crave | 16+

Bonus chapter

warning
viewers discretion advised:
intimacy in public and blasphemy

JOSEPHINE

     I SIGH AND GET out of my car, making my way into the church, watching all the other people making their way to the church service as well. Working on the 20th floor apparently requires way more work than anyone ever cared to inform me about. I sit on the church bench, my legs crossed over one another.

Elijah and I hadn't talked the entire week, and it shouldn't but it bothers me. I know he's merely my boss, and I his employee, but I doubt he lets Kristen ride his boner in his office, and ends meetings for her. I sigh, and look around seeing a gentleman sitting a row ahead of me, to my left with a suit that looks expensive.

The church next to my apartment isn't that popular, and it's rare there's new people here. The church is like a little community where we all know one another. I mean for the love of God, there's even a facebook group just for us. I shake my head, and focus on what the priest is preaching about.

I look over to the right side of the benches and see another man a row ahead of me, wearing the exact same thing as the other man. I frown, and sit up straight, the priest's word suddenly fogging out. What the he–

"Josephine." I look to my right, seeing a man sitting right next to me. Well, praise the angel.

"Mr. Christ."

He chuckles, avoiding my eyes. He puts his hand on my thigh, but I push it off, focusing back on the priest. I turn to him, and give him a "we're-in-church" look. The service suddenly feels like an eternity, having to sit with the two random men a row in front of me, and the man who makes my head go into straight bliss whenever he's close to me.

I've had boyfriends in the past, I've had my heart broken by many boys whos balls have yet to drop, but it's different with Elijah. Not only does he make me feel things I've never felt, he makes it all fun. Like, being reckless is okay, and wanting him is natural.

People raise from their seats and get in line for the sacramental bread, before lining up to the confessions. I always get into the confession, when the priests and people are gone so no one can really judge me for all the bad shit I do most of the time. Like dry-fucking my boss, and moaning his name.

When I get in line, I look back at the bench to see Elijah gone. What the hell? He doesn't strike me as the type to go to church, and it's the first time I've ever seen him here. I pay it no more mind, before I eat the tiny piece of dry bread, and make my way toward the confession.

The window is closed, and I rub my hand over my forehead, before saying the line that doesn't keep you out of hell,

"Forgive me father, for I have sinned."

I know there's no one on the other side, which makes me feel more ridiculous, but also makes me feel calm. There isn't a man sitting on the other side, judging me.

"I haven't been faithful. When the devil can't get to you, he sends a man, they say, and God how right they were. There is this man...who...well- he makes me...feel things. Things I know are sinful...things I know God doesn't forgive for...yet...I can't seem to find the importance of that, and stop engaging with this man. He makes me feel alive. He makes passion look beautiful, instead of frowned upon," I say all while having a clear picture of Elijah in my head.

"But, I'm afraid he's using me for pleasure only, until he finds someone else that entertains his attention more than I, Father. All I want is to trust him, and be able to let go with him, but I am afraid that if I fall, he won't be there to catch me."

I uncross my legs and get ready to get up, until I hear someone clearing their throat on the other side of the window. Fuck. Me.

"Come here," is all the very familiar voice says. I hesitate, as I make my way out of my confession box, and slowly pull the curtain to the other one for. And there he is, his legs spread, a dangerous look on his God-molded face.

He stands up, and I want to quit my job right now, and move back home to my parents in Alabama. God can't even save me now.

"Sit down, Josephine."

I do as he tells me, and sit down on the chair, making him look way bigger than me. He looks down at me, and squints his eyes. No dangerous smirk or teasing grin this time. He crouches down so that we're on the same eye-level before putting his hands on both my thighs.

"My attention," —he starts, moving his hands higher up my thighs— "is all yours, Josephine."

He pushes my skirt up to my v-line, and slowly rubs me through the thong I'm wearing. A soft moan spills out my mouth, and I curl my toes under my boots by the sensation. Elijah pushes my thong to the side and carefully pushes a finger into me, which makes my back arch.

"Is one okay?" he asks, before kissing my neck, sucking every now and then.

I nod my head, and put my hands on his shoulders, digging my nails into them. He chuckles and licks a wet trail on my neck before blowing cold air at it, making me shiver.

"You're being such a good girl for me, you know?" he whispers into my ear, which makes another moan spill out of my mouth, as I feel his fingers inside of me.

Elijah bends his fingers upward inside of me, and in a haze I open my mouth and moan so loudly, he has to put a hand on my mouth to make sure no one hears us. "Found it," he smirks with pride at me, before rubbing the spot.

And that's where I lose my shit. I begin grinding his fingers, silently begging for more
more
more
and Elijah seems to be enjoying the view. I tighten around him, and I feel him slowing down.

"Ah-ah-ah, we can't have you cuming now, can we?" he mocks, and I grab his shoulders riding again, but this time he pulls them out of me. I groan in protest thinking he's going to leave me like this.

Before I feel his hands sneak up from the back of my thigh. He swings my legs over his shoulders, and I have no time to prepare before his tongue is licking me. God, bless his tongue. I gasp, and press my thighs together, forgetting his head is between them for a hot minute.

Small whines keep leaving my mouth, as Elijah slows down and speeds up having me wanting more. Needing more.

"Elijah please!" I beg, my eyes going wide.

I feel him smile between my legs, before he looks up at me. "What's my name?" he asks, as he digs into his meal again.

I repeat his name. And again. And again. And again. Until it is the only name on earth I remember. Until his tongue is glazed with my cum. He slowly pulls back from me, looking up at me.

He gets up on his feet, and buttons his suit jacket before helping me to my feet.

"I'll always catch you, miss Moore."

. . .
someone begged for me to include this so here you go, whoever asked <3