4.3

Click. 

The sound of the confessional door locking echoed heavily. Seeing the dark expression on his face, Helena held her breath.  

“What are you doing? Untie this now. I’ll scream.”  

“…The confessional is soundproof. No one will hear you.”  

Isaac placed Helena on the small shelf beneath the confessional window and began unbuttoning his priest’s robe, one button at a time.  

In that fleeting moment, she hesitated. 

Should I use this as an opportunity to capture his heart, or should I use my strength to escape? 

Her rationality told her to embrace him willingly, but her heart wanted to run away. The memory of his regretful face after their kiss kept stabbing at her.  

“…You’ll regret this, Isaac.”  

“If you tell me it wasn’t a lie, I’ll let you go.”  

When he had asked her to abandon the Goddess and come to him, he hadn’t been able to say anything. So why was he acting like this now? Helena let out a short sigh and sneered at him.  

If he had told her back then that he loved her, Helena wouldn’t have fallen for him. If that had been the case, at least she wouldn’t be feeling this sorrow now. How was she supposed to endure the death of someone she loved again? On top of that, if she lost the wager, she would have to live as Dennis’s mate for the rest of her life.  

That’s why Helena couldn’t allow herself to love him.  

“What isn’t a lie?”  

“The part where you said loving me was a lie.”  

He hadn’t even been named directly, yet Isaac was so certain it was about him. Helena frowned and pointed out his behavior.  

“Is a priest allowed to speak of what was confessed in the confessional?”  

“You didn’t say that it was about me.”  

‘…Damn it.’  

Helena cursed herself again for her foolishness. If she were going to criticize him, she should have pointed out that part instead.  

Isaac smiled brightly, his expression contrasting with the desire in his eyes, and spoke.  

“The merciful Goddess forgives those who believe in her and washes away the sins spoken from their lips.”  

With a soft, low voice, he recited a prayer, his lips brushing lightly against the corner of Helena’s mouth before pulling away.  

“The servant of the Goddess also forgives your sins in her name. May light guide you instead of darkness.”  

The priestly robe, which had fallen with a soft thud as the confession ended, rolled across the floor of the confessional. His lips, which she thought would simply fall away, descended onto her forehead, the tip of her nose, both cheeks, and finally her lips. A hot tongue parted Helena’s lips, invading her mouth. Without causing pain, she bit down on the tongue that was freely exploring her inner mouth.

The sound of their mingling tongues echoed in the confined space. The sweet scent tickled her nose, igniting a thirst within her. Overwhelmed by the impulse to merge bodies with him and sink her fangs into the thick veins protruding from his neck, Helena unconsciously filled the confessional with pheromones. As the scent of roses in full bloom spread completely, Isaac’s precarious rationality snapped.

“Mm-.”

As his rough hands grasped her chest fully, Helena let out a moan through her parted lips. Displeased by the clothing that interfered with the soft sensation of her chest, Isaac pulled back his lips and unfastened her top. When her milky-white br*asts were revealed, he resumed kissing her while kneading the tender flesh.

“Ha, uh.”

Though the sounds inside the confessional shouldn’t be audible outside, Isaac devoured her lips, ensuring not even a single syllable of her moans escaped. Simultaneously, his large hands alternated between squeezing and releasing her chest. As his touch teasingly grazed the peaks of her br*asts, Helena’s body heated up, and she pressed her thighs together.

Noticing her movements in the cramped space, Isaac withdrew his hand from her chest and lifted her skirt. While nibbling on her lips, his hand stroked her cold, soft thighs.

“Ah, I… Isaac.”

Barely managing to call his name through her lips, Helena spread her legs wantonly. Isaac stepped back slightly, his gaze fixed on the white undergarments covering her intimate area. The fabric was visibly soaked in the center, revealing a wet patch. When his long, thick fingers rubbed against it, Helena let out a faint moan.

“Ahh.”

Not wanting even that brief sound to be heard by others, he lifted her skirt and placed it in her mouth.

“Hold this.”

Having already lost control of his reason, Isaac could no longer restrain himself. Kneeling before Helena, he removed her white undergarments. She looked down at him, her thighs trembling slightly.

What should have seemed vulgar and indecent instead felt like a sacred ritual when performed by him. The liquid that had soaked her undergarments began to drip onto the shelf below, pooling there.

“Even this is beautiful.”

With a dangerous gleam in his eyes, Isaac buried his face between her thighs. A humid and warm sensation filled the space between them. Carefully, he extended his tongue, licking her most private area.

“Ahh….”

Hearing the muffled moans escaping through the skirt she bit into, Isaac licked up the clear liquid that flowed from her. The faint sweetness of it made him crave more, and he continued to lap at the folds of her skin. The more he did so, the more Helena’s hips rose, and the fluid flowed even more freely from her parted flesh. Determined not to waste a single drop, Isaac now fully enveloped the wet area with his mouth, sucking on it.

“Ugh…!”

Helena bit down harder on the cloth in an effort to stifle her moans, but the ache in her lower abdomen only grew tighter. Her bound arms ached, and she instinctively tried to break the necklace she was wearing, only to recall that it was a gift from him. She decided to focus instead on the pleasure he was giving her.

At some point, his tongue began to explore her flesh as thoroughly as if he were tasting every inch of her inner self, much like the way he had swept through her mouth earlier. For the first time in her long vampire life, Helena experienced sensations that made her toes curl and goosebumps rise all over her body. Her breathing grew ragged, and instead of thirsting for blood, her desire to be filled by him surged.

Clink, clink—

Suddenly, the sound of someone pulling on the confessional door brought the two, lost in ecstasy, to an abrupt halt.

“Uh, what? Is it locked?”

Hearing the voice from outside, Helena shook her head slightly. Isaac, who had been gazing up at her, sucked on her tender flesh one last time before standing up.

“Mm…!”

His lips glistened with her fluids.

“All your sins have been washed away by my lips, so do not sin anymore.”

Isaac wiped his lips with the sleeve of his shirt before pulling up the underwear dangling at Helena’s ankles. Then, he pressed his lips against both of her knees, carefully tidying her skirt and blouse to perfection. Finally, he picked up his priestly robe and removed the necklace from her wrist. By the time he was finished, there was no trace left of their earlier passion.

Feeling a strange mix of emotions, Helena adjusted her hoarse voice and asked, 

“…What if I sin again?”

Clink, clink, clink—

As the sound of the doorknob being jiggled grew more frantic, Isaac hesitated for a moment before leaning down to kiss the reddened mark on her wrist caused by the necklace. His kiss was slow, almost as if he were applying an ointment.

“Then I will wash them away again with my lips.”

Since his words did not mean she should refrain from loving him, Helena let out a small, exasperated laugh.

“…You’ll regret it.”

“I only performed confession for a sinful believer.”

A sinful believer. What kind of man could speak so coldly to a woman who claimed to love him? 

‘Can his feelings even be called love?’ 

Helena’s answer to that question was a resounding no. His emotions were nothing more than the lust of a male for his female. The love she remembered was poorer and more passionate than any Goddess, devoid of rationality. Yet, the priest’s heart, devoted solely to the Goddess, was so rational that it could extinguish even the fiery excitement they had just shared.

‘If it were love, he wouldn’t be able to speak like that.’

Helena felt as though she were falling endlessly, realizing that the taste of his blood would be thick and devoid of any sweetness.

Clink.

“What are you two doing in here?”

As the confessional door opened, Fred appeared, his expression sharp and accusatory. Helena pushed Isaac aside and stepped out first, glaring at the young priest.

“Ask your senior priest. I’m sure he’ll kindly explain.”

Not caring how Isaac might explain himself to his junior, Helena brushed off her wrinkled skirt and left the chapel alone.

“Priest Isaac…?”

Isaac, unable to hear Fred’s call, stood trembling with guilt in front of Helena. His hands quivered, betraying his inner turmoil. He had not only laid hands on her body but had committed a shameless act. The thought that all he had given her—who had confessed her love for him, only to claim it was a lie out of guilt—was pain, filled him with anguish. Helena, kind and gentle as she was, would feel guilty herself if she ever discovered the depth of his remorse. He wished she would hate him instead. No, in truth… he wished she would continue to love him.