Page 42 of Psycho Sinners

“Do you understand, Scarlet?”

Why did him saying my name send a strange shiver coursing down my spine? It was so raw and gravelly, and it made me feel something I really shouldn’t have felt right now.

“Yes,” I said, maybe a little too forcefully.

“Good, now sit on it.”

I blinked and frowned, taking a moment to process exactly what he’d said. He just sighed like he was talking to a damn toddler as he tugged my hair, coaxing me to my feet.

“Sit on my dick, pet,” he commanded as he held me in my bent over position by my hair.

So I’d been correct in my assumption.

“Now. And face the table.” His tone was growing tired, and I feared he’d forcefully yank me down onto that painful length if I didn’t obey.

So I turned, grateful I’d gotten a bit messy with my blow-job so that I’d have some lubrication.

I eased myself on his length, grinding my teeth to keep from showing any expression as Julian and Cristian watched me with delight.

His cock stretched my walls, the girth on him slightly painful. It took me a solid thirty seconds to finally slide right down to his hilt, and the involuntary quiver I made as he reached around me, his cock moving, made him inhale sharply.

“Good girl,” he breathed, his warm breath washing over my ear and sending a bizarre tingle through me. He had no right to be making me feel like this, and his other hand rested against my waist, making me tremble again.

He made no other sound or notion to show how he felt with me perched on his dick, and I didn’t know how to feel. Was he just going to sit here, his dick buried in me?

He beckoned for my plate, and Julian slid it over so that it was beside his. His giant form pressed against my back, his thick arms wrapping around me as he began cutting up his steak.

What the actual fuck?

“Eat.”

I stared at my plate, hyper aware of his dick still hard as rock inside me, his body flush against my back as he cut up his food. When he lifted a forkful of steak and ate it over my shoulder, his chin resting on it, some part of me wanted to scream, while the other part was feeling sinful things.

“Eat, or I’ll make you eat,” he said once he’d swallowed, no emotion to his tone, although I knew it wasn’t an idle threat.

So I did, although it was hard to focus on anything but his dick buried inside me.

This was messed up, the four of us eating like I wasn’t in some weird sex act. Was it even considered one? What was this?

Tyrone finished his meal in record time, while I was struggling. He sipped his glass of whiskey over my shoulder, his warm breath washing over my neck as he breathed.

All eyes focused on me as I tried to finish my meal, refusing to look away from the food as my stomach somersaulted repeatedly.

I finally finished it, and Tyrone set his now empty whiskey glass down.

Was he going to allow me to scurry back to my room? What now?

I stiffened as his hand moved to my arm, sliding along it to my shoulder. My heart hammered, and my skin rippled as his dick twinged inside me.

His hand moved to my collarbone, his fingers trailing down to my left breast, where he teased the nipple as I stared at the whiskey glass, feeling his brothers watching me intently.

No one said a word as Tyrone continued to slide his hand down my front, dancing it over my pubic area and making me twitch.

My breaths were coming sharper now, my emotions a chaotic, confused mix. And then his hand moved down, his fingers finding my clit and swirling over it.

I fought the urge to drop my head back on his shoulder, cursing my body for reacting as I involuntarily arched into his hand.

“Don’t move, pet,” he breathed against my ear, his lips brushing my neck ever so-slightly. I wasn’t sure if he’d meant to do it or not, but it made the flesh there tingle.

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