The Sinners of Saint Amos - Logan Fox Page 0,204

forgotten for a week or two.

Then the cycle begins again.

I’m considering telling them Zachary has to leave.

But he provides for us. Everything we have, it’s because of him. And they’ve moved on already. They truly forgave him in that hospital room.

It’s just me.

Fingers skate down my spine. I spin around, gasping, for some reason expecting it to be Zachary.

But it’s Reuben. Naked. Wet.

My eyes trail over his pecs. His washboard stomach. The thick cock in its bed of dark curls.

“What—”

He grabs my shoulders and presses me against the cool marble wall. Then he swipes hair out of my face, cupping my head in his massive hands.

I think he’s going to say something, but instead he ducks his head and kisses me.

My arms are around his neck a second later. I press my body against his, savoring the feel of his naked skin against mine. He forces his tongue into my mouth, fighting me back when I resist him.

I know what he’s doing. He’s softening me up. Hoping I’ll change my mind about Zach.

And since I like this game, I’ll allow him to play it.

He slides his hand down my stomach and caresses my clit with the tips of his fingers. On cue, I spread my legs, inviting him lower.

But tonight he teases me. The only thing he deepens is his kiss, his fingertips feather soft as they stroke me.

Hot tingles spread through my core. I’m already becoming wet from his touch, and as if he’s reading my mind, he takes away his hand and instead grabs the back of my neck.

I could kiss him for an eternity, but now that he’s stoked a fire inside me, it’s not enough. I need him inside me, filling me, ending the ache he forced on me.

But when I push him away, breaking our kiss, and I stare up into his mesmerizing green eyes, I already know what’s going to happen before I open my mouth.

“Fuck me,” I command him.

His eyes narrow. “Haven’t you learned any manners yet?”

My men are big on manners lately. I can be as demanding as I want in bed, but I have to be polite about it.

But I was set up—again—and that makes me feel rebellious.

I’m ready with another demand, but Rube darts forward and catches my lips with a kiss.

This time he doesn’t hold back.

It’s fierce and it’s controlling and it makes my legs weak.

And he uses that against me. When I sink down, expecting him to grab my ass and haul me up against the wall, he instead breaks our kiss and pushes me to my knees.

“What are you—” is all I get out before he presses his thumb and forefinger into my cheeks, opening my jaw.

And then his cock is sliding into my mouth, already hard, already salty with precum.

He grabs a fistful of my hair and moves my lips up and down his dick.

I would have resisted more, but God I love the sound he makes when I’m sucking him off. I look up at him, and a tremor races through me at the intensity in his eyes. How his jaw bunches like he’s barely able to hold himself back.

But thank the Lord he does, because otherwise I would suffocate. As it is, I can barely fit more than half his cock in my mouth.

“We’ve given you more than enough time,” he says, his voice as tight as the seal of my lips around his dick. “So why won’t you listen to him? Why won’t you even hear him out?”

I hate the fact that they’re taking his side. I guess I haven’t known them as long as they’ve known each other, but you’d think they’d demand he pay for what he did to me.

Slamming my hands into his thighs, I push away from him. Rube relinquishes the grip on my hair just enough so that I can choke out his cock.

“He’s never even said he’s sorry,” I blurt out. “But you want me to forgive him?”

Rube’s eyes narrow. “He’s tried, Trinity. More than once.”

I start to argue, but then Rube shoves his cock back in my mouth.

“Every time he wants to talk, you walk away. Or tell him to go fuck himself. Or decide you need a nap.”

Oh my God. He makes me sound like a spoiled brat. But with each reprimand, his cock is being shoved into my mouth, so I have no choice but to shut up and listen.

“So when I’m done with you,” Rube says, his voice dropping an octave lower, “You’ll