Page 64 of Sin and Salvation

The pleasure seemed to last forever, and then they came deep, a hot gush of come filling me up.

Zane pushed deep into my mouth, and a flood of seed poured down my throat. I swallowed desperately, panting for breath, licking his cock clean as he growled with satisfaction.

I collapsed against Aeron’s chest, breathing hard, and we all just lay there, enjoying the moment.

“I love you all,” I murmured against his neck, and he kissed my forehead.

“I love you too, sugar,” he whispered back.

Zane ran his fingers through my hair. “I love you. Never doubt us.”

“And I love you. We’ve made our mark on you,” Crow whispered in my ear, his chest warm against my back. “And we’re going to do this every night until you truly understand that you’re ours now.”

They all moved to hold me between them, keeping me comfortable with their heavy knots inside my body.

There was nothing that I wanted more than this. No matter what happened, no matter who tried to split us apart, it would never work.

We were locked together forever.

ChapterThirty-Two

The city of Concordia was a mess for a few months following the destruction of Giraud Tower and Maxime’s ultimate disappearance.

Journalists, especially Julie Zarro, had a field day with the news. Every newspaper that had been suppressed by Maxime, either with money or threats, immediately burst into life with sordid, juicy articles detailing every last snippet of Maxime’s deep-seated corruption.

‘Someone’ had copied the files from Maxime’s office and had distributed the entire lot to each of those papers. Some demons, like myself, were quite handy with a copying machine after years of posing as his assistant. Not that I would ever admit it.

The evidence was bad enough that when the trial went to the heads of the Houses, not a single one voted in favor of punishment for the Black Hearts. A dead demon can’t use bribes, and more than one file had detailed exactly how Maxime had been in the process of fucking over the Houses.

So, standing in the midst of Concordia’s Great Houses, I watched as every single head voted in favor of Maxime’s guilt. They didn’t even ask where his body had disappeared to, taking Crow at his word that Maxime wouldn’t be causing any more trouble for the city.

I hadn’t asked Crow, either. I suspected that Maxime hadn’t even warranted a grave in Lake Calleis; he was likely moldering in a pit full of sewage somewhere.

When the Houses ordered a dismissal of all charges against the Black Hearts, we walked out into the sun, almost all of us grinning.

I shielded my eyes against the glare, watching as demons crawled over Giraud Tower. It was being deconstructed and leveled, and in its place the Houses had decided on a public park.

But many of Maxime’s shareholders hadn’t been killed in the attack. Weeks prior, with the evidence from Maxime’s office, many of them had been sentenced to life in prison.

Some of these were demons who had abused me, given permission by Maxime; I didn’t say a word in their defense at the trials.

Certain files had been secret at the trials. Those ones were pored over by the heads of Houses in private, and only one demon had given testimony.

They’d honored my wishes to stay anonymous. Maxime, nothing if not meticulous, had actually been fool enough to record every transaction, including my purchase from Rastus Amatoré. One of the files contained that information, along with an expense report on how much it cost to ‘maintain’ me.

I’d hated looking at the report, which made me feel like a zoo animal—he’d even calculated the expenses to feed me—but it had been more than enough to bring down his legacy.

Maxime Giraud, when anyone ever thought of him, would be thought of as no more than a grifter and demon trafficker.

No one asked what had become of Rastus. I never volunteered any information, preferring not to know myself.

I’d firmly shut the door on that era of my life. There was nothing but the future to look forward to now.

And tonight was my initiation into the Black Hearts.

When the sun fell, I climbed onto a bike with Zane, squeezing him tightly and resting my cheek against his back.

“Don’t be nervous,” he said, patting my hands.

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