Father Lazarus

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"Confess! Confess how much you get wet when I look at you while I'm on that podium, how your nipples harden sharply beneath your clothes, and how your skin blazes with heat every time my eyes lock onto yours." His words didn't merely reveal a secret; they ripped through me, sinking deep into my flesh and igniting a slow-burning fire beneath my skin. The warmth spread like wildfire, searing every nerve ending. His words tasted like sin-heavy, forbidden, intoxicating.

His hands curved possessively around my waist, pulling me into the dangerous gravity of his presence, his breath whispering dark promises hot against the back of my neck. So close, so raw-his body pressed against mine spun a web of wicked temptation that made my knees weak and my thoughts slip free. I wanted to fall, to lose myself completely in this sin that we were weaving between us, hungry and unrepentant.

Our love was a shadow creeping over sacred ground, forbidden as the fruit God guarded fiercely. Like Adam and Eve before us, we stood trembling on the edge of damnation, reaching for that tantalizing knowledge we were told to avoid. But this time, it wasn't Eve who tasted the fruit first -it was Adam. And Father Lazarus didn't just nibble quietly; no, he devoured the entire apple in one reckless, desperate bite, swallowing sin whole without pause.

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