The Nun's Vow To The Devil

CONTENT WARNING: 18+

This story contains dark themes including: sexual trafficking, dubious consent, drug use, BDSM, violence, religious trauma, abuse, and morally gray characters. The relationship begins with coercion and power imbalance.

Reader discretion advised.

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Father was going to kill me if he found out that I had snuck out to kiss a boy on a public bridge.

I knew I shouldn't be doing this, but I have had a crush on him the longest. I wanted this feeling.

It felt so good the way his hands pulled me closer against him. His hard dick pushed hard against my lower belly.

I gulped, moaning in pleasure as his tongue dragged hot against my neck and I tilted my head back without thinking, a small sound leaving me before I could stop it.

The night was cold, but every place he touched me burned hot.

Julien's breath spilled against my ear, his hands running down my spine grabbing my butt and then his mouth was at my collarbone, teeth grazing, tongue smoothing over the sting.

My knees wanted to give out, but his hand was already under my sweater, finding the thin cotton camisole that clung to my skin.

I gasped when his fingers pinched my nipple through the fabric, sharp enough to make me whimper. He did it again, rolling the peak between rough fingertips until it tightened under his touch, and I pressed into him shamelessly, aching for more.

I bit my lips hard, eyes rolling up, my arms clinging to his neck, wanting to grind my aching spot against the hardness in his jeans.

"Julien..." My voice shook as his mouth closed over mine again, hard, greedy, his tongue pushing past my lips like he wanted to taste every part of me at once.

I opened for him, answering kiss for kiss, the scrape of teeth, the mess of breath. My hands clutched at his hoodie, dragging him closer, desperate for his weight against me.

His palm slid down, cupping me over my skirt, the pressure heavy enough that I moaned into his mouth.

He broke away just long enough to bite down on my lower lip, tugging until my eyes fluttered open, then shoved his hand higher again, back to my chest, squeezing my breasts like he owned them.

I couldn't breathe right.

Each twist of his fingers through the camisole shot heat straight down between my legs, my thighs pressing together as if that could relieve the ache of my pussy.

He knew what he was doing-his grin brushed my mouth before he ducked lower, sucking the swell of my breast through both layers of fabric, teeth scraping over the peak until I cried out.

The stone of the bridge was cold against my back, but I barely felt it.

All I knew was his mouth, his tongue dragging up my throat, lips crashing against mine again, his hand kneading my breast greedily.

My hips rocked forward without my permission, chasing friction that wasn't there,