Chapter 1: The Test of Sin
Angel stood at the threshold of the dimly lit room in the convent, her heart thundering beneath her modest habit. Three months of prayer and penance had led to this moment—her final test before taking her vows as a nun. But the sight before her threatened to unravel every ounce of resolve she’d built. Her father, Richard, sat on the edge of a wooden chair, his rugged frame relaxed, and his thick cock already out, bold and unapologetic, as if daring her to resist.
“Well, damn, Angel,” Richard drawled, his voice a low, gravelly tease as his eyes raked over her. “You look like a saint, but I bet that fire in you still burns hotter than hell. Come to save my soul, or you gonna fall with me again?”
Angel’s breath hitched, her fingers tightening on the rosary at her waist. She forced her gaze upward, away from the mesmerizing sight of his hardness, but her body betrayed her with a shiver of raw, forbidden want. “I’m here to prove I’m stronger than this… than us,” she snapped, her voice sharp but trembling at the edges. “Put that thing away before I forget why I’m wearing this habit.”
Richard chuckled, a dark, knowing sound, as he leaned back, making no move to cover himself. “Oh, sweetheart, you can’t unsee what you’ve already tasted. Three months ain’t enough to scrub me outta your blood. Why don’t you come closer? Just a little touch. For old time’s sake.”
Her feet moved before her mind could stop them, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. She stopped just inches away, her eyes dropping again to his cock, hard and pulsing with a life of its own. “This is wrong,” she hissed, even as her hand reached out, fingers brushing against the heated skin. The contact sent a jolt through her, and she bit her lip hard to stifle a moan. “I’m supposed to be pure now, Daddy. Not your little plaything.”
“Pure?” Richard snorted, his hand catching her wrist, guiding her grip tighter around him. “Baby girl, you were born to sin with me. Feel that? That’s your truth, not some convent bullshit. Stroke it like you mean it.”
Angel’s resolve crumbled as her hand moved on its own, stroking him with a rhythm she hadn’t forgotten. Her pussy clenched with need, a familiar ache spreading through her core. “I hate how much I want this,” she spat, her voice dripping with defiance even as her body surrendered. “You’re a bastard for making me feel this way, Daddy. But fuck, I can’t stop.”
“Then don’t,” he growled, his free hand reaching up to tug at the edge of her habit, exposing the creamy swell of her bust. “You’re my girl, Angel. Always will be. Now, get on your knees and show Daddy how much you’ve missed this cock.”
Her knees hit the cold stone floor before she could argue, her mouth watering as she leaned in, the scent of him flooding her senses. She was lost, and she knew it. But as her lips hovered just above him, ready to take him in, she looked up with a wicked glint in her eye. “You think you’ve won, don’t you? But I’m gonna make you beg for mercy before I’m done with you, Daddy.”
The air between them crackled with tension, her words a promise of the explosive storm to come, as her mouth finally descended, ready to unleash every pent-up desire she’d tried so hard to bury.
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