Page 36 of The Preachers' Promise
Adrenaline surges through me as I grab the man by the back of his shirt and haul him off Ophelia. I don’t stop there. I keepswinging him around until he collides with the wall opposite. He lets out anoofffof surprise. I know I haven’t done much damage—yet—but my main concern is Ophelia. She’s still face down on the bed, and her pants are halfway down her thighs. Has the son of a bitch raped her?
Her shoulders shake as she cries, and she reaches back to pull her pants up. With relief, I note her panties are still in place, but I doubt they would have stayed that way for much longer. I want to hold her, to tell her she’s safe now and that I’m here, but I still have the motherfucker who was trying to hurt her to deal with.
He’s recovered a little now. The collision with the wall must have dazed him, but, like a bird that’s flown into a window, only to stun itself for a moment, he seems to be coming back around. There’s confusion in his eyes, especially when he clocks my staff uniform but clearly doesn’t recognize the person wearing it.
He takes a couple of staggered steps toward me, but his pants are still halfway down and limit his movements. He seems to have forgotten, and he glances down, as though wondering what’s constricting him. I follow his line of sight and my gaze lands on his erect cock.
Red hot rage flares inside me. This fucker was going to stick his cock inside Ophelia, while she was crying on the bed and he held her down.
In a swift motion, I reach down, freeing the small switch blade from the conceal carry holster I have around my waist, hidden beneath my shirt. I’d worried about the outline being seen, or the use of metal detectors on the way in, but my blade is enhanced ceramic, so it shouldn’t set off any detectors, and, in the eventuality there were none, so my worries had been unfounded.
The blade is small, but wickedly sharp.
This bastard hasn’t even noticed I’m holding it.
He grips his cock and waggles it around. “You ruined my fun. We can always share, you know? Plenty of the scrawny bitch to go around.”
Red edges in on the periphery of my vision, turning the wall behind him a bloody shade. I’m taken back to my childhood when my uncle would make me go into a closet with him so we could have some ‘special’ time together. It’s all I can see. This fucking asshole morphs into my uncle, and the rage bubble inside me explodes. I take a couple of steps closer to the guy, stopping right in front of him.
I don’t want to touch his dick, but I force myself to grab it with one hand. To my disgust, it grows harder in my hand.
“What the fuck?” the guy exclaims. Then his expression changes. “Oh, I get it. You want a piece of the action, huh? I don’t normally swing that way, but I’ll never say no to a hand job. If you use your mouth, even better.”
I’m distantly aware that Ophelia has her clothes back in place and has turned to face us.
“Roman?”
There’s disbelief and shock in her voice, as though she can’t quite trust her own eyes.
“You know this bitch?” the guy says, jerking his head in her direction. He nudges his hips forward, trying to get me to move my hand up and down on his cock. “Look, like I say, I’m happy to share. You can fuck her first, if you want. I like to watch. You can give me a handy while you screw her.”
He pumps his hips again, and his erection slides through my grip. The sensation of the hardness beneath the silk of his skin sickens me, but I hold him tighter.
He blinks. “Careful, dude. You might want to ease up a little.”
Moving my other hand swiftly, I bring the blade up, so the sharp edge meets the underside of his cock, right at the base. Igrit my teeth and hold his dick tight as I slice upward in a swift, vicious motion.
The morphing of expressions on his face is almost comical. They transition from filthy lust, to confusion, to pain, and finally terror as understanding hits him.
I still have a hold on his dick as I remove it from his body and then hold it up for him to see. Blood spurts everywhere, spattering all over his white uniform and mine.
His face is ashen, and his eyes are round with shock, but I see the pain is about to truly hit, and that means he’s going to start making noise. He opens his mouth to scream, so I act fast, shoving his removed cock between his lips and jamming it down his throat. It stifles both his screams and his airways. I push viciously so it goes deep and smirk at my handiwork as he makes the most Godawful sounds around his own dick.
The man staggers back, hitting the wall I’d thrown him against before. Now, instead of staying on his feet, he slides down it, choking on his own cock. His hands flutter around his face and body, as though he doesn’t know whether to cover his crotch to try to stop the bleeding, or stuff his fingers down his throat to try to remove his own dick. Blood continues to spurt, but I don’t pause any longer to see what he decides.
I spin back to Ophelia who is now on her feet, her mouth ajar, her mismatched eyes wide. Her usually pale face is rapidly turning chalk white as her gaze flicks from the man on the floor to me, and back.
“W-w-what—how—?” she stutters. “Oh, God.”
I put my hand out to her, ignoring the blood. “We need to get out of here.”
She flinches and moves back from me as if I’m the bad one in this scenario. I swallow down my anger, calm the adrenaline raging through my veins and soften my tone.
“Ophelia, it’s me, Roman. We’ve got to go.”
With a shaking finger, she points to the man. “Y-y-you cut it off. Oh, my God. I’m going to pass out.”
We don’t have time for her meltdown. It won’t be long until we’re discovered, and I highly doubt my reasoning that he’d been trying to rape Ophelia will be an acceptable one for what I’ve done. I’m not even supposed to be here, and I brought a blade with me. I wish I’d brought my mask, too, so I could hide my face, but it hadn’t gone with my ‘pretend to be one of the staff’ plan.
