Page 104 of Our Sins in Shadows (Coven of Sin 2)

“I already told you,” the fallen priest said on a sharp whisper, his every syllable fraught with warning. “I’m the one who fucks her tonight. Your turn is tomorrow. Besides, she’s the one who decides when the implant comes out. There will be no seducing her into it. Don’t mention it again until she does. Is that clear, Deathwish?”

Sterling put an emphasis on Eros’ nickname, standing out as a warning. Another one of his puns.

The tension in the tower was so hot and thick, I could almost taste it.

“Yeah,” Eros replied on a delay that made Sterling’s white eyes narrow. “Crystal clear, boss.”

Sterling released his brother, a smile easing the edges of Sterling’s dominant demeanor. “Splendid. Let’s continue.”

Eros’ hand disappeared into his black box of mystery, reappearing a second later clutching a roll of thick nylon fabric. He spread the roll out on the bed beside me. The nefarious way his lips peeled into a fang-filled smirk made my stomach twist with an interesting combination of fear and lust. I turned my head to watch him arrange the contents of the tool pouch. My breath turned fast and frantic when I took in the sinister-looking tools that glinted malevolently in the moonlight.

The steel instruments almost looked like surgical tools by how slender and delicate they appeared. I couldn’t even begin to guess what they were for. By the long forceps with razor-sharp tips, I knew without a doubt they weren’t sex toys.

“What the fuck are those for? Those better not be going inside me. Gotta call that a hard limit, Eros.”

“These are not going inside you,” Deathwish snickered as he laid out a small bottle of liquid, cotton swabs, a container of Vaseline, and a plastic case that rattled as if filled with small metal pieces. “I’m going to give you a few piercings.”

I gaped at him, surprised by how tame that was compared to the dark deeds my twisted mind had imagined. Intrigue roiled through me, making my toes curl into Sterling’s sheets. “Like your face piercings?”

“Yeah. Kinda.” There was almost a snicker in his reply. “Thought it might be up your alley, considering your style. But if you’re not into it, I’ll find some other way to please my little masochist.”

“I want to,” I blurted, almost a little too hastily.

Eros’ piercings flashed with his smirk as he glanced across the bed at his brother. “Told you she’d be into it.”

Sterling canted his head, the barest ghost of a smile lurking at the corner of his mouth. “You haven’t told her where you’d like to do it.”

Eros’ hand reached to my breast and pinched my nipple. The sensitive nub hardened into a peak. My excitement heightened, my whole body buzzing with the fact that I could now feel his touch, even if it was faint.

“I’m gonna pierce your nipples.” When he gave the sensitive nub of flesh a hard flick, he purred at the way I jerked with a small gasp. “Piercing you with my metal is gonna be hot as fuck. And just a little painful. But I know you like pain, don’t you, fuck doll?”

I gave another nod of enthusiastic approval.

Sterling’s brows pinched with concentration, absorbing the way Eros spoke and handled me, drawing in the level of my pleasure by my scent and the soft whimpers I made. He strode around the bed and reached into the case. His expression smoothed out in surprise at whatever it was he found inside. “You brought so many. Why?”

“Because what’s life without a bit of variety, old man?”

The Elder vampire began to unpack vibrator after vibrator, all different shapes and sizes, from the case. I lost count of how many, my mind turning to rubber as I realized Eros would be the warden over my pain tonight, and Sterling over my pleasure.

Eros climbed onto the bed and put himself into a position where he straddled my waist. My awe-stricken face at the man on top of me had to be something akin to a moth caught in a flame’s light, mesmerized and only seconds from her own sweet destruction. “Look at you. Your pussy’s already wet and ready for our priest, isn’t it? I can scent it, practically begging for him.”

Sterling laid out the sex toys below the piercing equipment and got into position at the foot of the bed. His cool fingers curved beneath my calf and spread my legs wide for him. I couldn’t see him behind Eros, meaning the shit that was about to go down below my belt line was going to come as a surprise until I felt it.

“This is what’s going to happen,” Eros instructed. “I’m going to clean and measure the puncture site. Then I’m going to pierce you. I’ll be slow, and I’ll make it hurt. While I do this, Ster’s gonna play with your pussy, and he’s going to make it pleasurable. We’ll take baby steps with this and kick up the intensity as we go. When we ask for a number, you tell us on a scale of one to ten how much you’re feeling. Understand?”

I nodded. My breath froze in my lungs when a gloved hand seized my chin, holding my head steady. “Tell me with your words, fuck doll. Tell me you understand.”

“I understand, Deathwish.” I barely managed to push out my response. My tongue had gone noodle limp with mind-numbing lust the moment I felt Sterling crouched between the cradle of my thighs.

“That’s a good girl.” He reached for the bottle of liquid and cotton swabs. “Now, let’s get this show started.”

Chapter forty-three

Painful Pleasures

Thewistfulresonanceofthe piano melody made for a stark contrast to the diabolical tools that flashed in the pallid moonlight from where they laid beside my head. My gaze ran over the cruel-looking assortment of equipment as Eros cleaned my nipples. It almost seemed silly to observe such practices, considering we were vampires with freakish regeneration abilities. Things like infections weren’t a concern for us. Then again, as my thoughts stretched down to my depraved mate’s den, I recalled how sterile he’d kept his tools and his space. He preferred his possessions clean, and I guess those same preferences extended to me.

The notion of being owned by Deathwish—the prized piece in his collection of violent weapons—made me shiver in carnal delight beneath his gloved fingertips. None of them owned me, as much as Vincent liked to pretend he did. And I didn’t own them. We were a partnership. We needed one another. Each of them had become an extension of me, like an organ or a limb. And while wrapped around them in their beds, they owned a piece of me, and I owned a piece of them.

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