I slammed my fist against the rectory door until my knuckles bled. Behind me, my wrecked car was burning white in the snow. Somewhere down the mountain, my husband was coming for me. The man who opened the door wore a priest's collar and looked at me like a sin he'd already decided to commit. Father Mateo Cole. Broad shoulders. Rough hands. A voice that made me wet before I even knew his name. I only wanted a phone and a fire. Then the storm buried the road, and the mountain locked us in together for eleven nights. By night three, I was on my knees taking a holy cock deep inside my throat, allowing his white juice slide down my throat, begging a priest to break his vows. By night five, he stopped saying no. He pinned me against the cold stone wall, ripped my engagement ring off, and shoved my thighs apart with his knee. "Say it, Cora. Say what you want from me." I want you. I said every dirty thing I'd been thinking and dreaming of. His mouth was on my throat, his 7 inch monster cock was buried deep inside my tight wet pussy, while his fingers were throbbing my cunt. He groaned against my skin like a man finally getting what he'd starved for. I cummed so hard I screamed his name loud enough for heaven to hear. He didn't stop. He fucked me on the confessional bench, on the altar steps, and on the floor in front of the fire making me beg for more. But Father Mateo has a secret. He is supposed to be dead. Before the collar, he was the mafia's deadliest enforcer, a man who killed without blinking. Now the husband I ran from has found us. And the only way to keep me is for the priest to become the monster again