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fresh poison each week

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"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” Esme’s quiet but never weak voice echoed in the empty sanctuary as she made the sign of the cross over her body. "It's been... oh, a week since I last confessed. You remember, though. Don't you?"

Carlisle smiled fondly at her. She was so hard to forget. "I do remember. It was six days ago, but a week is close enough."

She looked up at him through her lashes. The moonlight streamed through the stained glass windows and reflected off her perfectly pale skin, which would have been distraction enough even if she wasn’t kneeling so close in front of him. The scene would have been painfully suggestive, had she not been kneeling on the steps to the altar. He shook his head slightly as if to rid the thoughts.

"Thank you, Father," she said, her voice as sweet as it always was. "It's been six days, and so much has happened. I am a married woman, but I have felt lust for another man. Charles is... unsatisfactory. Every time I see this other man, I think about what he could do instead. Everything about him tempts me, and I don't know what to do. This is all I can remember, I am sorry for this and all other sins."

He shook his head in mock disapproval. “Oh, Esme. How many times have you confessed this same sin to me?"

She blushed. "Once a week for as long as you've been here, Father. Since a few months ago. I confess and confess, but my sin hasn't been taken away. It gets worse every time."

That was true. All the members of Carlisle’s little flock had their various issues, but only Esme came to visit him so often for one reason. The only problem was that having a beautiful woman confess her wants was wearing away at his priestly resolve. When he chose to forsake the vampiric lifestyle and become a vegetarian, he thought that joining the clergy would make it easier. Surely religious devotion could see him through that and any other temptations. And while the new diet had indeed been working, he found himself wishing that he hadn’t taken those silly vows of purity. The woman needed release, for Christ’s sake, why did he vow not to help her?

But still, he was her priest, and she needed his counsel. Carlisle's hand gently lifted her chin, making her meet his eyes. "Why, child?"

Esme licked her lips, and for the first time he noticed that she had painted them a bright red. "Maybe... Maybe my penance hasn't been enough," she said breathily.

He reran the familiar equations in his head. He knew that she wanted him. He had seen it in her eyes, smelt it between her legs. It was impossible for him not to notice the woman’s arousal, especially not now that she’d become less and less inclined to hide it. Her posture and her words and her apparel all showed how desperate she was, or possibly how hopeful she was that she would succeed this time.

And if she was so willing, was there any harm in giving her what she wanted? He was damned regardless, and he knew it better than anyone, but would such a sin really stain her any further? Her constant desire was sin enough already, and what was one more sin added to months of others?

He should have said no. A voice in the back of his mind screamed that he should run away, but a much more persuasive voice told him to embrace the moment. Given the way Esme was currently staring so fixedly at his cassock, he chose to listen to the latter.

He shook his head. "You've done everything right. Everything I've asked you to do, you've done perfectly and fully. I think the only recourse is to make your penance more... personalized. Hailing Mary will only get you so far,” he said, pulling a possible excuse out of thin air. He was proud of that one.

"What did you have in mind, Father Cullen?" she asked, looking up at him with eyes so trusting he almost faltered.

"A weed cannot be killed unless it is uprooted," he said evenly. "Perhaps your sin can't be removed unless the source is taken care of. If the source is unsatifaction, maybe you should find this man, commit the sin, and then fully repent. God will forgive you."

Her pale hand, the one she used to cross herself only a moment ago, reached out to trace the outline of his arousal. "What about my husband?" she asked. 

Of course. That would be her worry, telling her husband that she had committed adultery with a priest. But her hand was tracing little patterns through his cassock, causing tingles of pleasures to dance over him. Any excuse would do, as long as she didn’t stop.

His breath caught in his throat, but he somehow managed to speak. "He doesn't have to know. It would drive him to the sin of wrath and envy, and if you repent, you will be free in the eyes of God. What do the eyes of man have to do with anything? Confess your sins, Esme. Every detail of your lust, speak it now and let it go. Show me what you want."

His first moan broke through when she kissed his erection through the fabric of the cassock.  “This,” she said, brushing her lips, her nose, her cheek over him again. “Please, Father Cullen. Just let me see you, then I can go.”

If Carlisle still had blood, it would be roaring in his ears right now. It was true, he had lusted over her as well. How could he not? Every night in the confines of his rectory, he remembered everything he could about her body, her hair, her soft eyes and her surely softer lips, and chased his own pleasure. None of his ideas had ever compared to this, and they had all led to much more guilt. This was affection freely offered, and it was affection he would be stupid not to accept.

Carlisle ripped off the cassock. He should have held back, unbuttoned like a normal human, but he didn’t have the patience to wait. Esme, however, only giggled in response and began to take off his belt. 

“Good girl,” he whispered unthinkingly as his hand found her hair. She whimpered pitifully, and in an instant his pants were on the floor and his cock was in her mouth. 

A broken moan ripped out of him. It had been so long, so painfully long since he had felt anything like this. And seeing Esme, the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen in all his years, staring up at him with that much lust as she rolled her tongue along the underside of his erection, just made it better. 

As absorbed as he was in the pleasure, a small but nonetheless important fragment of his mind was transfixed by the simple beauty and possibility of it all. Yes, she was amazingly good with her mouth and he didn’t want to think of where she learned the skill, but that wasn’t the point. Her beautiful brown eyes somehow both absorbed and reflected the pale moonlight, turning them some strange dark gold. It was eerily similar to his own eyes, and for a moment he could almost pretend that she was like him, that she was a vampire too. Then this beauty would never fade. Her caramel hair would never gray, her rosy cheeks would never sag, and her perfect body would stay exactly as it was. The thought rose so unbidden, but he didn’t seem to mind. Esme would have made a fantastic vampire. 

His fist stayed still in her hair. She wasn’t a vampire, so making her go as fast as he wanted her to probably wasn’t physically possible. But it didn’t matter, her warm, wet mouth was still enough on its own. Her ruby red lips wrapped around him tightly and pulled him in deeper, deeper until he was all the way in her throat. She moaned happily around him, the corners of her mouth turning up into a smile as she stroked him with her tongue. 

“Oh, Es,” he groaned while he tried not to buck his hips and break her jaw.. “I’m not gonna last. God, you’re so good for me, I’m gonna come.”

Her brow knitted in concentration and she gave another hard suck. Then do it, she seemed to say, and Carlisle wasn’t inclined to deny her. Both of his hands tangled in her hair, and he came harder than he ever had before. Esme laughed around him and kept sucking, not relenting until she had swallowed every bit of his release. 

When she finally dropped him from her mouth, he watched her hand creep under the hem of her dress. He fell down to his knees and stilled her hand with his. “No, my love,” he said. “I told you to find pleasure with the man you lust over. If anyone is getting you off tonight, it’s going to be me.”

Her brow creased again, this time in confusion. “Father Cullen, I—”

“Carlisle,” he corrected quickly.

“Carlisle. Do you really want me that way? And… do you really think I’m your love?”

Damn. He didn’t realize he’d said that part out loud. The weight of his actions began pressing down on him. Letting a married woman service him? And under the guise of repentance as well? 

“I’m sorry, Es,” he said honestly, with more emotion than he would have liked. “I know I’m a priest and you’re married, but… I can’t help it. Somewhere along the way I fell in love with you. I shouldn’t have used this to seduce you, I’m sorry.”

“You love me,” she repeated quietly.

“Against all better judgement.”

Then Esme leaned forward and carefully, hesitantly, kissed him. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she did it again before he could react, taking advantage of his shocked gasp and pushing her tongue into his mouth. After a very intense moment, she pulled away and leaned her forehead against his. “I love you too,” she whispered. “Please, don’t make me go back to Charles. I want to be yours instead.”

Carlisle groaned again and kissed her. He should have said something to her, but he didn’t know how to find the words to show her how much he was feeling. She loved him. With any other woman, in any other circumstance, he would have known it for a lie. No one could love him, not the monster that he was. But while Esme didn’t know what he was, exactly, she still knew him better than anyone else. She talked to him, confided in him, confessed to him. She knew the kind of man he was, and still she chose to kiss him and love him and pleasure him so well. He had to keep her. 

He picked her up suddenly, scooping her in one arm and turning to roughly deposit her on the altar. He tore off his shirt as he had his cassock, but took his time unbuttoning her dress. He kissed her with each button that popped off, trailing down until he was kneeling in front of her. Carlisle took a second to just look at her, drinking in every detail. She was so pretty. Her vulva was flushed just like her face, and he could see her muscles flutter with every soft gasp he heard from her pretty mouth. That familiar scent of arousal still flooded his senses, but now he could actually see the shimmer coating her skin.

“Next time,” he promised as he stood back up. “I swear I’ll kiss you and lick you until you scream my name for hours. But please, Es, let me fuck you. I need you.”

She nodded eagerly and pulled him closer, kissing him again. This time he could feel her bare breasts against his chest, and he nearly came again. “Please, Carlisle. Let me… let me absolve my sin.”

He smirked slightly. Oh, she was an evil little thing. Pity she was still human. “Absolution is what you want? Then don’t worry, my love, I can grant that much.”

Carlisle stroked himself for a moment, then lined up with her and slowly entered. Every inch of her was as perfect as he had dreamed. Even more perfect were her sighs, not merely of pleasure but of actual happiness. He was sure that he heard a few murmured I love you’s right next to the Fuck, that’s big’s. Both were perfectly acceptable to him.

Once they both adjusted to the feeling, he began to thrust, keeping a slow but steady pace to best build up her orgasm. He watched her breasts bounce softly with the movement, watched her back arch as she moaned. Unable to resist such a primal urge, he leaned in and sank his teeth into her neck.

He didn’t bite her, of course. He wouldn’t change an unwilling person, no matter how good they felt wrapped around his dick. He had morals, morals he wouldn’t change without explicit consent. Still, he could pretend. He imagined truly biting her, and hoped that her breathy gasps would be the same if he turned her. Some vampires did report pleasure from their transformation, and that was exactly what he hoped to give Esme, now and for the rest of his life. 

But now, he could feel how close she was. Her hips sloppily rose to meet his, her walls clenched tight around him, and her breath turned ragged. She was ready, but he wasn’t done yet. Not until she was absolved. 

“You have committed the sin, my love,” he gritted out. “Are you ready to confess?”

She nodded and whined, probably a yes.

“What sin have you done, Esme?”

“I… I let a man fuck me. Not my husband.”

Another thrust, another kiss, a firm pressure on her clit. “Who? Say my name.”

“Carlisle!”

He smirked and kissed her neck. “Good girl. Now, repent. Pray for me, then you can come.”

She looked at him for a second, then shut her eyes and recited the prayer as well as she could. “My… my God, I am sorry for my sins with all my heart. In choosing to do wrong—fuck, Carlisle, please—and failing to... do good, I have sinned against you whom I should love above all things. Please, faster, right there. I firm… I firmly intend, with your help, to do penance, to sin no more,

and to avoid whatever leads me to sin. But not Carlisle, fuck, this is too good. Our Savior Jesus Christ suffered and died for us. In his name, my God, have… have…  Mercy!“

Such a dutiful girl. Right when she screamed the last word of the prayer, she came magnificently. He felt every muscle squeeze around him as she clung onto him, her legs shaking too hard to support herself. Although he had planned to last longer, hoped to draw this out, even with his vampiric strength Carlisle couldn’t resist. He finished right after her, then collapsed against the altar with her in his arms.

He laughed and kissed the tip of her nose, brushing a stray hair from her forehead so he could see her better. She was so beautiful after she’d been fucked. “God, I love you, Es. I meant everything I said.”

“Me too,” she sighed. “I wish we could just… run away and get married.”

He paused to consider. After all, why not? Surely it would be worse to leave her with that horrible man. He would be practically saving her life, that wasn’t selfish.

“You should stay the night with me,” he said finally. “Don’t go back to Charles tonight, it’s dangerous to walk alone. Who knows who might… soil your virtue in the night?”

She rolled her eyes. “We know. That’s who knows who could soil me.”

He shot her a playful glare, unable to keep from smiling. She had a sense of humor, it was a good sign that her sarcasm was coming out to play. “Well, yes, but still, if you stay tonight, we can… discuss plans in the morning. Plans to leave this place behind.

She sat up suddenly and stared at him. “Really?”

“Really, he nodded. “I don’t want to lose you, Esme, especially not to him.”

As they kissed happily one more time and got dressed to leave, Carlisle looked over his shoulder at the figure of the crucified Christ hanging on the sanctuary wall. He should have felt guilty. Defiling a church like this, committing sin and then using prayers for sex was wrong and surely of the devil. His father would have hated him even more for such a thing. But now, Carlisle had an angel by his side, an angel who wanted to stay.

Demons be damned. He could find his own happiness in the world, and he had now found exactly that in Esme.