Page 77 of Buried Beneath Sin

My hips come up off the mattress as I thrust my hard cock upward, needing more than the lazy way in which Sagan strokes me. His tongue rims me before plunging deep into my ass. My groaning grows louder. The sound earns me a few faster pumps.

“Fuck, Sagan,yes,” I gasp out.

Even as I enjoy the way he works me up, internally I feel a pang of guilt.

I’m turned on because of the dream I had. Of a young woman who barely speaks, can’t meet my eyes ninety percent of the time, and… and whose moans are as seductive as that of a siren’s song. I can hear her muffled sounds of pleasure on repeat if I close my eyes tight enough and focus.

I can almost smell her alluring musk this way too. I’m no stranger to a woman’s pussy. No more than I am to a guy’s dick. I’ve had my fair share of both, and I’ve enjoyed them. But Beatrix? Between her legs I felt like a pirate who found hidden treasure, a prince who was just crowned king, hell… I’m pretty sure, as Beatrix rode my face, I almost grew wings. Just thinking about her now makes me harder than ever.

Which leaves me feeling strangely conflicted.

I don’t like having to share the Hunt twins with her. I’ve let Beatrix believe I can’t trust her, but privately I can admit to myself that it is jealousy that makes me feel the need to remind her that I can crush her at a moment’s notice. I’m a dick, so sue me. Yet seeing her between the guys last night? Jealousy was farfrom what I was feeling. My cock had grown so hard, so fast, I feared it would crack.

Between images of Beatrix Starr trapped, whimpering and crying between the twins, and Sagan’s mouth, my release creeps forward.

Sagan pulls his mouth away from my back door only so that he can deepthroat my cock. The strangled moan from my lips is loud. When he swallows, his throat squeezes around my dick so tight I groan at the exquisite sensation. I cry out then gasp.

“Sagan, I’m not going to last. Fuck,” I hiss as I wiggle around while the heat in my body mounts.

One of his hands comes up and massages my balls, the other sliding between my asscheeks to probe at my saliva-covered asshole. His finger slips in, not easily, but the friction there sends me over the edge.

“FUCK,” I shout as I find my release.

Sagan pulls back, not one who’s into swallowing. My cum lands on my stomach and coats Sagan’s hand while he fists and pumps my twitching cock. With his other hand, he scoops up the mess and covers his own erection.

“Turn over, face in the pillow, ass up,” he orders when I’m spent.

My body complies immediately while mentally I continue to reel from my orgasm. I roll onto my stomach, pull my knees beneath my body, and lift my hips. Sagan’s fingers dig into me as he jerks my hips back toward him. He’s not gentle as he works his thick cock into my ass with steady determination. The pain is magnificent but it always is when it comes to Sagan. There’s no preamble or sweet kisses from this twin. Hell, just getting him to use lube of any kind is a feat. But I love it. I love how Sagan pushes me to my limits and then some. Is this how Beatrix felt when the twins impaled her last night? I’m sure it was close.Watching her squirm and cry, stuck somewhere between agony and ecstasy, was so fucking hot.

My dick doesn’t soften as I close my eyes and replay the emotions that had flickered across Beatrix’s face.

In fact, my balls tingle with warning. What’s this? Another orgasm? Impossible. It usually takes me a few minutes to get back to that special spot where I can cum again. But judging by the way my balls tense up and my cock throbs, that may not be the case this morning.

Sagan bottoms out inside me and I choke at the fullness.

“Come on, Pretty Boy, let me hear you scream,” Sagan snarls.

Shit, I know what that means. I stiffen, ready to sit up, but suddenly Sagan’s palms land on my back. The world goes black as agony wipes away my sanity. The image of Beatrix behind my closed eyelids vanishes as my painful past comes surging forward, obliterating away all enjoyment from this moment.

My scream is loud and is chased by Sagan’s dark laughter as he begins a harsh, unrelenting fucking of my ass. His hands slide down my sides and then back up my spine. I hate it. I hate every fucking inch of where his hands are. His palms are burning me, shearing through my flesh like a hot iron. My screaming grows louder, and I start to pull away—unable to deal with the pain any longer or the memories that surge forward. Sagan doesn’t allow me to escape. A hand wraps around the back of my neck as the other stokes down my side. I’m drowning. I can’t breathe. This isn’t like in my dream. The lack of oxygen now is terrifying. I’m going die. I can’t do this.

I don’t realize I’m still screaming until a sharp pain from a smack on the ass causes me to drag in a deep breath. As I suck in air, Sagan grabs both my hips, pulls me back against him, and then cums hard. I can feel his cock twitch as he fills me up.

My heady groan of relief is weak sounding and muffled further by my pillow.

When Sagan pulls out of me, I collapse onto the new mattress I’d forced him to buy me yesterday on his lunch break.

“Get up, you can’t sleep in anymore. You have a job now,” he orders. I can feel the dip of the mattress as he moves to climb out of bed.

I groan before I turn my head to watch the Hunt twin saunter over to my bedroom door. “Get up? What time is it?”

Sagan’s dressed, not having bothered to remove his clothes before climbing into bed and fucking me. Asshole. He’s wearing black slacks that are tailored to his body perfectly, thanks to yours truly demanding he havesomethingnice in his wardrobe, and a black crew knit sweater that emphasizes his strong shoulders.

Usually I hate the color black, but Sagan wears it well.

My mind turns to the black romper Beatrix wore the day we came to commandeer her life and everything in it. I have to admit, black looks good on her as well.

“Seven. The others are already down at the funeral home working. We need to start leaving at the same time?—”