Sweetest Sin (A Forbidden Priest Romance) by Sosie Frost

Author:Sosie Frost [Frost, Sosie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sosie Frost
Published: 2016-03-28T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve – Raphael

Midnight.

Some believed it to be an unholy hour. I thought the opposite.

I used the stillness of the night to pray. The Liturgy of the Hours took dedication, practice, and time. The quiet in the dead of night, when all others slept through their sins and salvation, was my time to find peace.

But I had none tonight.

Honor arrived precisely at midnight.

And I knew I’d lost her.

My angel. Not fallen, but hurt. Enraged and insulted. Shamed because she was so very innocent to the world and its evils.

I welcomed her inside. Honor was content to scowl from the front step.

The only sin worse than what occurred in the confessional was if anyone saw a woman waiting on my porch at midnight.

“Come in,” I said. “Please.”

She didn’t move. Her arms tightly crossed, protecting her core. I wasn’t sure what she wished to hide from me, but I had seen it all. I’d memorized it all. Her body. Her curves. The erotic softness of her skin.

Nothing—not prayer, not willpower, not even confession—would ever have me forget such a gift.

Her lips strained, a frown stretching the usual plumpness. She looked away with swollen eyes. She had been crying. Because of me.

I’d caused this poor, beautiful creature such misery.

As if I didn’t hate myself already.

I hated to order her, but she’d always obeyed before. “Honor, please. If someone sees…”

“Right.” She swallowed and stepped within my home. “Couldn’t have that. What a sin.”

I didn’t recognize the pain in her voice. It would haunt me until the end of my days.

I closed the door, but she moved no farther than the entry. The least I could do was offer her a seat in the living room. A cup of coffee or cool drink.

Wasn’t that what men did for women?

Or was I lost in a world of blessings and prayers? I usually offered comfort for sins they had committed, not the pains I’d inflicted.

Honor wouldn’t have accepted my help. I doubted she wanted my apologies either. My greatest mistake wasn’t the touch we shared or the pleasure I gave. It was underestimating a strong woman.

“Do you want to sit?” I asked.

“No.”

“Can I get you anything—”

“No, Father.”

She stared at my cassock. It wasn’t necessary to wear it in my home, but I worried I wouldn’t act responsibly without the collar.

Especially after today.

Especially after the delight of her lips, the warmth of her mouth, and the enthusiasm she used to serve me in such a humbling and sinful manner.

Honor cast her pony tail over her shoulder. The thick curls of her hair fell behind her back. It exposed her face, her neck, the delicate curve of her ears with the tiny gold studs that glistened in the light. I wished she hadn’t frowned.

“I’m a good person, Father,” she said. “I try to be kind, even when others don’t deserve it.”

It shamed me to think that she questioned her virtues. “I know.”

“And I’m honest. Obviously. Or I never would’ve made the mistake of confessing to you.”

“It wasn’t a mistake, Honor.

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