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want this manuscript so badly I wouldn’t even demand that you submit to the bastard.’
    ‘I believe I’m worthy of acquiring La Coste ,’ Justine told the priest. ‘But you’ll want more than that admission from me, won’t you?’ Remembering the instruction Mrs Weiss had given her, reciting the words as accurately as she could recall, Justine said, ‘I believe you’ll want me to prove my worthiness.’
    The priest sneered. ‘You’re quite the eager little bitch, aren’t you?’
    The words stunned her, almost as much as the shock she received when he pulled her out of her pew. Justine had been brought up with a strong faith in religion and an ingrained respect for the clergy. To be called a bitch by a priest was the most cutting condemnation she could imagine. She stumbled after him as he walked down the aisle, her heart pounding as she tried to guess what test he had in mind.
    ‘ La Coste was written by a great man,’ the priest grumbled. ‘It’s almost unthinkable that it should ever end up in the hands of an English girl .’
    The disdain in his voice made Justine feel nauseous. If she hadn’t been out of breath from trying to maintain her balance and keep up with him she would have protested that his insults were more severe than she deserved.
    ‘You have a lot to prove if you think you’ll get my consent for this purchase,’ the priest growled. ‘And I should warn you before we begin, you’re not going to win me over so easily.’
    ‘I’m worthy of acquiring La Coste ,’ Justine said indignantly.
    ‘Then you’ll prove that to me,’ he snapped.
    To the left of the chancel, facing the pulpit, stood a life-size statue of the virgin and child. Their beatific smiles watched blindly as Justine was dragged to the altar. Above her the gaze from the crucified Christ figure stared down as she was forced to her knees. Justine could only feel her shame intensify when the priest pulled his erection from the folds of his vestments. The long length of flesh was hard and obscenely pink. It struck her as being a disgusting and unholy sight in the sanctuary of the church. Unable to contain her response, she sneered with revulsion and tried to back away from him.
    He caught her by the shoulder and dragged her closer to his hardness. ‘Touch my cock,’ he demanded. ‘Stroke it. Wank me. Bring me off. Make me come.’
    Each word was like a slap across the face and Justine recoiled from the shock of hearing a priest utter such ungodly instructions. She tried silently to implore him for leniency but the hard set of his jaw told her he would show no mercy. His gaze was devoid of compassion and he looked unable to do anything except repeat the more offensive of his instructions.
    ‘Touch my cock. Wank me. Make me come.’
    As she noticed the pearl of pre-come that glistened over the eye of his glans, then caught the salty scent of his arousal, Justine realised she wanted to obey his instructions. Although they were in a church, and even though she knew her thoughts were deeply sacrilegious, she was desperate to do as the priest demanded. Tentatively at first, then with growing eagerness, she reached for his erection and circled him with her hand.
    ‘Praise be to Jesus,’ he muttered. ‘That’s what I need.’
    His shaft thickened as her cool fingers pressed against his boiling flesh. The bead of pre-come grew distinctly larger and the strong pulse of his arousal beat steadily in her palm. When she stroked her hand along him, pulling the rubbery flesh of his foreskin over his purple glans, the priest sighed. His exclamation of approval turned into a groan when she tugged the skin back and tautly exposed his swollen dome. Holding him firmly, she could feel the desire for climax shivering through his length.
    ‘Go on,’ he spluttered. ‘In the name of the Father, use both hands and toss me off now.’
    She flinched from the way he called on God to watch down, but that didn’t stop her from eagerly obeying.