Page 111 of Beautiful Sinners

“Tá mé i ngrá leat.” His piercings scraped my throat raw, and it came out raspy and quiet, but he heard it.

“Love you more, baby girl. I’m going to undo the ropes. Con, hold her.”

The tension on my right arm releases, followed by my left, but with Constantine’s grip on my hips, I thankfully don’t fall forward on my face.

Hendrix rubs circulation back into my hands, but my arms are dead weight and flop to my sides when Constantine turns me over and lays me on the bed. Settling on top of me, he combs through the sweaty strands of my hair, and I become enthralled by the deep abyss of his gaze.

“Hi.”

His mouth quirks. “Hey, sweet girl.”

Our fingers thread and hold, and he raises our joined hands above my head. I tip my face back and smile at Hendrix, who is watching from the foot of the bed while stroking his beautifully inked cock. Damn, that’s hot.

Returning my attention to Constantine, I whisper, “Love me.”

“Always.”

Wrapping my legs around his waist, I welcome him inside me once again. My heart pounds wildly in my chest at the feel of him. Warm. Solid.Mine.

Our sweat-slicked bodies melt together then tear apart. Constantine makes love to me slowly, spending long, wonderful moments kissing my lips, my breasts, my face. Our fingers untangle, and his hands brush along my curves. Every nerve ending lights up under his touch. When the next orgasm takes me, it doesn’t come as an explosion but in gentle waves that are never-ending.

“Happy?”

“Very,” I reply and sigh into his kiss.

However, there is one more man I need before I feel complete.

“Boston?”

When Tristan takes Constantine’s place, I know there will be no gentle or slow. His eyes burn whiskey fire as his full lips find their way up my body, exploring every inch of me until I’m consumed by him.

Heat radiates through my skin as he plays with my belly chain. “We’re going to fuck you in every way imaginable so you know exactly who you belong to.”

His lips capture mine, his tongue slipping inside, claiming, devouring. I grope his ass, pulling him to me, and shout my elation when his thick cock thrusts deep.

I lose all sense of reality as they take me again and again. By the time we collapse in a heap on the bed, my jaw aches, my clit throbs, and I’m sore in a way that I’m sure I won’t be able to move for days. I’ve never been happier in my entire life.

CHAPTER 38

“Shut the fuck up!” the man snarls in my face, his spit splashing across my nose and mouth.

A harsh hand grips my long hair and wrenches my head back. I couldn’t look anymore as the man, the other one with a jagged red line down the left side of his face, defiled my mother in the cruelest of ways.

When my eyes find her again, her body is unnaturally contorted, bent at an odd angle on the living room’s red floral Chateau rug. Her head is turned in my direction, her once beautiful, clover-green irises are black, like a doll’s soulless eyes. I think she’s dead.

They already killed Papa. They killed him first. And I’m next.

Because the Society demands it. That’s what the guy with the constellations drawn on his neck said right before he shot my father in the head.

A strange odor, both acrid and sweet, assaults my nose, but I’m not able to process it over the searing pain of the knife being shoved in my side. The pain comes again and again, each time hurting a little less until there’s no pain at all.

I come awake gasping.

Cupping a hand over my eyes, I count backward from ten and try to breathe in more than a shallow, panted breath.

I hate having to relive what happened over and over again every time I close my fucking eyes. The sounds of my screams. The feel of the blade as the man plunges his knife deep into my side. The smell of smoke and burned skin.

Turning my head, I stare at Constantine’s slumbering face and watch his chest rise and fall with his slow, even breaths. My safe place. My comfort.

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