The Sinners of Saint Amos - Logan Fox Page 0,148

of my jeans at the thought.

And tonight, he can’t back out either.

We have two cherries to pop.

My knife hitches against the hem of her underwear and then travels straight down between her legs. From where I’m sitting, I have the perfect view of her cunt—if she wasn’t wearing these panties.

Trinity sits absolutely still, lips parted, eyes hooded as if in resignation. I pause right above her clit—nothing but a film of fabric between her and the knife. Holding the tip there, I smile at her and slowly drag at my cigarette.

“You keep telling us to stop, but this wet pussy is singing a different tune.”

Her tits quiver when she dares to take a breath. “Please, Zachary. Don’t do this.”

“You’ve changed your mind?”

She swallows and dares to shift. I guess Reuben’s getting harder by the second. That comfy lap ain’t so comfy anymore.

“Yes. I…wanted this but not anymore. So please, let me go.”

“You’re a good liar,” I tell her. “One of the best I’ve met.” I glance at Cass, then at Apollo. “Go on, boys.” I cock my head at her cunt. “Check for yourselves how badly Trinity doesn’t want this.”

Cass wastes no time, and Apollo’s only a beat behind him. They trail their fingers over her thighs while she starts kicking up as much as a fuss as she dares with my knife tip held so close to her clit.

Their fingers trace the plain hem of her underwear before they each sink a hand behind that filmy fabric. They’re both staring at her, as if daring her to look at them, but she’s staring straight at me.

She holds her composure for a second longer, and then her lips start trembling again.

“No, no, no, please, stop, stop!”

But they just keep going.

Their fingers inadvertently lift the fabric up as they pass, sending the tip of the knife slicing through.

Her scandalized gasp could either be for the naked blade now teasing the fuzz above her clit, or those fingers sliding over her wet folds.

Because, from where I’m sitting, I can see she’s soaked right the fuck through.

Betrayed by her own depravity.

Just like us.

Chapter Forty-Four

Trinity

I’m light-headed. Confused. Scared shitless. Naked but for my useless underwear, I’ve never felt this exposed.

Or this turned-on.

As soon as Cass touched me earlier, it was like he’d turned a switch in my brain. Not the part that does the thinking—ha, if only—but the part that controls my body.

Now it’s on automatic.

I can’t control the way I clench deep inside when Cass and Apollo touch me. Or how tingles ripple through me when Zachary scrapes that knife over my underwear.

And now?

I have their fingers smearing my pussy with juices that leaked out of me because somehow—some-fucking-how—it appears that I’m actually enjoying this.

I moan in protest, trying to shift back from their fingers. But that only digs Reuben’s dick deeper against my ass.

“No, please, God.” My moans turn into whimpers when Cass and Apollo dip their heads and start teasing my nipples with their teeth. While their fingers are still stroking my wet pussy.

“Fuck!” I yelp as Cass bites down hard enough to leave faint marks on my breast.

A warm, sweet breath rifles the hair by my ear.

If Zachary hadn’t moved the knife away at just the right moment, I’d have it sticking an inch out of my fucking stomach right now, because without any warning, Reuben sits up straight.

The grip around my throat lessens, but only a little, and then I realize why.

He’s unzipping his pants.

“Reuben, no. Please. Please!” I squirm furiously now that there’s no knife pressed to my fucking clit to stop me.

Zachary lets out a muffled laugh around his cigarette. Cold metal presses against my thigh.

Snick, snick.

Heat flashes over my skin as Cass and Apollo yank off my underwear.

Now there’s nothing shielding me from their eyes. Or the warm, hard, cock Reuben releases from his pants a second later.

“P-please,” I murmur, blubbering like a little girl as I start to struggle.

“Ssh,” he murmurs into my ear. And then kisses my earlobe. The side of my jaw. He slings his arm around the front of my throat, and drags me against him as he sinks back on the coach.

He brings his legs together, and for a second I’m convinced they’ll let me close my legs.

Maybe even let me go.

I mean, fuck, they can’t actually do this, can they?

But you want them to, don’t you? More than anything in the world.

I shove the traitorous thought from my head. I said no a dozen times. I’ve yelled, I’ve screamed, I’ve