Page 51 of Where Sinners Repent

I won’t whisper words of comfort. I don’t have any to offer.

But I can’t seem to stop my hands from smoothing her hair back and staring down at her shivering body. Raw heat radiates off her, sweat dripping down her chest and her taut stomach.

“It hurts,” she whimpers. “It hurts so good, Kai. I’m going to... come!”

A squeal tears from her as her body locks up. A slow orgasm works its way through, shuddering and painful.

“That’s it,” I murmur, surprising even myself. My voice comes out cracked and raw. “One more time for me.” Her eyes squeeze shut. And I reach up to grip her chin, the leather around my glove creaking. “Keep those eyes on me.”

When she opens them, my knees feel like they’ll buckle. My brother might have thought he was ruining her for me. He did the opposite. He stripped her down, tore her apart, and the end result is... breathtaking.

She looks at me as if I don’t scare her. She looks at me like I might be capable of something other than pain. She looks at me like I haven’t earned every nightmare that follows my name.

I can barely stand to look back.

My knuckle slides down her throat, her saliva smearing down her chest with each movement. Down to that tattoo.

Glistening with sweat and spit, the design looks even more disturbing. Her skin jumps under my touch, her oversensitive body reacting to even the lightest of sensations.

Slowly, I crouch down in front of her.

Her cunt is neatly groomed and her arousal is dripping down the toy. First, I turn off the wand, gently ripping the duct tape from her thigh, yet loving the way she cries out in pain.

When I remove the vibration from her clit, she lets out a keening sound full of relief and mourning. Unsure if she wants it gone or needs it there.

My thumb swipes over her swollen clit, just a whisper of a touch and her back arches off the cross, head thrown back on a moan.

Oh, the fucking things I could do to you. The way I could ruin you.

It physically pains me to remove my hand from her cunt and focus on the machine that lazily fucks her. Black silicone shining with her cum.

When the machine cuts off, I pull it away from her core and the building falls silent except for her short breaths.

Her lips are red and raw, pussy stretched from the overuse.

My muscles are stiff by the time I convince myself to stand and not run my tongue over her aching slit.

She needs to stop looking at me like that. Why is she looking at me like that?

“Does it hurt, Roxy?” I murmur, pressing my body against hers.

She hisses as her nipples press against my leather vest, the fresh piercings sending pain through the sensitive flesh.

Her lip trembles, eyes drooping.

My hand comes up to rest around her throat. Not putting pressure, just holding. “I asked you a question.”

Her brows furrow as she tries to hold on to my words. A tear falls past her lashes as she nods.

Good.

“But...” she starts, and I hold my breath, waiting for her answer. “I feel... I feel... warm.”

Her pouty lips twist at the sides, like this is something to smile about. Like we gave her peaceful orgasms in missionary style while whispering sweet nothings in her ear, and not the torture she just endured.

My hands drop to my sides, a slight tremor wracking through them.

It takes me three tries to form the words on my tongue. “Let’s get you home.”