Chapter 56 Part 2

The priest, clad in a black robe and untouchable in public, now hunched wretchedly, barely supporting his body with a pew to avoid collapsing to the floor.

His pale skin flushed unnaturally red everywhere his gaze reached, enough to imagine the hidden areas beneath the robe were the same.

He covered his mouth, yet heavy, rapid pants escaped. Gone was his former cold aloofness; his upward-rolling, unfocused eyes showed he teetered on the edge of losing control, flickering with scorching ghostly flames.

It was less pain than enduring some intense stimulation.

He exerted all his strength to suppress it, but saliva still dripped from his mouth, falling through his fingers to the ground, mingling with beads of sweat to soak a wide patch.

Over time, a subtle change appeared in his eyes.

The lake-blue depths ebbed and flowed, enlarged pupils twisting into inhuman shapes.

He seemed immersed in a deep dream, nose catching a familiar, intoxicating scent, mouth filled with soft warmth, tongue tip sending tingling pleasure signals to his brain.

His embrace held softness like a cloud.

Nothing was there, yet these bizarre sensations assaulted him simultaneously, igniting waves of heat in his abdomen.

This wasn’t the first time, but this instance was several times deeper and more intense than the last.

He swallowed saliva incessantly, but the delightful feeling was illusory like mist, unable to substantially sate his thirst.

Suddenly, the lip-tongue heat faded, and clarity returned somewhat to his dazed eyes.

Sensing something, the priest looked up, turning toward the side as if seeing through the wall.

“Incorrigible fool.”

He spat the four words with disdain, straightened up, and walked toward the cathedral’s exterior.

In that short distance, he regained his aloof, ascetic demeanor, no trace of his prior state visible—but his steps lacked their usual composure, faint sweat beaded his forehead, and wrinkles marred his black robe… these details betrayed his inner disarray.

His right hand dangling at his side seemed to grasp something, kneading and stroking it… He clenched it into a fist, nails digging into his palm, but the slight pain couldn’t mask the anomaly—and the stronger it grew, the emptier his hand felt.

By the time he rounded the corner to the church’s rear, the priest’s breathing was once again in utter disarray.

“Baa.”

The Black Goat, which had arrived a step ahead, bleated at him and tugged at his robe hem urgingly.

The priest ignored it, only glaring darkly at the Goat Demon whose body completely shrouded the youth without leaving a single strand of hair exposed. “I didn’t permit you to enter.”

The Goat Demon paused his hand’s motions temporarily, drawing the nearly fainting person in his arms even tighter, casting a mocking glance at the priest: “Enjoying it, Priest大人?”

The priest’s expression remained icy and silent.

“What’s there to be angry about? You benefited from using me too, didn’t you?” As he spoke, the Goat Demon pinched the youth’s face, shoving his tongue back into that honey-filled mouth while lifting his eyes provocatively at the priest.

His hand resumed its actions.

Overstimulated to the point of mental haze and dizziness, Zhong Nian trembled all over. His mouth invaded again, the sucked-swollen tongue aching, sourness spreading through his abdomen.

Vaguely, he heard layered, high-pitched angry bleats nearby, finally reacting to the outside world.

Struggling, he rolled his eyes with effort. In his blurred vision, he glimpsed the familiar black robe not far away. Enduring the devil’s endless plunder, he squeezed out fragmented pleas from between his lips and teeth: “Save… mmph, save…”

The Goat Demon chuckled: “You shouldn’t beg him of all people.”

The devil caressed Zhong Nian’s moist, reddened swollen lips with pity and obsession, while the other hand hidden below slowly ground against the sensitive spot. “He’s the most hypocritical beneficiary, a sanctimonious fraud—a sewer rat masquerading as the Holy Son in priestly robes.”

“I know exactly what he’s thinking.” The devil whispered intimately. “Let me tell you all of it…”

Nose to nose with Zhong Nian, his soft tone like sweet nothings: “He wants to strip you bare, spread your legs, thrust in deep, pour all his filthy desires into your body—make your beautiful cries echo through the entire cathedral, and even a day and night wouldn’t suffice.”

“Just like what I want to do to you—far beyond merely eating your tongue.”

No hint of jest showed in the devil’s eyes. Zhong Nian shuddered violently at the scene conjured by his words, sobbing as he was pushed to the brink of breakdown.

“Know why?” The Goat Demon’s fingers pressed harder, listening to the youth’s increasingly frantic cries, laughing maliciously. “Because I am the part he stripped away from himself. Sensations, life, desires… we share everything.”

Zhong Nian’s eyes widened, his body tensing abruptly, voice cutting off. The next second, he went limp with exhaustion, collapsing wetly into the devil’s arms.

The devil’s voice echoed as if through a thin membrane in his ear.

“The only difference is, I’m not as cowardly and laughable as him, too afraid to even face his own desires.”

The devil licked his fingers withdrawn from below, drawing the flowing essence into his belly.

His inhuman pupils reflected the priest’s rigid face nearby.

“What I want, I get.”

“…”

The taste in his mouth was fishy-sweet. The priest reflexively rolled his throat, as if swallowing something himself.