Desires & Heresy

The morning light spilled through the stained glass, casting soft hues across the stone walls.

Zane lay in bed, the warmth of Celeste's body pressed against his. She stirred, shifting under the sheets, her bare skin brushing against his own.

A soft hum escaped her lips as she nuzzled against him, her silver hair tousled, her breathing slow and content.

His fingers trailed down her back, tracing the dip of her spine. She shivered, but instead of resisting, she arched into his touch.

Celeste was his now. Entirely.

She blinked up at him, her blue eyes still heavy with sleep. "Mm… Father Elias," she murmured.

Zane smirked, his grip tightening around her waist. "You're still calling me that?"

Her cheeks flushed, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she tilted her chin up, brushing her lips against his—tentative at first, then lingering.

Zane let her control it, just for a moment. Soft, warm—then wetter as she melted into him, lips parting slightly.

That was all he needed.

He rolled her onto her back, his weight settling over her as he captured her mouth fully.

It was nothing like before.

No hesitation, no restraint—only heat, only need.

Celeste moaned into the kiss as Zane's tongue slipped past her lips, claiming, devouring. He didn't tease. Didn't hold back. He drank in her taste, deepening the kiss until she had no choice but to follow him, to match his intensity.

She did. Messily. Desperately.

Her fingers tangled in his hair, nails digging in as she pressed closer, her body arching beneath him. Their lips parted, then met again, wetter this time, slick with shared saliva.

Celeste gasped as he pulled away for air, only for him to claim her again, swallowing the sound.

Her breath hitched. She was trembling beneath him, but it wasn't from uncertainty.

She was enjoying this. Losing herself in it.

And Zane?

He smirked against her lips, knowing she was already aching for more.

The prayers that morning were slow and agonizing.

Celeste sat across from him, hands folded, lips moving in silent devotion. But her gaze betrayed her. Every now and then, her eyes would flicker to him—brief, hesitant glances, filled with something far more sinful than prayer.

And Zane noticed.

The way her thighs pressed together beneath her robes. The way she bit her lip when he let his fingers trail idly along the table's edge.

A game.

One they both enjoyed.

The day passed in a blur of whispered looks and lingering touches.

And by evening, Zane was restless.

Celeste was his. That much was certain.

But there was another who intrigued him tonight.

Beatrice.

The halls were empty when he found her.

Beatrice sat alone near the back of the study, bathed in candlelight. Her gaze was distant, lost in thought, her lips slightly parted as if she had been about to sigh.

Zane's eyes trailed lower, taking in the way her robes draped over her body—not enough to hide the fullness of her curves, the way the fabric pulled across her heavy chest, or how it gathered slightly at her wide hips.

She looked… lonely.

And Zane never let loneliness go to waste.

He smirked, approaching with slow, deliberate steps. "A quiet night, isn't it?"

Beatrice barely glanced at him, her lips twitching in the faintest hint of amusement. "You say that as if silence is something unusual here."

Zane slid into the seat beside her, his arm resting lazily along the back of the bench. "For most, perhaps. But you? You seem deep in thought."

She exhaled, shaking her head. "Just tired."

"Tired?" His voice dipped slightly, teasing. "You should rest then. Unless… you'd rather have company."

Beatrice turned to him, arching a brow. "That sounds dangerously close to flirting, Elias."

He shrugged. "Would it be so terrible if I was?"

She huffed a soft laugh. "I'm far too old for games like that."

But she didn't move away.

Zane leaned in slightly, letting the warmth of his presence settle over her. Close enough for her to feel it. Close enough to see the faint rise and fall of her chest, the way her breathing had subtly changed.

"You say that," he murmured, "but I wonder… when was the last time someone truly looked at you, Beatrice?"

She stilled.

A flicker of something crossed her expression—gone in an instant.

[Insight (Lv. 1) (Activated)]

A pulse of emotion struck him.

Loneliness. A deep, aching kind. One she never spoke of, never showed.

Zane smirked. Found it.

He lifted a hand, brushing a strand of hair from her face. A bold touch—far more intimate than before.

Beatrice's breath hitched, but she didn't pull away.

She swallowed, her voice quieter. "You're playing a dangerous game."

Zane leaned in, his lips inches from her ear. "And yet… you haven't stopped me."

She exhaled shakily.

That was all the confirmation he needed.

His fingers trailed lower, brushing the fabric over her chest.

Beatrice stiffened—but not in rejection.

He was slow, deliberate, letting the moment stretch. Giving her a chance to stop him.

She didn't.

Zane's palm cupped the weight of her breast through the robes—full, firm, heavy. His thumb dragged over where her nipple had already hardened beneath the fabric.

Beatrice shuddered, her eyes fluttering shut. "Zane…"

A warning? A plea?

He didn't care.

[Gentle Persuasion (Activated)]

A shaky breath left her lips, her body relaxing all at once.

Her hesitation melted.

Zane smirked, rolling her nipple between his fingers. A sharp gasp escaped her, her back pressing into the seat.

Her thighs shifted slightly.

Zane pushed further.

His free hand slid beneath her robes, fingers pressing against the warmth between her legs. Even through the fabric, he could feel it—heat, dampness, need.

Beatrice tensed, but this time, it was pure anticipation.

She should stop him. She should tell him no.

But instead—

She parted her legs slightly, just enough for him to slip his fingers against her more firmly.

[Ecstasy's Embrace (Activated)]

A sharp inhale. Then—her body shuddered.

Her fingers clutched at the wooden bench, her breath coming in uneven pants as waves of pleasure coiled through her.

Zane pressed his lips to her neck, his voice smooth. "You've been lonely, haven't you?"

Her breath shuddered out of her.

"Y-Yes."

Honest.

Admitting it—finally letting herself fall.

Zane chuckled, letting his fingers tease her deeper, drawing out every reaction, every sound.

Then, lips brushing her ear—

"Then let me fix that."