Page 39 of Of Sinners & Salvation
“I’ll never hurt you again,” I promise. “I don’t care if it’s wrong, I don’t care what our parents think. Dante is our father now.”
She nods, hungrily seeking my mouth, her lips bloody and broken but eager for mine.
“What do you want?” I whisper, thumbing a teardrop off her chin—my tears. I don’t care. I don’t even wipe them from my face. I don’t want to stop touching her even for that long.
“Kiss me,” she says, tugging me toward the bed. “I want you to kiss me and never stop.”
thirteen
The Merciless
“Are you sure about this?” Heath asks, sliding a palm over my trembling belly. We’ve been kissing for hours. That’s how long it feels, anyway. After a few minutes of lying on the bed with Saint, Angel joined us.
“I tried to give you time for your reunion, but I can’t resist any longer,” he said, and I threw my arms around him and kissed him too. After a few minutes, he asked if Heath could join, and I nodded eagerly. Now we’re all on the bed, a tangle of mouths and hands and limbs. I can’t get enough. I can’t get enough of any of them. It feels like waking up from a bad dream, a dream of drowning. Realizing the nightmare is over, I’m gulping in great lungfuls of air, tugging at their clothes, kissing and biting and grinding between them.
“Yes, yes,” I say through panting breaths, pushing against Heath’s hand.
“You’re not… I don’t know… Traumatized?” he asks.
“No,” I say. “Do it. Please, Heath. Please. I need you to.”
“Mm, you know I love to hear you beg,” he murmurs, nuzzling my ear and pushing his hips against mine.
While he slides his hand down the front of my shorts, I wrap my arm around my brother’s neck, pulling him in for a deep kiss. I feel no shame, only relief and desire and joy. They found me. They didn’t give up. They didn’t let anything stop them. And now they’re here, in my bed, and Saint is kissing me back, his tongue driving roughly into my mouth, in front of our friends, and a priest, and God. Nothing is between us anymore.
Heath groans when he feels the freshly shaven skin between my legs. He spreads my lips and slides a finger down my drenched slit, grinding his hips against my ass while he teases my entrance. I whimper and squirm, needing him to put it in. I try to pull away to tell him, but Saint grabs my throat, keeping me from breaking our kiss.
Angel kneels up, hooks a finger under my shorts and pulls them aside to watch Heath’s finger. Heath spreads me open, bearing my glistening flesh to Angel and Father Salvatore, who stands near the door, still holding the phone in one hand. He’s not looking at the screen, though. He’s watching me, a feral hunger in his dark eyes that makes my core throb and slickness drench Heath’s finger. He groans and sinks it deep inside me in one slow push.
I moan into Saint’s mouth, my hips bucking.
“Fuck,” Angel groans. He scoots to the foot of the bed, grabs my athletic shorts, and strips then off in one motion. Then he dives between my thighs, latching onto my clit and sucking so hard I see stars. My hips buck wildly, and Heath drags his soaked finger out, then pushes it deep into my tight, puckered hole, leaving my pussy open for Angel. Angel’s tongue plunges into me, curling, dragging out before thrusting back in. I buck against him, my ass flexing around Heath’s finger.
“Fuck, you taste so good,” Angel moans, lapping and slurping at my folds, sucking up my juices.
I finally tear my mouth free of Saint’s, and he latches onto my throat, sucking my skin so hard it burns. I moan in pleasure, writhing between them.
“Father,” I gasp out. “Join us.”
I think he’ll refuse, but after a pause, he approaches the bed. His gaze rakes down my flushed body, settling between my thighs, where Angel has settled on my clit, suckling with gentle strokes that make my hips spasm and jerk.
“Put your fingers in her cunt,” he says. “Heath, you can add another in her ass. She can take two.”
Heath groans and obeys, working a second finger in, pumping them in and out while Angel pushes two fingers deep into me. I gasp in pleasure and pain, my chest heaving with my ragged breaths. Saint drags down the top of my bra and latches onto my nipple. He sucks hard, and I cry out. He bares my other breast for the priest to admire, kneading my flesh and tugging at my peaked nipple. The sight of the father standing over us, ordering this most delicious of sins, pushes me over the edge. My lips fall open in silent ecstasy as my hips buck, and a deep pain builds in my groin.
“Wait,” I cry, not sure what’s happening for a second. Instead of stopping, Angel pumps his fingers harder, driving them deep while he drags his tongue up through my slip, over my clit, then drags his teeth down over it. The pressure that was building inside me erupts, and my thighs quake with helpless spasms as blackness swims over my vision and liquid spurts out of me, sprinkling down over my bare skin, the boys, and the bed.
My toes curl, and my back bows, and my core clenches and clenches as my entire body shakes violently between them.
I’m only halfway aware of Father Salvatore swiping his thumb through the liquid. He swipes it over Saint’s forehead.
“The blessing of her body upon you,” he murmurs, then repeats the gesture to Heath.
Angel finally relents, ducking from between my thighs while the father blesses him.
“You may drink from her sacred waters,” he says, and the next second, I’m alone on the bed. And then they’re rolling me over, and both Heath and Saint are between my legs. Their tongues torment me in tandem, and I’m so sore and tender I whimper and then cry out, my hands fisting the sheets.
“You can take it,” Father assures me gently, sitting on the bed and stroking my hair back from my sweaty, damp brow. “Would you like them to have pleasure as well?”
