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“Someone who doesn’t want to be found,” she says quietly. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Why not? I told you about my past.”

“Not everything,” she says as she glances up at me.

She’s right—not everything. If I were to badger her anymore, she would make me confess my darkest sins.

I drop the subject. It’s probably cruel to keep making her talk while she’s gagged with a chain anyway.

I keep the cloth moving as I wash her everywhere, being extra gentle over her breasts, between her legs. It’s impossible not to excite her, not to provoke her sexual appetite. I make her come without even meaning to, and there are no prayers I can say that will keep my cock down, that will keep my mind from sinking into the mire of depravity.

By the time I’m done bathing her, I decide to revel in it.

I pick her up out of the bath, wet and naked, and lie her down on the pew.

“I’m going to feed from you,” I tell her. “And you’re going to let me take my fill.”

Her eyes widen with anticipation. “Will you make it hurt?” she asks.

“I can try not to, but I won’t make any promises.”

“I’m asking you to.” She gives me a wry smile. “Make it hurt.”

Her plea makes my balls rise, my cock already viciously, painfully hard.

“Alright,” I tell her, about to open the flap on my trousers.

“I have another request,” she says quickly, and I stare at her to go on. “I want to see you naked.”

I pause, my hand down my pants, fisting my cock. “Naked?”

“I’ve never seen a man completely nude,” she says. “Not in a sexual way. Please. You’re always clothed, and I’m always…not. It’s only fair, isn’t it?”

“If things were fair in your world, you wouldn’t be my captive, would you?” I point out, but I decide to indulge her regardless. I take off my shirt, my pants, until I’m in the nude, the only thing left on my body the rosary around my neck. I know my body is strong, built to perfection. Being an immortal with preternatural strength means that everything is in peak physical condition, from my arms to my abdomen to my cock.

And from the way she bites her lips, the fresh smell of her arousal in the air, I know she more than likes what she sees.

My little fish is hungry.

I put my hands on her clavicles and shove her until she’s lying back on the pew, and then I take her legs and raise them as straight as they will go, standing between them. Her cunt is completely bare and open to me, and I have the most sinful view of it.

I waste no time unleashing the heathen inside me.

I position my cock at her cunt, teasing for a few seconds with just the tip, barely pushing in until she starts squirming, rubbing her cunt, wet and slick, against me.

Then I give her what she wants, wedging my cock inside her as deep as it will go. It’s a tight fit from this angle, but the more I jam it in, the more I feel her stretch around me. My eyes roll back in my head, my body trembling already.

“God,” she cries out against the chain.

I pretend she’s calling to me, that I’m her god.

I groan at the thought as my balls pull toward my body, tight as fists.

But what god would have a woman with her hands tied behind her back and a metal chain in her mouth? What god would hold such a woman captive so he could fuck her and feast on her?

I guess that makes me the Devil.

I push in to the hilt, my balls pressed against her ass and thighs, and stare down at the sight. She looks like she’s being impaled, my cock thick inside her wet, pink skin.