The Sinners of Saint Amos - Logan Fox Page 0,213

mean, he barely even flinches—but it’s enough to make him reconsider his position on BDSM.

He pats her with the belt.

Christ. I can’t even.

“She’s supposed to feel it, jack ass,” I tell him.

Apollo looks up at me, cringes a little, and whacks her again. This time at least hard enough to leave a faint mark.

She lets out a little sigh, and promptly lays her head on Zach’s thigh, an inch away from his dick.

Which isn’t so flaccid anymore.

“Do you want him to hit me harder?” she whispers, looking up at Zachary.

All he does is groan, and then shift like he wants to get off the bed.

Rube and I move in unison. We each grab one of Zach’s shoulders and slam him back into the headboard hard enough to rattle it against the wall.

He sends us both an angry scowl, but settles down when Trinity moves a little closer, nestling between his legs like a sleepy cat.

From the way her head’s positioned, I’m sure Zach can feel every breath on his dick.

God, and here I thought she was torturing us? Zach’s got the best fucking view in the house, but he can’t touch her, can’t move…and worst of all, he’s not the one holding the belt.

A powerless sadist.

I fucking love it.

And maybe that means I have a touch of sadism in me too, because I’m getting hard from the tortured look on his face.

Apollo belts her again.

Trinity puffs out a sigh.

Zach groans and presses his eyes closed.

“Watch,” Rube says, his other hand going around Zach’s throat.

I wouldn’t call Rube violent—not in the slightest—but he does have a thing with necks. I don’t even want to go there, because I don’t know if it’s something related to his time in the basement, or a kink he picked up along the way.

It’s also the only thing that Zach seems to respond to. And maybe that’s the sole reason Rube does it.

Thwack.

I stare down at Trinity, at the look of rapture on her face, and I know she’s not faking. The moment I set foot in her tiny room at Saint Amos, I knew she was a freak.

I bust in there, and she looked up at me like I’d opened God’s bedroom window. But I get that a lot. And that’s not what did it for me. I knew the second I threw her up against that closet door that she was hot for me.

Not like she was one step away from spreading her legs or anything. It was more…subtle than that. It was the way she looked at my mouth, how her breath turned into a little pant. Like she was terrified of what I was about to do to her…but she couldn’t wait for me to start.

She loved what the four of us did to her the day we took her virginity. She flourished under our hands and our mouths and our cocks like a fern unfurling after the snow melts.

Now she’s here, eyes fluttering as Apollo leaves stripes on her ass, and it’s perfect.

Everything about this moment is perfect.

I don’t know how long it will stay this way…but I’ll be praying every night that it’s forever.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Rube

It’s like I snap out of a trance when Trinity murmurs, “Stop.”

Apollo lets up immediately. I don’t think he got in more than eight or so shots, but every blow to Trinity’s ass was torture for me, so I can’t imagine what he was going through.

I wanted to stop him. I wanted to grab her and wrap my arms around her and then fuck up everyone who’d been watching and not helping her escape that belt.

But she wanted this.

And I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about that.

Apollo’s chest rises and falls as he looks up at us each in turn, like he’s also just waking up. He drops the belt and moves away, eyes widening when he sees his own hard dick.

Why is he so surprised? No mortal man could have heard the sounds Trinity made and not have a fucking hard-on. We’re all hard—even Zach.

I expect her to start sucking his cock. She was teasing him the entire time anyway, she might as well. I’d be happy to watch.

But then she pushes up onto her hands and knees, and turns to look at me. Her eyes are a dark bronze, her cheeks flushed, her lips gleaming. She licks them, and I quickly focus on her eyes again, like she’d caught me watching porn.

“Do you want to fuck me?” she asks, voice breathy, unsteady.

I