“I’m sure you are,” he returned dismissively.
I felt him tug my panties to the side, the only thing I’d worn last night, before testing my readiness with the head of his dick. I was wet for him, but he already knew that.
He slowly pushed inside once he was done teasing me, and he didn’t stop until I’d taken every inch. Still unused to him, he stole my breath even as my legs fell open to make room for him. I felt his mouth skim my neck as he took his time fucking me, and lost in the sensation, I turned my head to kiss him.
As if the war he waged on my body wasn’t enough, he chose to play with my heart as well when he dodged my lips.
“Houston,” I heard myself whine.
I tried to kiss him again, but he continued to elude me. Turning my head away in frustration, I saw the hint of his smile from the corner of my eye and hated him even as I loved what he did to my body.
Houston inevitably picked up the pace, making the bed rock and the headboard slam into the wall as he fucked me harder and deeper under the covers while Loren and Rich slept next to us. I knew I must have worn them out yesterday since they didn’t stir once the entire time Houston fucked me.
We didn’t even try to keep quiet.
If Loren and Rich woke up, I’d let them have a turn too until they were sated, and I was drained of every drop.
I was the whore of Faithful, after all.
The scarlet who’d corrupted good Catholic sons.
The incarnate Hester Prynne who didn’t just stop at one or even two.
I moaned as Houston rose onto his forearm. His other hand then gripped my hip as he wildly slammed his hips against mine with short, brutal thrusts that told me he was close to coming.
Panic and desperation rose inside me even as I cried out from the pleasure.
I wasn’t there yet.
I was close but not as close as him.
It didn’t occur to me the punishment Houston intended to enact until he shoved inside me one last time with a groan as he flooded the condom.
Still breathing hard and seeing the confusion on my face, he quickly leaned down and finally kissed me. I was already wrapping my legs around his waist, eager for round two, when he abruptly ended the kiss. Houston didn’t offer a word of explanation before throwing my legs off him and rising from the bed.
I quickly sat up, holding the covers to my chest as I watched him saunter toward the bathroom while removing the condom from his dick.
He couldn’t be serious.
When he closed the bathroom door behind him, and I heard the lock turn, I realized he had no intention of finishing what he had started. After peeking at Loren and Rich, who were both still sound asleep, I slammed my back onto the bed with a frustrated growl.
I could wake them up, but I couldn’t handle being rejected three times in one morning. I may have deserved it. I may have even loved whenever they used me for their needs, but being here was having the opposite effect.
Suddenly, I was sixteen again and standing on a scaffold.
Instead of the boys whose faces and names I couldn’t remember, it was Houston, Loren, and Rich staring back at me. It was their fingers pointed my way as they forced me to bear all the blame.
My heart rejected the possibility even as the bitter aroma of olive oil assaulted me. Shame was the reason I always stopped myself from talking to them about Rosalie—my reason for joining Bound. It meant revealing everything I’d done and why I was given no choice but to leave home.
Even with five years and hundreds of miles between us, Faithful hadn’t forgotten me.
I didn’t realize Houston and I were no longer the only ones awake until the bed shifted, and the covers were snatched from my body.
There was no time to react before my panties were discarded, my legs pushed open, and a head with hair as dark as black ink fell between them. His warm tongue swiped my wet opening, soothing the soreness there and making me forget my woes. Soon, he began to attack my throbbing clit, bringing back the orgasm Houston had stolen from me as the sweet smell of berries pushed away the shame.
Winding my hips as I pushed my fingers through the gorgeous stands, I tossed my head back and sighed his name.
“Rich.”We sat alone at the back of the quiet church.
Communion had just been given, and after receiving it, the congregation belonging to the Angels of Purity & Faith fell into reflective silence. Houston, Loren, Rich, and I went ignored but not forgotten.
There was only one sweet exception.