Page 116 of Entombed In Sin

He chuckles darkly. “Says the one who took forever to get here. Did your wheelchair get a flat tire?”

I shove at his shoulder, and he snickers as he stumbles. When he rights himself, we both head for the opening.

Grabbing the handle, I fling the door open the rest of the way. “I’m pretty sure I’m now making it into the building first.”

Without waiting for a response, I step into a backroom of some old business. It’s dark in here but not pitch black thanks to the battery-powered lantern sitting on a stack of old plastic crates. I move toward it. As I approach, I notice what’s sitting beside it and can’t help but let out a bark of laughter. I swipe the small bottle before continuing past the crates and the light. The door on the far side of the room calling my name.

I can feel Sagan’s presence behind me as we stalk toward where our stepsister is hiding. I push open the next door, ready to continue, but my steps falter before I come to a complete halt just a few feet inside the wide open space. Sagan comes up beside me but freezes just as suddenly as I have as we’re confronted with our Beatrix’s latest game.

At some point, this must’ve been a warehouse for clothes. The mannequins are the biggest clue to that theory. There has to be twenty of them in total. They’ve been torn apart at the waist, their upper halves sitting in folding chairs that are arranged in four rows facing a makeshift runway.

Upon a second sweep around the space, I notice that sitting between the mannequins are real people. They sit there, ramrod straight, staring ahead of them. I count four in total. Their throats are slit and each head rests at an odd angle. To keep eachbody upright, a rope has been tied around the waist and to the back of the chair.

I follow the audience’s gaze to the runway. There’s a red runner laid out on the dusty floor. It’s not long, but it provides just enough room for four battery-powered lanterns, two sitting on either side, to rest and give the runway a sophisticated vibe I’m sure Beatrix was looking for. A soft yet deep, thumping bass fills the space and strobe lights are coming from one of their phones that’s sitting in the lap of a mannequin up front.

And at the end of the runway are my two favorite people.

Knox is standing at the end of the makeshift runway wearing six-inch gold heels, a navy-blue formal gown covered in sequins, and a face full of dark makeup. His head is thrown back, his eyes are closed, and his chest heaves. The light from the lanterns throws shadows over his face and body, giving him an almost ethereal look. Between his parted legs, the dress has been pushed up and Beatrix is on her knees, blowing him in front of their audience. Her hands are currently sliding up his thighs before they skim over his stomach.

Knox’s loud groan is followed by a full-body shudder. When he relaxes, he lets out a breathy sigh.

“I love how you play with me,” Knox squeezes out between clenched teeth. His hands cup her face as he jerks his head down to look at the topless woman between his legs. “I’m the luckiest toy.”

“Fuck, they’re going to be the death of me,” Sagan growls, snapping out his shock before me. He stomps past me, making a beeline for the two giving everyone a show.

I follow slowly behind. My dick is growing so hard, so fast at the sight of Knox and Beatrix performing in front of their fucked up little audience that I’m feeling a bit lightheaded. I grow even harder when I realize Beatrix’s hand is in her pants as she attempts to get herself off. As I approach, I pull off my black ballcap and toss it to the ground. My black leather gloves, covered in drying blood, are next. By the time my leather jacket hits the ground, Sagan’s disrobed down to his bare chest, his pants already undone.

Knox’s head jerks toward the sound of feet moving toward him, eye sharpening as he searches for the source. The tension gathering in his shoulders ebbs away when his gaze lands on us. Inwardly, I smile. Knox might be enjoying the attention, but he’s not slacking when it comes to watching over the woman on her knees before him.

“You guys arrived just in time,” Knox announces as I approach the two of them. “I’m about to blow my fucking load all over your sister’s pretty fucking tits.”

Ah, that explains why Beatrix is wearing only her bra and pants right now.

Sagan comes up on one side of Knox while I approach the other. I cup the back of his neck with a biting grip and force him to tilt his head to the side. Leaning forward, I press my lips against his neck. Knox sighs happily and repeats the sound when I begin to trail kisses along the column of his neck. I can feel his slight tremor as I make it to the sensitive part just beneath his ear on my way back up.

“Fuck, Beatrix… I’m not going to last,” Knox gasps.

“Yes you are,” I growl into his ear before I bite at it. “Because we want to play with our sister and her pretty toy.”

Knox yelps as I draw blood. I pull away with a dark chuckle just as Sagan reaches down, fists a handful of Beatrix’s hair, and yanks her off of Knox. Almost in unison, Knox and Beatrix let out disappointed whines. With her hair free from her typical braids, swollen lips, and eyes slightly glazed from being blood drunk, Beatrix looks absolutely enthralling.

“Quit your whining, Little Viper,” Sagan orders darkly.

Instead of listening, her bottom lip juts out as she crosses her arms over her chest. “I was busy.”

“I need you to be able to multitask for me tonight, pet. I’ll let you get right back to playing with your doll but while you do…” Sagan grins as he lets go of Beatrix to undo his fly. “I’m going to fuck you. I bet your pussy is so fucking wet right now, isn’t it? I know how much you love playing with your toy.”

“She sure is,” Knox assures him. “I had to fuck her between wardrobe changes. She’s been so fucking good to me. She’s like a goddamn slip n’ slide.”

A hard shiver rocks my body. Just thinking about the mess between her legs makes me hard enough to see stars. I step behind Knox, unable to stop myself. My hands come up and my fingers curl around the neckline of the dress. Before he can stop me, I rip it away from his body.

Over the sound of fabric ripping and Knox’s whine of disappointment that I’m running his outfit, I manage to spit out, “Our sister is going to be fuckingfilthyfor you, brother.”

Sagan shoots Knox a look. It sits somewhere between pleased and jealous while he sinks to his knees. “Couldn’t resist performing in front of your adoring fans?”

I pull out my hard dick once I have access to Knox’s ass. Immediately he tilts his hips back for me like a well-trained dog, and one of his hands moves to stroke his dick. I grab his hip with a trembling hand. Lube… where the fuck is the lube? I glance down at the small bottle I unknowingly dropped in my hurry to close the distance between us. It’s at least three feet away.

“They aren’t just the audience, they’re my friends,” Beatrix corrects. “I wanted to show off my toy to them. You know, to make them jealous of me.”

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