Page 55 of Of Heathens & Havoc

“Look, it’s getting wet,” Heath crows, starting to laugh again. My face is so hot I think the tears will sizzle when they finally trickle down my temples and soak into my hairline.

Sin—

“Please,” I whimper.

“Don’t worry,” Angel says, flicking my clit lazily with his thumb. “We don’t bite.”

“Speak for yourself,” Heath says. “I want to see her bleed and hear her scream, and if I can’t fuck her tonight, I make no promises about biting.”

“God, I’m dying to taste her,” Angel says. “I’m salivating like a fucking dog here.”

Saint shoves him, knocking his hand from me. “Stop drooling on yourself at the thought of tonguing my sister’s cunt.”

“Not helping,” Angel groans, straightening and rubbing his thumb along his plump lower lip. “When is the master getting here? Maybe he’ll let me lick up the mess she’s making.”

“You are a dog,” Heath says, laughing and dancing around on his toes, the way he does when he can’t contain his energy.

“If wanting her pussy juice all over my face makes me a dog, then fuck yeah, I am,” Angel says. “I can smell how ready she is from here.”

In thought, word, and deed…

He leans down again, bracing his hands on my knees this time, and my whole body goes tense, but heat throbs in my core. He closes his eyes and inhales deep and slow, his nostrils flaring. Then he lets out a long, loud groan. “I’m going to fucking cum in my pants if he doesn’t hurry.”

“Get off her,” Saint says, shoving him aside again. “You’re not supposed to touch.”

“I can’t help it,” Angel protests. “I know she’s your little sister, but damn. She’s so pure. I can’t wait to defile her.”

I have not loved you with my whole heart…

“You’re just jealous because we get to touch and all you can do is watch,” Heath taunts my brother. “Unless you want to touch your sister’s juicy little pussy.”

“Shut up,” Saint growls.

Heath lets out a peel of laughter that echoes through the church again. “Body shots,” he yells, raising the wine bottle into the air. He stands over me, tilting it until a thin stream spills onto my belly. I convulse with a shiver as the cool liquid trickles down my skin, filling my bellybutton and running towards my breasts.

Heath cackles and bends over me. His warm, wet mouth latches onto the skin around my bellybutton, and he slurps loudly before flicking his tongue inside.

I cry out behind the rosary, and he sucks harder, dragging my skin into his mouth and sinking his teeth into the little roll of fat on my lower belly.

Hot tears pour down my temples faster, and my breath catches in an ugly, audible sob.

“That’s enough, Heath,” says a businesslike, echoing voice.

I startle, twisting around in desperation to see a tall man striding down the center aisle between the pews. He’s wearing black robes like the others, but his hands are bare, and his face is covered by the plague doctor mask I saw last time.

A shudder runs through my body, and my knees clench again, trying to close automatically. It’s bad enough that my friends have seen me, but this is a stranger.

The Master.

The one who mastered my body, who didn’t just do things to me, but who made me want it, made me lose control, and let everyone see as I did.

I whimper, tears coming faster, as he stops to dip his fingers in the holy water and cross himself. I know what thosehands have done, the way they violated me, the way they worshipped me. I shiver harder, my whole body trembling now.

“And take that out of her mouth,” he says, climbing the steps and coming around to look down at me with the others. “She’s sacrificing her body for us, not her voice.”

“She was arguing,” Heath protests, replacing his mask and standing.

“Arguing?” asks the doctor, turning to me. “Why would she argue?”

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