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Author's Notes: Hello readers, my muse strikes again. I've been on this kick of writing one-shots with cold protagonists (or antagonists, if you want to be technical). To explain the category of this story, it's a "tragedy" only because Edward is a "tragic" anti-hero. We're dealing with a twisted, yet interesting character, who's as unapologetic as he is dangerous. So..

A Huge DISCLAIMER: This particular chapter deals with sex and religion and two boys. If you're a practicing Catholic, you're not going to like the actions that take place now and farther into the story. This particular chapter deals with relations between Edward and an altar boy. Yeah, you read that right. No, Edward isn't a priest and in this chapter his age is relatively close to the altar boy's. I don't know if you should feel better or worse about this, but keep in mind, both are in their teens.

Okay, with that said, read with caution, or perversion. Whichever suits you best.

Pardon my lack of knowledge of Catholic practices. I did light research.

Characters aren't my own

xXx

A Notch on My Bedpost

xXx

Riley

~I wanted to be his temptation. I wanted to be his apple. I wanted to be his knowledge. I wanted to be his sin.~

He was a good Catholic boy. We met sometime after my sixteenth birthday. By then I was well rounded, all innocence lost. I was looking to damn someone and he was just too perfect.

Ashy brown hair, light hazel eyes and a square jaw of a model. He wore flattering slacks and the fitted sweaters, but it was always better to see him in action at church.

He was an altar boy. I think that may have been the most appealing thing about him. I was curious. Had a hand - weathered and withered in age - touched his firm and yet virgin body? Did he have any stories to tell? It would have made the town more interesting.

I caught him on his way from church some time on Sunday, walking my way. I had been watching him, enthralled by him. I wanted to make him pop, scream, shudder and just about anything else he could be capable of doing in mid-coitus. I wanted his virgin load in me and I wanted to remember our shared time together as it evacuated the warmth of my insides.

I accidentally knocked my shoulder into his, causing him to drop whatever he was holding in his hands; a bible and a textbook of sorts. Luck was in my favor - as usual - when I noticed the damage I did to the leather-bound book. There it lay in a dirty puddle on the sidewalk. Biting back the triumphant grin, I bent over to retrieve the book. I looked up at him, pulling my bottom lips out in a pout, aware of the magic I could work on an unsuspecting man. I stared up at him through my length lashes and fixed my expression to one of sorrow.

"I'm so sorry. Look at what I done." I exaggerated exasperation, "Is there anything I can do?"

With a forgiving smile, he shook his head, "Don't worry about it. I was probably in your way." His hazel eyes penetrated mine with such tender compassion, my cock hardened in my jeans. I wondered how he'd look with that glint of sin. I hoped it brought out the green in his irises.

"No, I can vouch for being a ditz," My tongue touched the swell of my bottom lip, drawing it inward for my teeth to latch on. I watched his reaction carefully, rating his self-control. His innocent eyes widened slightly before they darted up to meet mine. I didn't want to push him yet, so I feigned innocence, furrowing my eyebrows as if I was deep in thought, "I've done my fair share of destroying things. Maybe I can buy you a new one?" Adding a bit of fuel to the fire, I teased him just a bit, combing a hand through my unruly hair. My teeth were relentless against my bottom lip. He shifted in front of me, before offering his hand to take the Bible.

"No, I'm sure I can get one from home…" His voice trailed off just as I handed him the book, the tips of our fingers brushing against each other. I could feel the shudder from him, even then. My eye was better at sizing him up than my cock. I knew what he liked, why he stayed in that mildew smelling church until the wee hours of the morning. I was blessed with being observant and I used that skill quite well.

"Let me make it up to you?" He was easily breakable. At 16, I've had tougher chases. The challenge wasn't getting him in my reigns, it was watching him unravel, realize that all he ever knew was a lie. I fucked boys, it was a fact, however there was always an underlying motive; I heard they were hung, they were married, or they gave fantastic head. This boy, this wonder in black slacks and a sweater yearned to have me open his eyes. He combed his hand over the Holy book affectionately, nodding slowly.

"I'll come by this Wednesday and give you a brand new one." A Bible wasn't hard to come by when you were an altar boy, we both knew this. Yet, the sparkle in his eyes was purely genuine and kind, not yet clouded with lust or desire. He wanted me and he had no idea.

xXx

I didn't have to buy one. All it took was a short trip to my parent's room, bypassing the invisible barrier that kept me out of the lack of private life they had. Their bed was deader than my own, but that was barely saying much since my mother took to occupying others as I took to occupying closets, counters, teacher's desks, cars...

We had that in common, I suppose.

I combed through their closet, knocking medical bags with my leg and kicking aside expensive purses. I found it right under the hidden bottle of wine, chuckling to myself. It looked as new as the day she bought it to impress Father Aro, the new man of the church three years ago. It was a moot attempt on her part. The Priest was queerer than a flying horse.

Within a month of her chase, she became bored, tossing the Bible, like another forgotten designer bag.

I held it in my hand, finding a use for it finally, although just as shallow and deceiving as hers.

That Wednesday, I stepped into the church, not completely surprised to find it littered with older women and families of our neighborhood. I attended church on occasion when the streets thinned of potentials. A Holy place such as this had a knack for drawing in the biggest sinners, myself included.

Just dirty water on dirty bodies. There was too much bad to clean off. No one had a chance at purity, and yet here they were week after week.

The purest of them, stood at the altar, glancing over his shoulder to watch me. A hesitant smile spread on his face, adding a boyish look to his sharp, maturing features. He waved and I did as well, gesturing to the book I clutched to my chest. I sat back and watched the service with mild interest, keeping my eyes on him. There wasn't much he was doing now, other than tossing shy glances my way. I smirked knowingly, but kept from the obvious signs, licking my lips or puckering them in his direction. It would remain innocent for now.

Innocent.

I chuckled, recalling the irony of chasing an altar boy, the epitome of innocence, or perhaps in today's society, an epitome of innocence lost. Those wondrous, fucktastic eyes of his were piercing and void of any jading. He didn't suspect that my advances were ill intentioned, nor did he turn down my offer to make it up to him. He was too trusting for his own damn good. A part of me wanted to feel sorry, but all I felt was turned on. His pink lips pressed together as he remained in thought, listening to the priest's words. I imagined those lips wrapped around my throbbing dick and I had to bite back a moan. Feeling my cock grow in suit pants, I shifted, conveniently placing the book over my lap.

Another sufficient use for it.

When the service was finally over, people began milling around, smiles galore, life's disappointments nowhere to be seen in their eyes. It was a remarkably wondrous and sad thing, watching them hug and clutch each other close, whispering words of encouragement and praise. Smiling, happy people fooled.

Priest Aro in all his pleasant glory spoke silently to an elderly couple. I couldn't help my thoughts as they took that familiar turn to my sexual curiosity. The look in that man's eyes were hunger, but not for knowledge or for passion, only for what I was there for as well.

I knew this because I merely observed.

Remembering my main purpose there, I scanned the crowd of church-goers, looking for that symbolic gown and brown head of hair elevated over most of the populous. He was tall, had a lean build like a swimmer, nowhere to be seen under the get-up. I figured he was a bit too old to be of service at the altar, but it was hard tracking what exactly certain denominations of Catholicism stuck to these days.

He was in the far end of the massive hall, towards the left of the front row of pews speaking to a middle aged couple, a woman with the same shade of brown hair as him, and the other, tall and lean, with a square jaw. Well, I certainly knew where he got his fuck good looks from. Catching my eye in the midst of a conversation, he pouted apologetically.

My cock twitched at the way his succulent lips poked out.

I cocked my head, watching him longer than I needed to before mouthing, "I'll come back later." throwing a wink his way. Even from where I stood, I could see the pink coloring on his cheeks, before he nodded. With the book still in my grip, I pointed to my lifted wrist, asking what time I should be back. He covertly lifted his hand mid-way, as to not grab the attention of his parents who were now speaking to the Priest. He opened his palm out once, fisted it, and then opened it again.

10 o' clock?

A bit late for a confession, isn't it?

I nodded, already working my legs back towards the double doors leading out to the entrance.

We'd have the place mostly to ourselves. I grinned, knowingly as I climbed the steps down towards the street. He was making this too easy.

xXx

The door was open. I stepped inside, taking in the way it felt just standing there in a big, empty space.

Each step I took almost thundered back at me. Whoever was inside, knew they had a visitor. Letting my eyes adjust to the dim lighting, I swept them over the pews. He sat just in the middle on the far right, facing forward. Hearing my steps, he turned his head slowly, giving me his profile.

"There you are." He didn't have to speak loud, the walls carried his voice to me easily, "I'm sorry about earlier today. My parents are here almost as much as I am. "

"It's a family affair." I commented.

"I suppose so. They're really involved with the church," He mumbled shyly, "Thanks for coming."

"No problem." And it wasn't one at all. Taking his kind smile as an invitation, I sat next to him in the pew, "Why are you here at this time?"

He faced forward again, hands clasped in his lap like a good boy, "It's comforting." He spoke gently, "I know it's weird for me to say such a thing, but I do enjoy spending my time here."

I shrugged, "To each his own, right?" Lord knows what gave me comfort. My mind briefly flashed to being taken from behind in a fun house at the State Fair some weeks before. I offered him the leather book and he took it gingerly.

"Thanks." He looked it over, "Did you buy it?" He lifted his gaze, hazel eyes meeting my own. He really was a beautiful boy.

"No." I answered honestly, "I figured with you it would be put to better use."

His pink lips turned down. In the dim lighting of the church, they seemed to shimmer, "Was it of no use for you?"

The shift in topic was subtle, but I was a professional. I knew how to handle accordingly and allow it to work in my favor.

"The best purity is that which goes untouched," I watched as he digested my words, "When you add white to black, all you get is gray. You can't go to white again."

His eyes focused to one of a pure soul on a mission, "You really believe that to be true?" I nodded, "It's not..." He paused, realizing he didn't know my name.

"Edward."

"Edward." He repeated, before smiling when the name fell from his tongue so nicely, "Maybe you just need someone to talk to."

"I'm talking to someone now, aren't I?"

The comment was rewarded with a pleasant laughter that rung out in the silent, massive space, "You are, but that's not what I meant."

"It's sweet." I cocked my head for affect, looking over him suggestively, "You want to save me, don't you?"

Even in the candle light, I could see his cheeks rose up, "You're the only one that can save yourself."

"Then that must also mean that by 'saving myself' I shall know when it has occurred, that when that redemption and salvation comes is up to me."

His brows furrowed at my words, "Yes, I suppose so." He said, unsure if he was being lead into a loophole.

He was.

"Then this redemption and salvation I'm looking for is self-made, based on my own morals and beliefs, therefore making the idealized reward mine alone."

He was catching on, "No, that's not-"

"Do you retract your statement?"

"No." He shook his head, "But you're twisting my words."

"How am I?" I prodded, "For me to save myself, wouldn't I have to acknowledge when I'm saved. If saving myself is up to me, shouldn't knowing when it happens be up to me as well?"

"It is, but-"

"But only under the eye of Christian Faith?"

He let out a sigh, "Under what is right by the Lord."

"So my salvation doesn't lie with me, but with a greater being?"

"It lies in your faith in Him."

"So I have faith and I'm set free?"

"It's not that easy." He shook his head and for the first time, this altar boy, this mark of innocence reminded me of myself. His eyes stared ahead and he was quiet as if thinking over something that required all his attention.

I knew his sin as well as my own.

If anything, the sight turned me on more, "I know my salvation." I spoke quietly.

"And what do you believe it to be?" his tone was a ghost of my own, but I could hear the curiosity.

"On my knees," I started, sitting straighter and leaning forward, catching the surprise in his beautiful eyes, "between your legs." He gasped just before our lips met. As easy as the chase was, I knew the score would be a much more difficult task. My hands remained on the back of the seat, my chin tilted up so there was pressure between our mouths. He hadn't moved. In fact, I was taken aback to realize he was as frozen as the Virgin Mary statue.

Finally he pulled away, his mouth agape and his chest heaving with pants, "Don't say that!" He stammered, "Don't d-do that!" I found it thrilling to watch him flustered, a hand to his lips.

"You said I can save myself." I knew I sounded like a pretentious asshole, because that is just what I am. I noticed that he hasn't moved, but it is not a surprise. I saw who he was the moment I labeled him my next conquest. I understood that he would want me as well.

He was too pure, too naive and too comfortable in that bubble of his. I knew the feeling, such complacency and boredom when you were hiding the serpent in the closet.

I wanted to be his temptation. I wanted to be his apple. I wanted to be his knowledge. I wanted to be his sin.

He watched me with learning eyes, still unsure, but I knew the need was there. I felt it.

"Let me." I offered.

He shuddered before me and the beast in me smiled in triumph at the power I had over him. He was taking in my appearance. How attractive I am, how I hold myself, all in a matter of art and deception to get what I want. The classic wolf in sheep's clothing. He fell for it and he knew this and yet, I could tell that the weighing options of morals were giving out to what I had to offer.

Something more.

He didn't need to say it. I leaned in again, taking his flesh with new vigor, testing out the shape of his orifice. With a breathy moan and a whispered, "Forgive me." he pressed his lips against mine in a carnal hunger that could only be measured to a denied, starving man.

I broke him in so easily.

His arms found home around my neck and I took the opportunity to bring him to me closer with a hand around his waist. The muffled groans and moans echoed throughout the building and it was like sex on audio. I kissed along his shaped jaw, down to the flawless skin of his neck, inhaling a citrus scent. His clothes, I noticed just then, were his usual slacks and fitted, knit sweater. No altar boy costume to my disappointment.

I continued my descent, to hell or to heaven, depending on who exactly would relay this tale again. I felt Riley's body lock and unlock with each step I took. I lifted his shirt, tickling his navel with my tongue, nipping his hardened buds with my teeth. I watched as he alternated between glancing at me, a pained want so evidently there, to throwing his head back, muttering whispered words of forgiveness and regret.

And I wasn't stopping.

My salvation was inches away. I lowered myself. It was a tight squeeze, but I was able to secure myself between his legs as promised, palming his engorged prick, getting a melodic squeal from him before I dragged the zipper of his slacks down.

"Father," He whimpered, when my nose nuzzled him through his boxers, "Edward!" He cried out, when my tongue tasted his pre-cum after properly exposing him.

It was one hell of an internal battle he was undergoing. He kept his hands fisted at his side when I took him deep, testing his control. He had a lot of it. My tongue flickered across his head occasionally as I stroked him. I worked my lips around his tip, using my usual technique to build up his orgasm, tonguing his slit to rev and start his cries.

His body shook with fight. My cheeks hollowed around his gloriously thick dick and I bobbed in earnest.

His palms instantly hid his eyes as he threw his head back for the countless time in attempt to hold back the truth of how much he wanted this.

This was something I had never experienced before. The beauty of him so helpless, fighting for purity. It was leaving me pulsing and aching against my restraints. I needed a release, even if he wasn't going to give it to me. Keeping my rhythm on his dick, I used my right hand to seize the release I needed. When I was able to free myself from my confines, I stroked in rhythm to my bobs, this time content with the rewarding comfort of my hand.

Riley chose that moment to lose control of his body. His hips thrusted into my mouth, gaining farther entrance than the bob provided. I slowed, allowing him to work at his own pace. That alone seemed to drive him wild.

"Ungh!" He cried into his fist, muffling any attempts at a successful moan.

It was time for me to take it up a notch, "Mmm," I moaned around his sensitive prick, getting a rather violent buck in reply before a guttural cry echoed back to me after hitting the ends of the church's walls.

My throat and tongue was painted with his desire and I swallowed, eager to have that purity in me. How I wished he would have filled my ass with it. His body fell against the bench, relaxed and shivering. Still stroking my leaking cock, I stared up at him. The outline of his jaw was so tempting, angled up, giving me an erotic view of his Adam's apple.

Standing on my feet, I continued to enjoy the view. My hand never left my wood. He was gaining some focus again, sitting up straighter on the bench, his gaze locking with mine before meeting my cock.

"You can save yourself." I whispered harshly, directing my dick at him. He licked his lips, unsure of what to do. A hesitant, shaky hand landed on my slack cladded thigh, his thumb tickling my balls. He leaned forward and I felt the ghost of his breath on my swollen head. The feel of his virgin lips an inch away was exhilarating, but the caress of his full lips was even better.

He didn't know how to suck dick, so he pressed his lips against my mushroom head with an open-mouth kiss. His tongue was a curious, wet stimulation, running along the underside of my dick. He pulled away only to lick his lips, taking in the taste before leaning in again.

I stroked my shaft as he worked the head, whining just as my cock released a sample of my juices. The vibration along my sensitive organ had been growling in an attempt to hold back the inevitable.

But he was going to break me either way. His wide, hazel eyes stared up at me. The view of full lips wrapped around my cock, innocent eyes staring up with newfound sin and I blew a load down in his mouth.

Pulling back in shock, a ribbon of my spunk coated his lips and chin, giving me something to remember.

He tentatively licked his lips, swollen flesh smeared with my juices. I watched in awe, trailing the stream I left on his chin with my thumb, before urging it into his warm, wet mouth. I leaned in, not minding the taste of me on his tongue.

The kiss was gentle and tender, despite the lewd act we pulled in such a sacred place. The Bible I gave him lay somewhere at his side, momentarily forgotten. It was easy to cast it aside, I noticed, when the right opportunity stepped forward. Part of me wondered how he would feel about this after, and part of me just didn't care. I came here to find my release, to see the primal desire in his eyes, watch the beauty of an orgasm written on his pure, unsuspecting face. I marked him as one in a number of many. But I was very much aware that the case was different for him. He had now taken the bite and there was no turning back.

xXx

It was too early to be up, but the timing was perfect.

I stepped in, almost sure I'd smell sex.

There were people, but not many, mostly those of the Holy service, but none were him. I took my time, pacing the area, hands in pocket, eyes fixated on the altar. A smirk worked its way on my lips, but this was no time to relive the past. My destination was to my right. An older woman stepped out of the ever infamous confession booth, clutching a necklace in between her fingers.

I entertained the thought for a second. Would I feel better about this? Would I feel remorse for leaving that pretty boy seated in the pew, a look on hurt and regret in his eyes? Would my actions finally catch up with me?

The thought amused me.

I supposed I was as heartless as ever.

My eyes tickled and itched with a desire I was no longer familiar with. A warming pain echoed in my chest, but I ignored it, stepping towards the booth.

It was a tight space, not much choice of what to do inside. I took a seat, feeling the softness of the fabric under me before facing the wall between me and whoever was on the other side.

I leaned back in the narrowed space and stared ahead, sure that I was going to give the Father an interesting session. There was movement on the other side and a cast of shadows played, alerting me that in fact there was someone there.

"What can I help you with, my child?" He questioned in that familiar voice. I couldn't help the smile that crossed my face.

Father Aro.

Oh, he'll love this.

"Forgive me father, for I have sinned."