Page 4 of The Devil's Bargain
They were certainly good enough to break into an old computer like the one used by the main office of the orphanage. Especially considering Sister Grace’s password was still the same as it had been eight years ago.
He’d done it on a whim, his conscience urging him not to abuse his power, even as he’d snuck into the building and planted the device onto hers. Even as he’d returned to the hover car he’d parked down the street, safely out of sight, and had pulled out his holopad.
There’d been a moment at the party, just as he was fleeing the scene, where he’d thought he saw the back of a familiar head stumble out of the building. The woman had been wearing a mask, same as everyone else, but the way she’d moved…Cal had been hopped up on whatever drug they’d fed them there, so there was a good chance he was reading into things. But he’d had to know for sure.
Had to assuage those doubts.
He was sure he’d been mistaken.
But there it was. Proof in the form of an email.
The date, theme, and what he assumed was the address of the party were all written in it and addressed to her.
To Sister Grace, the woman who’d brought him up.
The woman who’d beaten a sense of self-loathing into him.
Who’d made him think all his life that there was something wrong with him.
May the gods have mercy onhissoul.
On his soul.
Not hers.
Never hers.
May the gods…
* * *
“…burn…in…hell…” Calix came out of the dream already speaking, uttering the words on autopilot. He didn’t notice. Didn’t know where he was or what he was doing, only that there was a throbbing pain all over and a rush of accompanying euphoria the likes of which he’d never felt before. “…hope she burns…”
“What was that?” a voice, familiar and out of breath, spoke directly against the curve of Calix’s ear, causing him to flinch.
He moaned and turned his head away, whimpering when the pain got sharper.
“Don’t reject me, Be’urn,” the voice coaxed. “Close contact helps with the pain. We’re solidifying the bond. You’re confused and out of it right now. Your mind isn’t in the right place. It’s okay. We’ve got you.”
Calix shook his head, not comprehending. The room was dim and he couldn’t make anything out other than shapes and shadows. He could tell something wasn’t right, but couldn’t say what, only that he was uncomfortable and it was hard to breathe. Something heavy held him down, crushing his chest, and between his legs—
“Don’t…stop.” Weakly, his hands lifted, and he grabbed onto firm hips.
“We won’t,” a new voice reassured, and Calix blinked against the fog, noticing finally that there were two of them there. Another dark shape hovered above the first, Mercy’s murky features only just coming into focus before he gave a hard thrust of his hips and sent Calix’s mind shattering all over again.
Where was he?
What was going on?
The pain was…odd, almost smothering him, yet the pure bliss that accompanied it made all of his nerve endings feel like they were misfiring. With a start, he realized he was coming, his dick twitching and emptying against the body draped over his.
“That’s number seven,” Aodhan—it was Aodhan—whispered in a gravelly tone, sentence ending on a groan when he found his own release. His hips went still, but the movements didn’t let up, and he whined as he was pushed into overstimulation by the man controlling them both.
Mercy had his cock buried in Aodhan’s hole.
Aodhan had his cock buried in Cal’s.
“Hold on,” Calix managed to find his voice again, but he wasn’t really sure what he was asking for or why.
