Unholy Cravings: A Collection Of Taboo Erotica stories

Blurb: In a monastery built for repentance, two holy men will teach her the art of temptation.

Chapter 1:

Elara's POV

I stepped through the heavy oak doors of the monastery, my chest aching like a weight was dropped on it.

At twenty two, I'd lived a life of reckless indulgence, spent my nights in silk sheets with lovers I barely remembered and my days chasing highs that left me hollow.

But my last relationship, the one with the married man whose wife had almost stabbed me with a knife. It left me wondering what I was really doing. I needed atonement and I needed to purge that fire that was burning inside me as though it was insatiable.

The air inside was cool, scented with incense and aged wood, a stark contrast to the heat outside.

My simple white dress clung to my curves, the thin cotton damp from sweat, outlining the swell of my breasts and the flare of my hips.

I hadn't worn undergarments, it felt like a small act of defiance to remind me what normalcy felt like.

Two figures emerged from the alcove near the altar.

Priests, of course. The abbey's guardians, sworn to celibacy and the divine. My breath caught as they approached, the same way it did when I first saw their photos.

The first was older, perhaps in his forties, with salt and pepper hair cropped close and eyes the color of storm clouds. Father Elias.

He moved with deliberate grace, his hands clasped before him. I couldn't get my eyes off his fingers.

Beside him was father Thorne, younger, in his thirties, he had an athletic build that I marveled at how he had maintained it. His hair was a tussled mop of chestnut waves.

For some reason, I knew their full names by heart, Father Elias Hawthorne and Father Thorne Blackwood, but I couldn't remember the name of the last guy I'd fucked.

His smile was crooked, almost boyish, but there was a predatory edge to him that made my core clench.

Why the fuck was I ogling a priest. I should be praying now, or doing something that didn't involve drooling over two men that were probably as chaste as the vows they swore.

As they drew nearer, I had this urge to bolt, run and hide. But I didn't move, I stood rooted in place and I caught their scent, earth and musk, like rain soaked soil after a storm.

"Sister Elara," Father Elias's voice came as a low rumble that vibrated through me.

He gestured towards a pew. "Welcome To Sanctum Abbey. The mother superior has informed us of your intentions. We are here to guide you towards redemption."

I nodded, my throat dry as I took a seat. They flanked me, one on each side, their presence a warm pressure against my arms. They were so close that I could feel their body heat.

Father Thorne's knee brushed mine, the contact sending a shiver up my spine. Heat pooled between my thighs and I clamped them shut, willing my body to not betray me.

He didn't pull away immediately and when he finally did, his eyes met mine with a flicker of something dark. Amusement? Desire?

It was gone before I could name it. Maybe I had imagined it, maybe I was so far gone that I actually saw sin where there was chastity.

"Tell us," Father Thorne urged, his tone lighter, as he leaned in so his breath ghosted my ear. "What burdens bring you to our gates? Confessions are always the first step."

My heart hammered in my chest. I probably imagined that too, Father Thorne did not just lean in like he wanted to taste me.

The confessions tumbled out in a rush. The string of lovers, the married men, the lies, the way I had revelled in the power of my body over men. And beneath it all, the ache that never left me. I admitted how parts of me still craved it all.

As I confessed, my voice grew husky and I shifted in the pew. I was wet already, shamefully so. Thank God they couldn't smell it on me. Or could they?

Somehow, baring my soul to these two men had gotten me hornier than I ever felt.

Father Elias listened with his eyes closed, as though he was savouring each sinful syllable. When I stopped, he opened them, his gaze locking on mine with an intensity that made my nipples harden against the fabric.

"The flesh is weak, sister," he murmured, "But through discipline, we can find strength. You will join our morning vigils, our labours in the scriptorium. And tonight, we will begin with private prayer."

The words hung in the air. Why did the word private make me imagine things that had absolutely nothing to do with praying.

Father Thorne's fingers twitched on his thigh that was merely inches from mine. I imagined them tracing the hem of my dress, slipping beneath to find the wet puddle waiting there.

I closed my eyes briefly. Focus, Elara. He's a priest.

A hand gripped my wrist, making my eyes snap open at once.

Father Thorne's palm covered my hand and was faintly brushing my thigh.

"You do not have to be ashamed of your thoughts.". He peered into my eyes. Before I could fumble a response, Father Elias stood and gestured to the direction we were to go.

He led and I couldn't help staring at the way his habit draped over his broad shoulders, hinting at the muscles beneath.

I wondered how those hands would feel around my breasts, cupping them, thumb circling my peaked nipples until I whimpered.

Then I became hyper aware of Father Thorne at my side, and I realized his entire focus was on me. I wanted to show him just how my thighs pressed together to ease the ache.

By the time we reached what looked like a chamber, I was a wet trembling mess. The priests stopped at the threshold.

"Rest now," Father Elias said, his voice rougher than before, his eyes raking over my body. "You can join the private prayer tomorrow."

Father Thorne lingered around as Elias stepped away, his hand brushing the doorframe near my hip. "If you get tempted in the middle of the night, remember that confession is always open."

I didn't miss the meaning behind his words.

Alone, I collapsed on the bed, my body a live wire. I tried to sleep, tossed and turned until not a single sound could be heard aside from my shallow breaths.

I rose, slipping into the corridor. I told myself I was going to join the prayer and nothing more. Did I believe that?

Not even a little.

I peered through the half opened door of what I assumed was their private chapel.

They knelt in the middle of the room, eyes shut and lips moving.

As if they sensed me, their heads turned in unison, "Come," Father Elias commanded softly, and I obeyed, kneeling between them, my dress riding up my thigh.

Thorne's hand found my back, "Pray with us," he murmured, his palm sliding down my spine, stopping just above my ass.

We prayed for what felt like hours, our bodies inching closer and closer. My skin prickled under the near touches, the accidental graze of Father Thorne's wrist against my breast as he crossed himself and the way Father Elias's knee pressed against my thigh when he shifted.

Each contact was a spark, igniting the fire I'd come to quench.

When the vigil ended, they rose, helping me to my feet.

Father Thorne's grip on my elbow was firm, his thumb circling the bone in a way that sent jolts straight to my core.

"You should sleep, Sister. Tomorrow will be a long day."

Back in my cell, I stripped down hastily, lying naked on the sheets. My finger delved inside my wetness, thrusting with rhythm and circling the swollen clit with a moan that echoed off the walls.

I pictured them both, Elias's mouth on my neck and Thorne's eager hands parting my thighs.

I came hard, whispering their names as I bucked, biting the pillow to muffle my cries. Waves crashed through me, my pussy clenching around my fingers and my juices soaking the sheets, but the release only sharpened my hunger, leaving me gasping, skin flushed and nipples aching.

These men were unraveling me without even having to do anything.

And I loved it.

Elara's POV

I woke up slick and aching, my thighs sticky from a dream where Elias and Thorne had worshipped me on the altar, Elias's tongue delving into my sacred places with reverent strokes, Thorne's cock plunging deep while he chanted litanies.

I dressed in my white gown, the fabric hugging my bare skin making my nipples pebble at the friction. I still didn't wear any underwear.

Breakfast was torture, I was informed that I was to have breakfast with Father Elias and Thorne. They sat across from me, Elias with his composed demeanor, but I caught his eyes darting to my throat.

But what set my skin on fire was the foot sliding up my calf under the table in a slow deliberate massage.

Father Thorne's, no doubt. I bit my lip to stifle a moan, spreading my legs just enough to invite more. The cool air kissed my exposed pussy. He withdrew when a sister passed, and I shamelessly mourned the loss of his touch.

After, father Elias took me to the library for "meditation on scripture." The room was a labyrinth of shelves.

He selected a thick brown book his fingers brushing mine as he handed it over and I could have sworn that it was intentional.

"Read aloud," he instructed, settling into a chair that was way too close, his knee touching mine.

My voice trembled through the verses, each word a caress building the heat between us.

Elias shifted, then my eyes caught the tent in his habit, the outline of his thick length straining against the fabric. I faltered on a line about breasts like clusters of grapes and he leaned forward, hand on my thigh, his fingers digging just enough to leave a mark. "Continue," he growled, but his touch did not fade, he parted my knees, finding the hem of my dress.

I did, voice husky as his fingers slipped beneath, tracing the soft inner skin, inching toward my core. This was wrong, I knew it, but fuck if it didn't feel so right.

He paused at the edge, restraint flickering in his eyes. No, he can't stop now, or else I might actually self-destruct. I arched into him, whispering, "Father, please."

Then in one go, two fingers plunged into my wetness, thick and curling, stroking my walls with a precision that made me see stars. I gasped, the book tumbling from my hands as he pumped slowly, thumb circling my clit in maddening loops.

You're soaked for me, sister," he murmured, voice rough with lust. His free hand cupped my breast, rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger until I arched and whimpered.

He mumbled something about how wrong this was, then his thrusts quickened, scissoring inside me and hitting that spot that made me see stars. I came with a muffled cry, clenching around him, my juices coating his hand as he withdrew, bringing his fingers to his lips and sucking them clean with a groan.

But he didn't stop there. Rising, he pulled me to my feet, pressing me against the shelves, books digging into my back as his mouth claimed mine. It wasn't gentle, he was devouring me, his tongue thrusting in time with what his fingers had done. His erection ground against my belly, hot and insistent and I reached down, palming him through the fabric, feeling the veined length.

"Elias," I breathed, and he shuddered, breaking the kiss to trail bites down my neck, sucking marks that would turn red.

We might have gone further, but footsteps sounded outside, and he stepped back, adjusting himself. "Later," he promised, eyes dark. "In confession."

In the afternoon, I saw Thorne in the gardens. I must admit, I was unconsciously looking around for him. He led me to a secluded arbor, overgrown with vines.

"We have herbs for the infirmary," he said, but his hands were on me before I could form a sentence. Thorns pricked against my skin through the dress, but all I could think of was the mouth on mine, fiercer than Elias's, his teeth nipping my lip until he drew a bead of blood that he licked away.

"You're a temptation, Sister. Is that being done on purpose?" he rasped.

I shook my head, unable to come up with a sentence.

His hands roamed up my sides, cupping my breasts, his thumb flicking my nipples until they ached. He dropped to his knees, bunching my dress to my waist, exposing me to the open air..

Look at you, bare and dripping for me." His breath fanned my folds and I nodded. I was wet for him, for both of them.

I threaded my fingers in his hair, guiding him closer.

He inhaled deeply, then dove in, his tongue flat and broad, lapping from entrance to clit in one long stroke that made my knees buckle.

I cried out, clutching the vines as he devoured me, sucking my clit like a starved man. Two fingers joined his tongue to fuck me deep and hard. Wet sounds filled the garden, mingling with my moans and his growls of appreciation.

"You taste like sin," he mumbled against me, nipping my inner thigh then soothing it with kisses. "My sin."

"Thorne, Oh God, yes" I babbled, hips grinding against his face, chasing the edge. His free hand slithered to my ass, his thumb circling the tiny hole, a shocking intrusion that made me clench around his finger in my pussy. Then my orgasm hit like a thunderbolt, my walls spasming and gushing over his hand and mouth in hot spurts. He lapped at my juices greedily.

"Fuck you taste like an aphrodisiac"

He rose and freed his cock. Like I imagined, he was girthy, the head leaked with precum.

He gripped my hair, tilting my head back.

"Your turn, Sister." he rasped, feeding it past my lips, inch by inch. I gagged as the head hit my throat, my eyes watering. But I wanted more, I craved more. I hollowed my cheeks to suck, and used my tongue to trace the underside vein that pulsed wildly. He thrust deep, his balls tapping my chin.

Drool spilled from my mouth, mixing with precum. My throat convulsed around him in wet choking glurks that made him curse, "Fucking hell, your mouth is perfect, Sister. Take it, swallow me whole."

One hand braced the vine above my head, the other guided my rhythm, fucking my face with increasing ferocity, the slap of skin and my muffled gags filling the arbor.

I reached up, nails digging into his thigh, then lower, cupping his balls to rub gently, rolling them as they drew up tight. He swelled and groaned then he erupted, ropes of cum blasting down my throat. I gulped it all down, milking him with swallows until he shuddered and pulled out to paint my lips with the last spurts, his thumb smearing it across my mouth.

He helped me to his and father Elias's cell and cleaned me with a damp cloth.

"Rest here tonight," he whispered, curling behind me, arm draped possessively over my waist and his cock soft against my ass.

"Elias will join soon. You're ours now, Elara. No turning back."

Sleep came in fits, but even within my hazy thoughts, I imagined them both on me. In me.

Truly, I was theirs, body and soul.

Elara's POV

The night air in the shared cell was thick with the scent of sweat and cum. I lay on the narrow bed, eyes wide and open, and my body humming from where Thorne's hand rested on my waist, his cock nestling against the curve of my ass.

My pussy still fluttered faintly from the orgasm he had wrenched from me, and yet, sleep evaded me. I couldn't shut my eyes for a full minute, because I was anticipating what would happen when Elias finally got here.

The fire I'd come here to extinguish burned deeper. I shifted slightly, the rough wool of the blanket chafing my skin, and my nipples tightened into peaks.

I wasn't wearing my dress, Thorne had tugged it off while he was cleaning me. I lay stark naked on a priest's bed, imagining all the sins they could coax from my body.

Thorne stirred behind me, his breath hot on my neck, lips brushing the shell of my ear in a lazy kiss that made me shiver. "Can't sleep, little sinner?" He murmured, voice rough with sleep. His hand slid up to cup my breast, his thumb circling the nipple in slow teasing drags that pulled a soft whimper from my throat.

"Father Elias is not back yet," I admitted, my voice husky, arching back into his touch.

Deep down, my conscience nagged at me that this was not the reason why I'd come here, but these two priests had unravelled that intention thread by thread.

In one day, I'd had both their mouths on me, and yet it didn't feel like enough. And now this, sharing their bed like some spouse.

The door creaked open then, and my heartbeat skyrocketed. Father Elias stepped into the room, slightly dishevelled and his hair looked damp. His grey eyes locked on us immediately and darkened as they raked over my naked form, then to Thorne's hand that still clutched me possessively.

"Thorne," Elias said, voice low and gravelly. He crossed the room in three strides and rid himself of his habit and the rest of his undergarments. I couldn't help but stare at the hard planes of his body, his cock was already half hard. "You've started without me."

Thorne chuckled, his hands squeezing my breast harder, pinching the nipple until I gasped. "Couldn't wait, brother. Our lamb was too tempting to resist". He nuzzled my neck while his hand trailed down my belly and he dipped his fingers between my thighs to find the slick evidence of my earlier release and the fresh arousal there. I moaned and parted my legs instinctively. His finger circled my clit in lazy strokes that made my hips buck.

Elias's gaze followed the movement, his cock twitching fully to life now. The head of his cock flushed a deep purple as he palmed himself while his eyes never left mine. "Elara," he breathed, kneeling on the bed. His hands reached out, cupping my jaw, tilting my face up to meet his. "You owe me a release,"

The words hung in the air, but my body responded before my voice could. I arched into Thorne's touch and reached out my hand to wrap my fingers around Elias's shaft, stroking this length with a boldness that surprised me.

"Yes, and i'd be more than willing to repay now" I whispered.

Elias groaned and crushed his mouth to mine, claiming me like a desperate man. His mouth thrust past my lips, tangling with mine in a wet, sloppy dance while his hands roamed, one tangling in my hair while the other joined Thorne's between my legs. Four fingers now, teasing my folds. Two plunging inside while the remaining two stretched me wide. I cried out into Elias's mouth, my free hands digging in his shoulder and my nails digging into his skin.

Thorne didn't relent, his cock hardened against my ass, the thick length sliding between my cheeks. "That's it, Elara. Take us like the slut you are." He growled, nipping my earlobe.

Two fingers scissor inside me, curling to hit that spot that made my vision blur. I was a writhing mess under their ministrations, yet I wanted more.

My pussy clenched around their invading fingers, my clit throbbing under the pad of Thorne's thumb as he rubbed me in firm circles.

"More, I need more." I gasped, releasing Elias's cock to push at both their shoulders. They obeyed, withdrawing their hand with groans of protest. I mourned the loss of their fingers. But what I needed in that moment was their cocks, and I was shamelessly going to beg for every inch.

I rose to my knees, the blanket falling away and shoved Elias onto his back. He stared up at me with a mix of shock and lust, but his cock stood proud, leaking pre cum onto his abdomen.

Thorne watched from behind, stroking himself lazily as I straddled Elias's hips, grinding my slick fold along his length, coating him with my wetness.

"Fuck," Elias hissed, hands gripping my thighs hard enough to leave print marks, guiding me as I lifted, positioning his thick head at my entrance. I had planned to ease him into me inch by inch, but Elias wasn't on board with that plan. In one thrust, he breached me, stretching my walls as I choked on a sob. It felt like years since I last had a cock inside me, and this one was just perfect.

"So tight... like you were made for this dick." He muttered.

Thorne moved then and knelt behind me. My breath hitched when his hands spread my ass cheeks, he spat onto the tight hole. "Hold still, lamb," he commanded. His thumb circled the rim, pressing in slowly.

My thoughts were all over the place. How would this feel?

Would I enjoy it?

Would having two cocks in me at the same time hurt?

I clenched, my pussy fluttering around Elias who groaned and thrust up harder, hands kneading my breasts roughly.

Thorne's finger sank deeper, then it was two fingers, scissoring to stretch me, the burn morphing to pleasure.

I rocked between them, Elias's cock dragging along my walls with every movement, building the coil in my belly tighter.

Then Thorne withdrew his fingers and replaced them with the blunt head of his cock.

I stopped breathing for a moment as he pushed in slowly.

It burned, making me cry out. The stretch bordered on too much, but I pushed back, taking him, inch by inch until he was seated deep, balls pressed against Elias's where we were joined.

I felt impossibly full, the thin wall between them allowing me to feel every twitch and every pulse as they both stilled, their breathings ragged and bodies sweat slicked from the obvious effort of self restraint.

'"Fuck me," I demanded, voice breaking. Elias thrust up first while Thorne held still, then Thorne pulled back and thrust forward as Elias paused. They set a see-saw rhythm, their cocks alternating in my ass and pussy. The friction was insane, hitting every nerve and every spot that made pleasure spike in me. I rode them shamelessly, hands braced on Elias's chest, nails raking red trails down to his hip, my breath bouncing with each dual thrust and my nipples grazed his silver dusted chest.

"Fuck, Little Lamb. You're so fucking tight." Thorne grunted, one hand fisting my hair to arch my back, the other slapping my ass. Elias's hand went down to my clit, rubbing furious circles that had me babbling incoherently. "Yes, there, don't stop, oh God."

The orgasm hit without warning, crashing over me like a tidal wave, my walls spasming in rhythmic pulses that milked them both.

They didn't stop. Elias flipped us, somehow disentangling Thorne without pulling out fully, laying me down my side. He hooked my leg over his elbow then pounded into my pussy, like he was administering a punishment. The new angle let me grind against my g-spot with every snap of his hips.

Thorne spooned behind, re-entering my ass with a groan. His mouth came to my neck and bit down as he matched Elias's rhythm. The slap of flesh filled the cell mingling with their grunts. "Take it, Sister. Like our holy whore"

I had a mini orgasm then, my vision almost whitening out as I squirted around Elias, the hot gush splattering his abdomen.

"Elias.. Thorne.. Fuck.. mmhm," words failed me and reduced to sobs and whimpers.

Elias came first, burying deep with a roar, his cock pulsing and flooding my pussy with thick jets of cum that overflowed and leaked around him. Then Thorne's thrusts turned erratic, his hips slamming as he emptied into my ass, the warmth spreading like liquid fire.

We collapsed in a tangle, our breaths heaving and our bodies slick and spent.

Elias slipped free first, a wet gush following as his cum mixed with my juices on the sheets. He kissed me softly then, his tongue gentle as he licked into my mouth. "My ruin," he whispered, his gray eyes soft.

Thorne pulled out next, groaning at the loss, his hand soothed the ring with feather light circles before rolling me to face him. "We're not done yet, Lamb." He murmured, his hazel eyes shining with mischief.

Elias chuckled from behind, then pressed closer, his cock was already hardening and nestling between my thigh.

"The night is young, Little Lamb. Confess what you crave next."

I did, my voice trembling with renewed need.

I didn't know how long they could go before they became fully exhausted, and I didn't really care.

I was the object of their pleasures and I was going to savor every sinful drop.