Altar of Shame
The pew shook of stolen wine as his bible marked her holy-cross necklace. “Oh God,” she sobbed, but his tongue worshipped her like a sinner. The organ’s drone covered their union.
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Bookstack
Behind the rows, his fingers dug into her waist. A volume dropped as she bent over the counter. His voice hot in her ear: “You’ll come before they see us.” Her shudder was all the {permission|consent|answer] he needed.
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Between the Bookshelves
The ancient books trembled as he pushed her against the racks. Her whimpers were lost by the musty air. His grip dug into her waist, yanking at her skirt. “Silent,” he hissed, but the shifting shelves gave them away.
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