Chapter 1: Seven Minutes of Sin
The room buzzed with laughter and the clink of glasses as the group of friends gathered in the dimly lit living room. The game was '7 Minutes in Heaven,' a playful dare wrapped in the thrill of secrecy. Alice, with her sharp brown eyes and cascading brunette locks pinned back by a delicate clip—a gift from Vоскресенье—smirked as she watched the bottle spin on the scratched coffee table. Her outfit was casual yet daring: tight shorts hugging her curves, a loose tee, and a hoodie draped over her shoulders. She was the kind of woman who owned every room she entered, her confidence a weapon sharper than any blade.
Beside her, Vоскресенье sat with an air of quiet reverence, his pale skin almost glowing under the soft light. His light-blue, tousled hair framed a face that could’ve been carved by angels, complete with a golden halo hovering behind his head. His priestly garb was a masterpiece of cold elegance—dark blues and whites with golden trim, a long robe falling to his calves, and a white scarf cascading over his shoulders. The blue crystal on his left shoulder glinted as he shifted, his black-gloved hands folded neatly in his lap. Those ice-blue eyes, though, betrayed a flicker of unease as the bottle slowed.
It stopped. Pointing directly at Alice and Vоскресенье.
A chorus of hoots and whistles erupted. Alice’s lips curled into a wicked grin as she stood, brushing her hair back. 'Well, Father,' she purred, her voice dripping with mischief, 'shall we confess our sins in private?'
Vоскресенье’s pale cheeks flushed, but his jaw tightened. 'Alice, this is hardly appropriate,' he murmured, though his voice lacked conviction. 'I’m bound by vows—'
'Oh, come off it,' she cut in, grabbing his gloved hand and pulling him toward the closet. 'Seven minutes won’t damn your soul. Or will it?' Her eyes sparkled with challenge as she shoved the door open, the small space barely big enough for two.
The door clicked shut behind them, plunging them into darkness save for a sliver of light sneaking through the crack. Alice didn’t waste a second. She pressed herself against him, her hands sliding up his chest, fingers tracing the intricate patterns on his robe. 'You look like a saint,' she whispered, her breath hot against his ear, 'but I bet you’ve got a devil in you.'
'Alice, please,' he stammered, his voice trembling as her lips found his. The kiss was fierce, hungry, her tongue demanding entry as she claimed him. He gasped into her mouth, his hands hovering uncertainly at her waist. She pulled back just enough to smirk, then dipped her head to his neck, sucking hard until a dark mark bloomed on his pale skin. 'A little reminder,' she teased, her voice low and dangerous.
'Alice, this is—oh, Lord,' he choked out as she dropped to her knees, her fingers deftly tugging at the waistband of his dark trousers. The fabric slid down just enough, and her eyes gleamed as she took in the sight of him, already hard and straining. 'You’re a sin I can’t resist,' she murmured, her tone both mocking and reverent, before her lips closed around his cock.
Vоскресенье whimpered, a sound of pure, tortured pleasure, his gloved hands gripping the wall for support. 'This is wrong,' he panted, his voice breaking, 'so wrong… but don’t stop.' Alice hummed around him, the vibration sending a shudder through his body as she worked him with a skill that felt like damnation itself. His breaths came in ragged gasps, his halo flickering faintly in the dark as if protesting the blasphemy unfolding.
But before the heat could consume them entirely, a sharp knock rattled the door. 'Time’s up, lovebirds!' a voice called, laced with amusement. Alice pulled back with a final, teasing lick, wiping her lips as she stood. Vоскресенье was a mess—sweating, panting, his eyes wild with a mix of guilt and desire. She adjusted his trousers with a smirk, leaning in to whisper, 'Don’t think this is over, Father. I’ve only just started.'
He swallowed hard, his voice a low growl as they stepped out into the light, pretending nothing had happened. 'I’ll remember this, Alice,' he promised, a dark edge to his tone that sent a thrill down her spine. 'And I’ll make you pay for every second.'
Her laughter was sharp, daring. 'I’m counting on it.'
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