Devil at the Vatican (BL)

Chapter 19

Faustina's head bobbed back and forth deeply. Her hands gripped his thighs as she worked him, her supple lips suctioned around his flesh. Her breasts were exposed, covered in tiny bruises and red marks. Elio could see her nipples were swollen from being sucked on hard.

The priest gasped and grabbed the back of Faustina's head, forcing his entire self deep into her throat. When Elio saw her throat bulge out, he felt his anus tighten. Marcel was thick, and dangerously long. She gagged but kept moving it in and out as much as he would let her. Her face reddened from the effort, but she kept going. 

Marcel never looked more beautiful to Elio.

Sweat glistened from the priest's forehead and his hair, now wild, clung to his face. His eyes were intoxicated with lust and his delicate lips were roseate with sinful fertility. Every muscle in his body was tensed, bulging from the pleasure. His eyes rolled back, lost in time and space. Finally, his breathing hitched, stopped... then he gasped and the most delectable whimper left him before he breathed out heavily. 

Marcel came silently into the young woman's mouth, holding her head in place. He clenched his eyes shut as the waves of pleasure shot through him. Elio could see his member visibly throb with each pulse of semen. Quiet groans escaped him. Elio flattened himself to the door to catch every sound. 

Faustina covered her mouth as she rose to her feet. Marcel waved her off with one hand, and then began fastening his pants. Her expression broke into utter hurt and she ran from the deck, opening the door beside Elio and running past him without even noticing he was there.

Elio found himself running after her. It was clear that Father Marcel wouldn't give chase. He didn't look at her once after he orgasmed. 

And it was better for Elio to go after her than stay there with him. He needed to do something, anything, other than stay near Marcel.

Elio caught Faustina on the stairs on her way back down to steerage. No plans existed. He had no idea what he was intending, but he kept moving, continued on based purely on instincts.

He grabbed her arm and stopped her on the landing between the floors. Faustina made a yelping noise, but her mouth was still closed. Once Elio realized what she still carried in her mouth, not yet swallowed or spat out, the tsunami of lust he felt from early came rushing out of him all at once. 

"Give it to me," Elio growled, his voice quivering into two voices. The crucifix bracelets began to burn. He grabbed Faustina's lovely face with one hand and snatched her over to him. He squeezed the joints of her jaw as he mashed their lips together. Her mouth opened to him. Her scream was cut off by his other hand, which was now squeezing her throat to keep her from swallowing what belong to him.

Marcel's seed spilled from her mouth and onto Elio's waiting tongue. The bitter creamy taste of the priest's semen sent waves of ecstasy through his very soul. He moaned, relishing the taste. It was unlike anything he'd ever tasted before. He wanted this more than food or drink... more than he wanted to breathe. He wanted to be baptized in it, to swim in a sea of it.

Elio's tongue invaded her mouth. He licked and sucked up every last drop of the priest's ejaculate until there was nothing left but Faustina's slob and tears. Once he collected it all in his mouth, Elio gulped it down. The very act of such a thing nearly brought him to orgasm.

His own member was bursting through his pants now, needing to be touched. He knew exactly what he was doing and how dangerous it would be, but he would go crazy if he didn't get some sort of release. 

Elio removed his bracelets. 

"I am hungry. Feed me before we both perish..."

Elio met Faustina's terrified eyes, no longer strangling her. She sobbed and opened her mouth to scream or plea for him to let her go, but suddenly... calmness settled onto her shoulders. The pain in her jaw and neck ceased entirely.  His eyes turned completely black.