No such luck. I see him walking from the Rectory to the church as we pull into the parking lot. I can see his muscles under his tight black button-up shirt. My eyes trace the outline of his shoulders, remembering the marks I noticed on him. They graze down his body, over his perfect, round ass, and fall on his hand. I remember the noise I heard him make as that hand gripped and slipped up and down his cock.
This isn't good. I am terrified to see Father Stone, yet I am still thinking about him sexually. What the hell is wrong with me?
Maybe he forgot about me? I am just going to keep my head down and go about my business. I can't see anything, Father Stone included, if I'm looking at my desk all day.
When I get into the lobby, I gaze into the office through the large window it sits behind. Agnes is already here, as usual. I peer down the hallway behind my desk, leading to Father Stone's office, and see that his door is open and the light is off.
Thank goodness. I hurry into the office and sit at my desk quickly and quietly. I turn on my computer and get my lunch from my bag while I wait for it to load. Once I put in the password they assigned to me, I walk down the hallway, past Father Stone's office, and into the church kitchen where the delicious aroma of coffee greets me.
I walk to the tall industrial style refrigerator and place my lunch inside. When I close the door, as if I am in a horror film, suddenly, he is there.
Father Stone.
I gasp in fear, the shit thoroughly scared out of me, but his hard expression never changes.
"Jesus Christ!" I shriek, though only loud enough for him and me to hear.
"Agnes was right, you really do make a horrible nun," he says to me.
"I'm sorry… it's just…" I breathe slowly, trying to catch my breath. "You scared the shit out of me!"
Father Stone steps forward and places each hand next to my head, effectively boxing me in against the refrigerator. He looks me up and down with a feral stare. The scent of bergamot and cedar floods my nose, sending chills up my spine and moisture to my pussy. I can practically feel my eyes dilate with both fear and pleasure.
Taking me by surprise, my submissive nature has me dip my head, so I am no longer looking him in the eye.
Is Father Stone a Dom?
Is that why fantasies of him are plaguing me every day? Because the submissive in me recognizes the Dominant in him? Can he see it, too? I carefully sneak a glance. His expression is firm and gives nothing away, so I look back down at the floor. Then, he dips his head, so his mouth is right next to my ear.
"Hmm." I hear him say, but I don't respond.
"We need to talk. Immediately following morning mass. Understood?"
He places a finger beneath my chin, his touch sets my desire aflame. He brings my gaze to his, so his eyes can bore into mine. I temporarily forget how to speak, so I nod.
"Say it," he commands
"Sss--say what?" I breathe, barely able to make the words form.
"Say," he pauses. I didn't think his stare could become any more brutal than it already was, but I was mistaken. "Yes, Sir."
My eyes go wide as he confirms my earlier question.
"Ex--excuse me?" I didn't mean to talk back to him, but I couldn't contain my shock.
"Did I stutter, Suri?" he challenges.
I swallow nervously.
"No, Sir," I answer, and he can barely mask the look of pleasure that shoots across his face.
"Do you understand?"
"Yes, Sir," I say reluctantly.
"The rectory," he gives this last command and quickly turns around, exiting the kitchen.
Holy hell! What just happened?