Page 21 of Of Angels & Absolution

“Please fuck you so deep you scream my name for the whole campus to hear?” Angel asks, rocking his hips against mine from behind. I can feel the unforgiving, unflinching iron of his own desire pressing into me like a rod.

“No,” I beg. “Angel, please.”

Spare the rod, spoil the child, I think hysterically as I remember that it’s not just other students watching him open me, show my glistening pink inside for their examination. It’s my friends, as much as I have them, Annabel Lee and Ronique and Manson. I can’t look, so I squeeze my eyes closed, refusing to see their reaction.

“Tell me what you want, lamb,” Angel rumbles in my ear. “Tell me how you like to be fingered until your cum rains down like a blessing on everyone below.”

“Stop,” I beg, my voice catching, my whole body an inferno of shame so unbearable I think my heart will stop beating. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“You want Father Salvatore to do it, don’t you?” he purrs into my ear. “You want him to suck the cum out of your tight little virgin cunt while you cry his name like a benediction.”

“No,” I say on a gasp, but the flood of wetness on his fingers tells the truth when my lips refuse.

“You do,” he says, his voice a tease. “You want to smear this sweet cunt all over his face, ride it until he says you’re forgiven, absolves you of your sin while you drown him in it.”

“I don’t,” I gasp out again, my hips rocking, seeking the blessing and the curse they showed me I’m capable of, the pleasure my body now knows and can never unknow.

“You do,” Angel says firmly. “You want to make a priest fall to his knees and drive his tongue into your tight, wet cunt.You want to bathe and baptize him in it until he’s as lost as you are, little lamb.”

As he speaks, he circles his finger around and around the spot where I need him, refusing to press the pad of his finger to it, to give me the release my body is screaming for.

“Please,” I gasp out, no longer sure what I’m begging for. I’d say anything to get him to release me from this torture of pleasure that spirals higher and higher as he moves his finger lower without giving me satisfaction, now circling the throbbing, hungry entrance where he lodged his tongue last time to plunge me into complete madness. I don’t want that to happen now, in front of the crowd gathered below to watch, but I need it, need it so badly I start to writhe, frantic for him to impale me, fill me, relieve the pressure that’s threatening to rend my soul in two.

“Tell me you want it,” Angel whispers, his hot breath caressing my ear, sending spirals of pleasure still higher inside me. “Tell me you want him as gone for you as all of us, so you can prove this unassuming little pussy can conquer even the fiercest lion, leave a man of god on his knees, whimpering and quivering, as helpless as you are.”

“I do,” I cry, my hips bucking, bearing down, finally finding the tip of his finger. I impale myself ruthlessly, driving his hand down as I slam my hips onto it. He responds by ramming it upwards, tearing a cry from my lips as my head falls back onto his shoulder and I give in.

“Kinky little nympho,” he says, chuckling his approval. “I like it. Now squirt for me, my needy little cum slut.”

I imagine it’s Father Salvatore inside me, his thick manhood stretching me instead of Angel’s second long finger driving deep into my desperate, clenching core.

“That’s it, that’s it,” Heath pants, still on knees at my feet. “Look how fat and red her little clit’s gotten. So big I want tosink my teeth into it and listen to her scream while blood gushes down my throat.”

Angel fucks me hard and fast, without mercy, pumping in and out of me so deep my flesh makes a wet, slippery sound that echoes wetly through the library every time his palm slaps down on the burning mound of shame under it. He grinds the heel of his hand against the very place I need, and my back arches in a helpless bow of ecstasy.

“Yes, baby,” he growls, his solid chest heaving against my back as he presses a finger coated with my slick to my other entrance. “Give me that tight virgin ass too.”

I bear down without question, the ring of muscle as loose and needy as the other entrance, and his slick finger enters with little resistance. He groans into my neck, and his body jerks against mine. The heat of his desire and the deep, masculine rumble of his pleasure electrifies me. My back bows again, my feet leaving the floor, and blackness envelopes me. I can feel my body pulsing and convulsing, quaking from head to toe. A tightness builds and squeezes inside me, painful in its intensity, an ache that throbs and quivers like its own living entity.

“Bring her back,” my brother’s voice rumbles beside us, and I can feel Angel swing around, still holding me. I feel my brother press in close, and the comfort lets me let go, and then I’m lost to everything except waves of pure, erotic bliss for minutes on end.

At long last, I begin to feel tingling in my fingers and toes again, and a raw gash through the center of me, like they’ve ripped into me with more than fingers. But when my eyes flutter open, I’m still in their arms. Saint cradles me from the front, his hands supporting my bottom, and my legs are wrapped around his hips. But he’s still fully clothed, his brow furrowed with concern and his eyes softer than I’ve seen in a long time. Angel is behind me, holding me tight to his chest, one arm drapedforward over my shoulder, his fingers still inside me. They’ve stepped back from the railing, into the stacks, so we’re hidden from everyone’s eyes.

Everyone but Heath, that is.

He stands a few paces off, and for one second, a fraction of a second, he looks like I remember him in his most vulnerable moments, lost and unsure. But when our eyes meet, his mouth twists into a cruel smile. “Mercy’s a freak,” he crows. “She wants to get railed by a priest.”

“Fuck,” Angel groans, dragging his nose up the side of my neck. “I came in my pants. Her asshole is even tighter than her cunt.”

“Let me feel it,” Heath says, bouncing on his toes and giving me a feral, unhinged grin.

“No,” Saint says sharply. “She’s had enough. I’ll take her home. I don’t trust either of you not to fuck her before it’s time.”

seven

The Heathen

“This is bullshit!” I kick the chair across Saint’s spacious, well-lit penthouse suite. It crashes into his desk, where his big, fancy Mac is set up. I don’t care if I break it. I hope I do. I want to break him too, and her, and Angel’s smug face while I’m at it.

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