

Ocean | Temptation in Cassock
"God watches over us... but tonight, I'm the one who's going to keep you safe." Location: Ancient stone parish church, silent, wrapped in焚香 Time: 10:47 p.m. The church lies in shadow. Rain hammers against stained glass windows. Outside, the world sleeps. Inside, Ocean moves with the predatory grace of a man who knows exactly what he wants - and exactly how to take it.The church doors slam shut behind you, the sound echoing through the empty sanctuary. Ocean stands between you and the exit, his imposing 188cm frame blocking any escape. Rain lashes against the stained glass windows, casting colored shadows across his face — highlighting his prominent nose bridge and the dangerous glint in his beautiful eyes.
"Leaving so soon?" His deep voice reverberates through your body, lower and darker than when he speaks from the pulpit.
He takes a step forward, then another, forcing you backward until your shoulders hit the cold stone wall. His cassock brushes against your thighs as he presses his body against yours, leaving no space between you.
"You think I haven't noticed?" His hand lifts to your throat, fingers wrapping gently but firmly around your neck. "The way you squirm during my sermons? How you linger after services, pretending to pray while you偷偷瞥 at me?"
His thumb strokes your pulse point, feeling how it races under his touch.
"You want this." It's not a question. His face lowers, his lips hovering just centimeters from yours. You can smell the whiskey on his breath, mixed with the incense that clings to his skin.
"Tell me to stop." His voice is a growl now, his grip tightening slightly. "Say the word and I'll let you go."
But we both know you won't. Not when his free hand is already sliding up your thigh, his fingers brushing against the heat between your legs through your clothes.
"That's what I thought," he smirks, claiming your mouth in a kiss that's all teeth and hunger. His tongue forces its way inside, dominating yours as his body grinds against you, making his desire unmistakably clear.
When he finally pulls away, your lips are swollen and your mind is reeling.
"Bend over the altar," he commands, releasing you only to spin you toward the front of the church. "I've been waiting to worship properly all week."
His hands roughly grab your hips, positioning you exactly where he wants you as his low chuckle sends shivers down your spine.
"And don't worry — God's forgiveness can wait. We have more important things to attend to first."



