I’m staring at Brom, remembering how he hurt me, feeling revenge and cruelty spike through my heart.It’s not just the horseman.It’s not just that he smashed my head into the wall and that he wanted to kill me.It’s that he left me.I know why he left but it still doesn’t stop the pain, the fact that he didn’t think I was worth confiding in, that he still left me when he knew my mother never had my best interests at heart.Never once returned to Sleepy Hollow to tell me the truth, never once sent a letter to let me know he was okay.
Instead he was with this man, this man who is deep inside him, and I have to admit, I’m a little angry at Crane too, because it wasn’t fair that he got to have Brom while they were in New York and I was left behind.I’m jealous that he got Brom during those lost years while I was all alone.
I look at Crane now, the lust deepening his frown, his mouth open in ragged gasps as he continues to thrust into Brom’s backside.Well, if he wants to punish Brom, then I’m not going to stop him.
I’ll help him.
I sidle closer to Crane, making sure Brom can still see me where it counts.
“Touch me,” I say to Crane, swallowing hard.It feels like I’m acting in a play but I have to own it, own this wild energy that’s running through me and claim it as mine.
His eyes flash.He clears his throat.“Ask me nicely.”
This man does not let up.
“Please touch me.”
He reaches out and slides his large hand up my inner thighs, making me shiver at his touch, and lets out a deep groan.
“Christ, Brom, you should feel how wet she is already,” he pants.“She’s dripping down her legs.Do you think it’s all for you or all for me?”
Crane slows down his pace inside Brom as his hand glides up and up my thigh until it’s sliding over my slick surface and I can’t help the soft cry that falls from my open mouth.
“God,” I breathe.
“You know I am,” Crane says through a grunt, simultaneously shoving harder into Brom while starting to pleasure me with his hand.His fingers sink inside me, the movements rough even though there’s barely any resistance, I’m so wet.
There’s something so sinful about this.My family took me to church when I was younger but only to keep up appearances and integrate with Sleepy Hollow’s society.The concept of sin didn’t feel very real when you knew you were a witch, and they’d burn you at the stake if they could.But here, now, as Brom is getting defiled by Crane, while Crane has his long, skillful fingers pumping inside me, as I stand there in front of both of them, exposed and bare, I feel like this was the sin they talked about during the sermons.Something that could lead you down a wicked path from which you’d never return.
I want to go down that path and never look back.
After a life of loss and secrets, I’m choosing to be wicked.
And, my lord, it feels impossibly good.
4
Kat
I let out a breathless moan, adjusting my stance so that Crane can work his fingers in deeper, the slick sound filling the room, and I start to ride his hand like he’s a horse, bearing down and working my hips back and forth.
“Fuck,” Crane mutters, and he suddenly straightens up.He pulls out of Brom, his cock bobbing from the release, so long, thick, and wet that another jolt of lust slams through me.Then he pulls his hand away from me and I let out a soft cry of protest, feeling cold emptiness where his hand should be.
He quickly grabs Brom by the collar and brings him off the desk and to the floor, where he slams him on his knees.He loops the reins around the legs of the desk, and while he does I’m staring down at Brom kneeling before me and avoiding my gaze, his hands tied behind his back, his shirt open and stained red, his nose swollen, the corner of his head trickling blood.
Between his legs his cock juts straight up.It looks painfully hard, the skin shiny from being stretched, the tip glistening withhis arousal, the whole length darkened and twitching with his heartbeat.
There’s a part of me that wants to drop to my knees and supplicate in front of him, place my lips on his cock and lick him clean until he’s releasing inside my mouth.
But the other part, the one that remembers, that one makes me stay in place, keeps me back, even as Crane goes over to Brom and slides his hand over Brom’s gagged mouth and under his nose.
“How does that taste, Brom Bones?”he asks, though he certainly isn’t waiting for a reply.Crane then turns to me, that zealous look in his eyes, one hand on his cock, and I feel lightning in my veins, my toes curling against the floor.
“Strip,” Crane says to me.It’s all command.I know I don’t have to, I know he would never make me do anything I didn’t want to do, but the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes say otherwise.
I obey him, lifting the nightgown over my head.
“Now lie down on the floor, on your back, and spread your legs.”
