Page 16 of Holy Sinner

“It’s time,” he says quietly and gives me a nod.

Anyone else would have alarm bells ringing in their heads if they were alone with Rafe and I with him saying that, but Kit? She leans right into him with a trusting smile on her beautiful face. She knows she’s safe with us.

Even if she ran from us, we wouldn’t hurt her. We would drag her ass right back where it belonged, though. Chain her to the fucking bed and make sure she never sets foot out in the world again-

“Grant.” Rafe says my name like a curse and I snap back to reality. “You with me?”

“Yeah, I’m with you.” I stand from my seat and pluck the black box from the center of the table before I go to my knees in front of Kit.

“What’s going on?” Her big brown eyes go from me to Rafe and back again before she clears her throat and looks at the box I’m holding. “What is that?”

“Not a ring. Not yet,” I tell her with a smile, snapping the box open in front of her. The knives glint under the lights of the room. They’re small, made special to fit Kit’s grip and hand. She’ll be able to handle them easily, not like the ones she’s been using during our training. Those are too big, too heavy for her to get comfortable with them.

“We had these custom-made for you,” Rafe tells her as he nudges her towards the box. The blades are titanium, thinner, so she’ll be able to conceal them easier. The handles are mother of pearl, something pretty for her to look at before she uses them on filth.

“A dress, a bracelet and now this?” Kit whispers as she leans forward to touch one of the knives with a smile. “I love them, but why–?” She doesn’t finish her question and it hangs heavy in the air. Rafe looks my way but I only stare at Kit. It’s me that answers her.

“You should have something just for you, to protect yourself. We’re going to step up your training.”

Kit bites her lip. “You’re worried about the photos. They’re getting closer.”

I think about lying to her but I don’t. Kit would know. “They are. We want to know you’ll be protected, even when we’re not with you.” I wanted to get her a gun but Kit won’t use it on account of the gun jamming the one time we tried to show her how to shoot.

She nods and picks up one of the knives with a heavy sigh. “You won’t have to worry about me. I promise.” She turns the knife and spins it with a graceful twist of her wrist and Rafe catches her hand.

“Someone’s been practicing,” he murmurs before he drops the knife back into the box and kisses her neck. “Why don’t you show me what else you can do, hmm?”

Kit squirms in his lap and reaches back to wrap an arm around his neck. “Rafe,” she whispers, dragging her fingers through his dark hair. I rock back on my heels and watch them together. We should talk about the photos, about what it will take to keep Kit’s privacy safe but we don’t. Instead, I drop the box back onto the table and slide back into my seat.

He hums and bows his head, lips moving down the side of her neck. “Are you enjoying the show?” he murmurs and I don’t know if he’s talking to Kit or me. I stay silent but lean back in my chair and watch my girl and my idiot boyfriend together.

I watch her hand flex in Rafe’s hair and I shift when my blood starts to heat. There’s no way watching them like this isn’t going to have my dick hard. Rafe slides his hand under her skirts and the material bunches and waterfalls over his big hand as Kit’s legs part. She shifts, weight moving to the balls of her feet as she moves herself back to grind on him and I know he’s just as hard as I am.

“I am,” Kit says, answering for the both of us.

Rafe moves and I know he’s touching her from the quick little gasp Kit lets loose. He strokes her slowly, from the rise and fall of his hand under her dress, as he curls his free hand around her throat. I know what Kit is feeling. The weight and warmth of Rafe’s touch while she starts to fall head over heels right into the bottomless ocean of pleasure that exists solely from Rafe’s creation. I swallow hard, the ghost of his grip on my throat is still fresh. He’s impossible to resist when he’s focused on you.

I know it firsthand, same as Kit.

“Give her more,” I order and he looks up at me.

Rafe smiles, wicked and dark and from the way Kit’s body jerks, I know he’s touching her just the way she likes.

“How much?” Rafe asks. His eyes drop to the hand that I’ve got on my dick and when I squeeze it, he grins. “How much do you want me to touch her?” he asks again.

I jerk my chin at the table in front of us. “Eat her pussy. Fuck dinner.”

He gives the still fully laden table a dubious look but does exactly like I tell him to.

Good boy.

Rafe rises from his chair and brings Kit with him. She’s pliant in his arms, letting him move her the way he wants until he’s turning her around and shoving dinner plates and glassware to the side to make space for her on the table in front of me. Something hits the floor but none of us pay it any mind. With the reputation The Cellar has, a broken dish is nothing. As if for emphasis, a woman’s moan floats through the air, the singing now turned to more.

I don’t need to look down at the stage to know what’s happening when there’s another moan, not an answer, but an echo. The bodies that moved together as one aren’t just dancing anymore–they’re fucking. By the end of the night I’m certain half the clientele now enjoying their dinners will be indulging in their own happy ending. We’re just ahead of schedule is all.

“Oh god, yes,” Kit grips the table edge and sobs when Rafe falls to his knees in front of her, burying his face between her thighs. He grips her hips and the material of her dress bunches in his hands as he uses it to hold her down.

Kit bites her lip and turns to look at me. “Please, please, please.”

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