Devil at the Vatican (BL)

Chapter 34

"I told you he cannot love you," Jonah told Elio after he'd gone to sleep. The demon met him in his dreams, not the tunnels this time.

Elio was back in his room at home with his window open so that a cool summer breeze could blow in. The house was a strange mix of Sophia's home and Oliver's. Elio sat on the bed with Jonah sitting next to him, too close as usual.

"I don't want the love you can give me," Elio told him. The demon seemed rather cautious around him, not as pushy. Maybe it was because Elio's anger could overpower him, and now they both understood this.

"His body, his cock, belongs to God, Elio. Mine only belongs to you."

"You don't have a body. You are stealing mine, or have you forgotten?"

"I am sharing yours. And because I don't have a body, doesn't mean I can't please you." Jonah gingerly placed his hand on Elio's thigh, and when Elio did not resist, slid it up his thigh.

Elio was still hot from earlier. Marcel left him and his overwhelming lust dangling at the edge of a cliff. His thirst for satisfaction from the priest was maddening. When Jonah gripped his hardened organ, Elio couldn't bring himself to resist.

"Don't," Elio warned Jonah. His hands gripped the bed as the demon unfastened his trousers.

"Stop me then." Jonah shifted into Marcel's likeness; a bit better than what he did before.

Elio couldn't resist... not when he was looking at the priest's face. He tried to lift his arms, to push the demon away as he had before, but he was so aroused that it crippled him. If only Marcel hadn't denied him, he would have resisted the demon. But then Jonah pulled him free from his pants and gripped his sensitive muscle. The demon stroked him, deeply and firmly. Elio's eyes rolled back, and his body dropped back onto the bed.

"Marcel," Elio moaned with a wide-open mouth.

"I love you too, my dear," Jonah said in Marcel's voice. Tears welled in Elio's eyes as he looked at Jonah, detecting no lies in him. It brought him pleasure to hear those words said back even if it wasn't really the priest. It stimulated him to no end to be touched so skillfully, so tenderly by those hands as well.

What Elio did not realize was that he was moaning the priest's name out loud, in the real word beyond his dream. His short quick gasps and squirming body roused Father Marcel from his own slumbers. Marcel lit a candle and lifted it beside Elio's sleeping body. Elio laid on his back with a thin sheet over his body.

"Elio, wake up," Marcel whispered.

"Marcel," Elio moaned again still fast asleep.

The sheets moved around Elio's hips, fluttering in a suggestive way. When Marcel moved the candle to see this better, he saw Elio's erection pitching the sheet. At first, he believed that Elio was stroking himself in his sleep, but he quickly realized that Elio's hands were at his sides, grabbing the sheets in a fit of rapture. Something else was touching him.

Marcel pulled the covers back to see precisely what was transpiring.

Elio's cock protruded from his trousers; the veiny brown skin exposed in all this glory. The skin moved. Deep indentations formed along Elio's erection, and they slid up and down his skin, pushing and pulling hard enough to almost lift Elio from the ground.

Something invisible was stroking him. Or something inside him was. Marcel covered his mouth and sank back against the wall of the tent. He tried to rouse Elio again, but the young man was practically comatose. This happened before, in the stable back at the lemon village. He shook Elio for quite a while before he woke up.

So, all Marcel could do was watch as Elio received manual stimulation from the tricky demon Jonah, while moaning his name. A tear fell from Elio's eyes as he then moaned, "Touch me like you love me."

It was torture, pure and simple. Marcel felt strongly for Elio, and he pushed him away. He was not ignorant of how Elio felt about him, but he couldn't accept his feelings. His own emotions were in turmoil because of this bright star that suddenly appeared in his otherwise murky life.

Still, Marcel could not help but watch. The stroking quickened and Elio was truly sobbing now, gasping and moaning loud enough to startle the wilderness outside. He cried out as his stomach tensed and legs rose. "Marcel, slow... go slow! Ah! I can't take much more!" The rhythmic strokes were like lightning now and Elio's entire body vibrated from the motion. The veins in his neck protruded.

His arousal peaked and he orgasmed in an explosion of screams, tears, and shooting semen. Every limb convulsed from the rapture. His mouth hung wide open, panting for air. His seed sprayed all over him, pockmarking his stomach and thighs.

When the explosion subsided, Elio collapsed. He opened his eyes slowly, sleepily, and saw Marcel watching him with his lit candle.

Elio looked down at himself and understood at once what had transpired, what Marcel had seen and heard.

Before he could flee, Marcel snatched Elio towards him. Elio buried his face in his hands and cried out, "I'm ashamed!"

"No, Elio, no," Marcel whispered, wrapping his arms around Elio and hugging him hard into his body. His lips found Elio's forehead in a sweet kiss. "I'm sorry, Elio. It's my fault. I'm so sorry."

Elio cried into his chest. "Don't look at me! You saw!"

"You were beautiful Elio. That's all I saw. Your passion for me is a beautiful thing."

Elio was unconvinced and Marcel knew it. There was nothing more humiliating than being caught unawares in arousal. Guilt took hold of Marcel like never before. He'd pushed him into this, right into Jonah's conniving ways. Jonah likely orchestrated the whole show. He wanted Elio and he was able to get him, even in this way.

Marcel wanted Elio, and more importantly, he didn't want Jonah to have him. But what chance did he have when he was an ordained priest whose mind, body, and soul went strictly to God? Furthermore, any slip ups would be seen by Jonah to take advantage of.

"I'm a priest," Marcel whispered to Elio, choosing honesty. "If I were not a priest, I would be yours Elio. But if I were not a priest, I would have never met you. I'm sorry I pushed you away like I did. I should have opened up to you. I won't run away from you again, Elio."

Finally, Elio's cries subsided. He didn't say anything in response, but just allowed himself to be held. And that was enough.