Page 46 of The Secrets of a Sin

I continuously reread the eerie note in my head repeatedly until my breathing becomes painfully erratic.

Who the hell would write this, and why?

Whoever it was knew about Arsen and me. They knew we’ve been together, but what could they mean by he’d only ruin me? My heart pounded relentlessly at the warning and the idea that someone snuck into my room to lay it on my bed. It didn’t make sense, but there was nothing I could do about it. I couldn’t report it because I would get in trouble, but most importantly, I’d ruin Arsen’s chances at finding Phoebe’s murderer, and I couldn't do that to him. Despite how much of an asshole he was, I couldn’t screw him over like that. So, taking in the fancy cursive and the black ink one last time, I crumple up the paper and toss it in the trash bin. I couldn’t let their warning get to me. If anything, they should be the ones worried because next time I catch that someone’s been in my room, I won’t take it as lightly as I am now.

I may appear weak on the outside, but inside, I’m dying for someone to fuck with me so I can release all this pent-up anger that’s been growing within me. My parents, my affliction, the video, Arsen, everything in my life that has caused anguish on my soul; I want to bleed it all out until I’ve given my pain to someone else.

And I’d gladly do it to rid me of this burden.

Now, as I stand beside my bed, I sigh.

I needed a shower. I needed to cleanse myself of Arsen and the hope that he wanted me out of my system, and the only way that seemed probable was to scrub my body clean. So, after grabbing the essentials and some comfy pajamas, I’m out of my room and hiking down the ill-lit corridor towards the showers. I feel gross and definitely looked gross all day, but I doubt Arsen was concerned about my grisly appearance as his thoughts were elsewhere. My palm still tingled where he held onto me as if I was his only comfort and solace. He had no family to grieve with, no parents, no grandparents. His single source of anything intimate was me, and if he asked, I would have given him every bit of myself to heal his pain.

As I approach the shower doors, I can hear something faint coming from within the room, but I can’t figure out what it is. So ever so slowly, I wrap my hand around the handle and tug the door open.

What the hell is that sound? Are people arguing here?

Stepping further into the shower room, the sound slowly begins to change, and my eyes immediately widen as my heart thunders mercilessly against my breastbone.

Nope, that’s definitely not arguing.

It’s moaning.

A symphony of pleasure-filled cries and blissful wails is coming from the showers, echoing off each wall in the bathroom, creating a piercing effect in my ears.

Who the hell would be having sex in here?

Blame it on my curious nature. I tiptoe across the tile floor, listening to the groans intensifying with each step I take. My skin heats, and a rush of tingles courses through my body, eager to see what exactly was going on.

“Don’t stop.” A voice pants desperately as the sounds of skin kneading together tangles in with their moans. In and out, my breathing falters listening to the blatant sounds of sex, and from the screams, it was good sex.

The kind that deserves an audience.

There’s no harm in peeking, right? It’s like porn, but instead of being behind a computer screen, I have a front seat to the show. The moans and cries are as authentic as they can be, so instead of turning away like I should, I don’t. With each step, I can feel their rapturous state pierce through me as my pussy throbs in the worst possible way. Images of Arsen and me in the shower together circulate in my head, imagining our bodies moving against one another uncontrollably.

Fuck.

My throat feels tight, and the dress I am wearing is beginning to melt into my skin as the mix of moans and slapping skin puncture a hole through my center and fill my womb with hunger. So, once I approach a wall that separates them from me, I lean my forehead against the cool tile wall and let the sounds fill my ears.

“Keep moving that pussy, baby.” A rough growl vibrates my thighs. “Yeah. Fuck yeah, right there.”

God damn.

As if my body is under a spell, I shove a hand under my dress skirt and use a finger to push aside my underwear. The steamy air of the shower assaults my clit, and I let out a small cry before sweeping the pad of my finger across my swollen nub.

“This juicy cunt is mine.” The low possessive voice demands. “Isn’t that right?”

I circle harder, laying one palm flat on the wall while the other continues to caress my button. But listening to their dirty words and moans wasn’t enough to bring me over the edge. I needed more. I needed to watch. So, with my hand still under my dress, I ever so slowly peer my head around the corner and almost choke on air as I realize who it is.

It wasn’t just any two people fucking in the showers. It was two of the three girls who had suddenly taken an interest in me, devouring each other with absolutely no care in the world, with their shower curtain open like they wanted to be caught. My mouth drops to the floor as I take in the erotic scene before me. Annalise is wrapped around Priscilla with her head tilted back, and her face contorts into a pained expression with each frantic gyrate of her hip. Priscilla’s palms hold Annalise’s ass in a possessive grip as she grinds into her with brutal force, which sends my heart into a wild frenzy. I feel dirty for watching them, as I’m sure most would if they caught two women fucking, but for me, it was different. But the most messed up part about this whole thing was, as much as I wanted to stop touching myself, I physically couldn’t. Their movements were hypnotic, and the faster they fucked, the livelier my finger became.

Not everyone was addicted to sex. Not everyone would be standing here, imagining what it would feel like to have a woman's soft skin hold you as they obliterated you with their pussy, and made you come without ever having anything inside you. The thought sent shivers down my spine and a spark to my core, but as my eyes continued to observe them, Priscilla dropped to her knees while Annalise pressed her back up against the wall. In a matter of seconds, Annalise’s small thigh lifted and was resting over Priscilla’s shoulder as her mouth latched onto her cunt.

“Softer.” Annalise cries out while her hands seek out her small breasts and her hips swivel over Priscilla's face.

Walk away, Charlotte.

A small voice inside my head shouts, but I can’t tear my eyes off the scene in front of me. I’ve never seen something so erotic in my life. Something so foreign to my eyes that even I couldn’t deny was alluring.

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