Chapter 21
Belle
The room is still for a moment. Silent. Callum’s hand is pressed to my wrists.
Then Rafe palms my stomach, and the flat, warm pressure of his large hand on my bare skin is a key turning in a lock. It anchors me and has my soul vaulting, soaring, all at once.
My gaze is locked on his face, but his is still upturned. His spare hand presses against his heart.
‘Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.’
His fingers splay out further across my skin, his tips pressing in, as if he’s trying to touch as much of me as possible.
‘I am about to dishonour this young woman and, in turn, dishonour You.’
His hand drags upwards.
‘She’s far too beautiful to leave untouched. Far too tempting. Her needs are too great for us to ignore them, however wrong they may be.’
His fingers brush the underside of my breast.
Oh God.
They’re so close to where I need them.
My breath is coming faster. I am Belina, and he is Fr Rafe, and I’m immersed. I’m gone. How is he so good at this?
‘We’re flesh and blood, Father. Weak. We don’t stand a chance around her. Show us Your forgiveness.’
And with that, he shoots me a look so ominous it’s as if he’s damning me to hell for tempting him to sin, to fall, and then he’s lowering his dark head and latching onto one straining nipple as Callum stretches out on the bed and does the same to the other.
The sight of two men suckling at my breasts, at those two dark, tousled heads devouring me, is almost too much on its own. The sensation of it, though? The deep pulls, the draws, the nips and the slick, warm, rolling tongues on my needy little nubs?
That all goes straight to my clit. My clit that they’ve exposed and are now ignoring, and that’s so swollen already I may blow just from this. It’s so good, so intense, so incredibly hot I can barely catch my breath.
This is what I was missing the other night behind that blindfold. I was missing this front-row seat to two men pleasuring me and playing the role of priests dragged to the edge of hell’s abyss by the unknowing siren call of an innocent, oblivious young trainee nun at Mass.
I luxuriate in their touch and allow myself to channel Belina the postulant. Belina who, up until a few minutes ago, knew little conflict beyond the dreams that tormented her in those pre-waking moments and is now lying restrained in her bed as two priests ravish her.
She’s been told to heed her soul, not her flesh.
But in this perfectly torturous moment, her flesh is singing to her so loudly that it’s all she can hear. It’s drowned out God’s voice, and she wants more. More. More.
Rafe’s hand moves back down to my stomach. It edges lower still, and I arch into their mouths’ touch and widen my legs as far as I can.
I need his touch there.
Callum’s touch.
Anyone’s touch.
I don’t care.
Rafe pulls his mouth off my nipple with a wet pop that makes my insides clench and raises his head to look at me.
‘How does that feel, Belina?’
‘Amazing,’ I moan.
‘You have beautiful breasts. Beautiful nipples. They were made to have men’s mouths on them. Not to be hidden under a fucking habit.’
I make a needy noise in the back of my throat.
‘Just like the rest of your body,’ he continues. ‘But we don’t want to push you. Do we, Fr Callum?’
Callum comes up for air and grins at me, and my nipples ache at their abandonment.
‘No,’ he says. ‘Maybe that’s enough for tonight. She’s been such a bad girl already. Perhaps we should leave her here, like this, to contemplate her eternal damnation before she sins anymore.’
Rafe’s teasing fingers brush the decidedly un-nun-like landing strip of my pubic hair, and I buck. They’re so close to where I need his touch.
‘What do you think, Belina?’ he asks. ‘Should we untie you and leave you alone to contemplate what you’ve done already? Or should we help you sin more? Show you what you’re missing?’
I stare up at his dark eyes. At the sharp jut of his jaw, darkened by stubble.
It looks abrasive.
It looks like it could deliver exactly the friction I need so badly right now.
I have no choice over what comes out of my mouth next.
‘I want you to show me, Father.’ I annunciate the words clearly. ‘I want you to defile me.’
Our gazes are locked, my eyes delivering a message as distinct as my words. Two can play at this game. It’s important to me that Rafe knows I have currency in this situation. That I have the power to affect him and Callum even while they’re undoing me.
I want to be completely in their hands. At their mercy. And yet, I also want them eating out of the palm of my hand, too.
Rafe stands and stares at me, his fingers clenching at his sides. Finally, he nods curtly and turns to Callum. ‘You heard her. Time to show her what she’s capable of.’
It seems to me that he walks to the foot of the bed in slow motion.
That, when he climbs onto the bed, and kneels between my legs, and looks down at what he sees there in front of him, time stops.
That the waiting for him to touch me is a particular torture.
And it strikes me that everything is happening on two levels. Even while I’m utterly immersed in this delicious fantasy of being defiled by two hot priests, I’m painfully aware that this is the only format in which I get to be with Rafe.
I’m a virgin. He’s a beautiful, experienced, and most likely debauched sex club owner.
Out there, I don’t stand a chance with a guy like him.
In here, I get to have his eyes on me. His hands. And possibly, hopefully, even his mouth.
I get to be the object of his attention. His desires. Even if only for half an hour.
So sue me if I’m going to give this scene everything I’ve got. If I’m going to hope and wish and pray that I’m not the only one who’s affected.
Callum palms both my breasts, waiting, and I watch Rafe’s eyes on Callum’s hands.
I watch as he presses his lips together before glancing back down at where I lie open for him.
Finally, his finger draws a leisurely trail from my entrance to my clit and back again, and I can tell from the ease with which it moves through my folds that I must be pretty wet.
God, it feels good. Not good. Amazing.
He sucks in a breath. ‘For a little postulant who claims to be the epitome of virtue, you’re soaking for us,’ he says.
The us reminds me how overpowered I am by these two men, and I wouldn’t be surprised if I’m instantly even wetter.
Rafe raises a shapely eyebrow. ‘You like how my fingers feel on your virgin cunt? Or you like knowing we’re both here to play with you to our hearts’ content?’
I moan. If there’s one thing that gets me off, it’s the idea of being men’s plaything. Of having them sample me. Use me for their pleasure. ‘Both,’ I tell him.
Callum’s hands begin to move on my breasts, his palms making just enough contact with my nipples to have them begging for more as Rafe circles my entrance with that finger.
‘There’s no fucking way we let her go after tonight,’ Callum tells Rafe.
‘Nope.’ Rafe pushes his finger inside me with just enough force to feel confronting, and I gasp at the welcome invasion. ‘We’re definitely coming back for more. We should bring some of the others, too. She’s too sweet not to share.’
He adds a thumb to my clit and brushes it so gently it’s agony. The thumb swipes back and forth, but I need more. So much more. I need friction and pressure. I arch my back as much as I can in my restraints, pushing my breasts up into Callum’s palms and my clit against Rafe’s thumb.
Callum laughs. ‘For an innocent little nun, she’s fucking gagging for it.’
‘I knew she’d be like this.’ Rafe’s eyes are fixed on where his thumb’s rubbing me. ‘I knew when I saw her at Mass she belonged on her back like this, her legs open for us and this sweet little pussy begging for us. Next time, we should fuck her. Over and over.’
Oh my God. Oh my God. Yes please. I want nothing more than a line of predatory, nameless priests, mindless with pent-up desire, coming to take their frustrations out on my body in this dim room.
I can’t wait till I’ve got my virginity out of the way and I can make a reality out of the depraved scenes that play in my head.
‘I bet she tastes delicious.’ Callum’s palming becomes decadent, generous pinches and rolls of his fingers over my nipples, and I let out a loud sigh of pleasure.
‘Let’s find out.’ Rafe’s voice is casual as he pulls his finger out and bends closer to the apex of my legs.
He parts my folds with his fingers as he peers at what he sees, and the clinical act of him inspecting me for his own pleasure has desire and shame rolling over me in equally potent waves.
Blood pulses in my exposed flesh, and the mere sensation of his warm breath on me has me threatening to come right there.
‘Please,’ I moan.
‘Please, Father,’ Rafe corrects me.
‘Please, Father.’
He bends right over. His mouth isn’t touching me yet, but he’s so close I can only see the top of his head.
I need him I need him I need him. Callum’s magic hands have whipped my nipples into the tightest, hardest, neediest little peaks, and every touch from him has me more desperate for Rafe’s mouth.
‘You’re about to let a man lick you in a place you were supposed to keep private, Belina.
’ His voice is muffled. ‘A few minutes ago, you told us you were ready to take your vows of poverty, chastity and obedience, and now you’re begging a man of the cloth to put his mouth on you, and lick this pretty pussy of yours roughly, and fuck your tight little cunt with his tongue, and make you scream and writhe and come.
How can you possibly be such a bad girl?
Are you sure you want to commit a mortal sin like this? ’