Chapter 8: The priest's indulgence

Elias Montclair – The Sinful Priest

The grand sanctum of Solmaris was bathed in golden light, casting long shadows across the marble floor. The scent of sacred incense clung to the air, mixing with something far more illicit—the lingering heat of what had just transpired.

Seraphina's lips tingled, her breath uneven as she lifted her gaze to the man before her. Elias Montclair lay sprawled across the lavish divan, his pristine white robes undone, baring the expanse of his chest. Strands of his silvery hair fanned across the cushions, his violet eyes half-lidded, dark with something unreadable.

For a moment, he looked almost divine—if not for the evidence of sin glistening on her lips.

She swallowed, watching his Adam's apple bob as he exhaled a slow, shuddering breath. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears.

Then—ding.

A golden window flickered into view before her eyes.

[RELATIONSHIP UPDATE: ELIAS MONTCLAIR]

[Current Rating: 72 → 86]

Her fingers twitched. She had known this would work, but to see the number jump so significantly…

Elias shifted, lifting a hand to drag his fingers lazily through his hair. A slow smile curled his lips, indulgent and knowing.

"You really are a wicked thing," he murmured, voice thick with amusement—and something deeper.

Seraphina forced herself to steady her breath. "You didn't seem to mind."

"Mind?" He let out a quiet chuckle, lifting a single gloved finger to trace the curve of her jaw. "Seraphina, if I didn't know better, I'd say you were tempting me into damnation."

She met his gaze, unwavering. "Maybe I am."

For the briefest moment, his fingers lingered against her skin, his expression unreadable.

"Careful now," he said, his tone light but his eyes sharp. "A priest should not be so easily swayed."

Seraphina smirked. "And yet, here you are."

Elias merely smiled, something knowing in his expression.

Seraphina glanced once more at the golden system window.

[RELATIONSHIP UPDATE: ELIAS MONTCLAIR]

[Current Rating: 86 → 89]

She had started this route knowing he would be one of the hardest to crack. Elias Montclair was no fool—his devotion to the Celestial Church made him untouchable in the kingdom, yet beneath that veneer of piety lurked a man who reveled in control, in pushing the boundaries between sacred and profane.

And now, she had pushed him further than anyone had before.

But as his gaze lingered on her, something in his expression shifting—calculating, intrigued—Seraphina realized something crucial.

She wasn't the only one playing the game.

Seraphina's breath was unsteady as she knelt before him, her hands splayed on the velvet cushions beneath her. The weight of the moment pressed upon her, the realization that this was no longer just a game. The system window flickered in her vision, but she ignored it.

[Elias Montclair – Affection +15]

The numbers rose with every brush of her fingers, with every unspoken submission in her gaze.

"You came here," Elias murmured, his voice like a prayer, deep and reverent, but laced with something far more dangerous. His thumb traced the curve of her jaw, a contrast to the rougher grip of his other hand, threading into her hair. "And you still pretend you're untouched by sin?"

She swallowed hard.

His robe hung open, the gold embroidery trailing over his toned stomach, the expanse of smooth, pale skin interrupted only by the slow rise and fall of his breath. He was utterly exposed before her—undone and laid bare within his own sanctum.

Seraphina had thought she would be the one in control. That she could tease out his weaknesses, press the right buttons to accelerate their bond. But now, with him reclined in sinful invitation, it was she who felt undone.

She hesitated only for a moment. Then, slowly, deliberately, she leaned forward.

Elias let out a sharp breath as her lips ghosted over his stomach, trailing upward, mapping the ridges of muscle as she worked her way toward his chest. His hand in her hair tightened, guiding her where he wanted.

[Elias Montclair – Affection +10]

She knew what she was doing. Knew that this was a shortcut—an illicit way to raise his affection faster.

And yet… the heat coiling inside her had nothing to do with strategy.

"You worship so sweetly," Elias murmured, his head tilting back against the altar, exposing the column of his throat. His breath hitched as she kissed just beneath his collarbone, then lower, her mouth tracing a path of ruin. "Perhaps you were meant to kneel before me like this all along."

Her fingers dug into the fabric of his robes, feeling the tension in his body, the restraint thrumming beneath his skin.

She pressed another kiss to his chest, just above the rapid beat of his heart. Then, in a whisper, she answered, "Perhaps, Your Holiness, I was meant to bring you to your knees instead."

His grip on her tightened.

And then, the sanctum was filled with nothing but the sound of his breathing, ragged and unsteady, as her lips descended lower.