leotard.
“Pull ’em, Daunté,” she dared breathlessly while rocking her hips invitingly.
He tugged on the material—that last thin barrier between them—and with three small pops, his fingers met her soft flesh. “Uhhh, Cammie.”
She swatted his hand out of the way, and lowered her center of gravity, then she rubbed her pussy against his aching erection. Her juices coated his length, creating the most decadent sensation.
“I can’t stand it, Cam.”
She reared up. He held his cock straight, and as she descended, he plunged...
* * * *
Father Daunté Bennifetto collapsed against his pillows, gasping for breath. Sweat covered his thrumming body. Warm sticky ejaculate streaked his palms.
It wasn’t exactly how it had happened. His mind had fine-tuned the memory over time, and his lascivious imagination had filled in the rest. That one sexual encounter was supposed to expunge his wicked urges, but it had done the opposite and only whet his appetite for more.
Rolling out of bed, he immediately went to the bathroom.
Disgusted with himself, he stared at his reflection in the mirror as he scrubbed his hands clean. His thick dark hair was uncharacteristically tousled and the layer of coarse stubble covering his jaw leant him a sinister air. His eyes appeared almost black. Evil. Again his obscene desires had gotten the better of him.
He knew what he had to do.
Daunté strode back into the bedroom and knelt at the side of his bed. From under the mattress he dragged out the hardbound case. He depressed the latches, and opened the lid.
Warily, he hefted the discipline strap, testing the weight in his hand.
With a deep breath, he gained his feet, and faced the full-length mirror. He opened his stance and braced himself—for a different kind of release.
He bowed his head and began to pray, as he snapped the end of the whip over his left shoulder with stinging precision.
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