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He lowers me onto the altar. There’s no comfort from the hard stone. It makes me gasp, that contrast between flesh and cold. He shifts me until I’m positioned exactly as he wants, lying back with my body curved along the contour of the stone.

Then he spreads my legs apart.

Heat rises into my chest as shyness blooms where I’ve tried to stop it. I can’t see him, but he’s close. His hair brushes my thighs, and I flinch, caught between nerves and anticipation. Then his mouth touches the place where he marked me. His warm tongue traces over the E etched into my skin, then flattens against my pussy.

I’m afraid to lean into the pleasure, trained to expect pain in this chamber. But he doesn’t hurt me. His attention becomes a declaration, telling everyone who watches that I’m his. I’m cherished.

His mouth moves over me, tasting me in a way that says what I have is more delicious than the most decadent meal. I press my lips together to keep quiet, but a sound still slips out. A small, helpless whimper. A moan.

My hands search for somewhere to go, finding his hair, fingers threading into it, pulling his lips to my clit. Everyone watching disappears from my mind. My focus is on the way he makes my body feel. The way his hands push on my thighs to hold me open as they start to tremble.

He brings me right up to the edge, letting me believe I’m about to fall over, then pulls back. I’m left frustrated, suspended in need with this terrible ache to cum. Even blindfolded, his satisfaction is obvious.

Then I feel him again, the press of his body, the weight of him aligning with mine as he stands at the edge of the altar. His cock pushes against my pussy.

I exhale with relief, knowing I’ll get what I want. My knees pull back, giving him more access, and his cock fills me perfectly, deep, pushing in more even when it seems he can’t go any farther. That single point of connection is all I can feel.

My body relaxes into him as he stays buried there, keeping me stretched around him. He rubs my clit as he fucks me, bringing me back to that edge before denying me again, and the ache becomes almost unbearable.

His hand roams up my stomach, over my rocking breasts, then circles my neck. My pulse jumps beneath his fingers. The pressure is firm enough to steal my air, to make the world tighten into something I should fear. Instead, my body yields.

Control makes my mind quiet. It steals the choice from me, and though that should feel wrong, it brings relief. I’ve been holding myself upright for so long that being held down is a release of tension. In the dark, with his hand at my throat and his body anchoring mine, I stop trying to be good or pure. I’m just his.

Not ten feet away, I hear Bridget and Patrick. A muffled sound of movement. Her overly enthusiastic cries.

But it all fades to somewhere distant as Edwin squeezes. My breath gets trapped in my throat altogether. I keep my hands down, grabbing the sides of the altar at my hips.

He eases up, letting air return to me, and my lungs drag it in greedily as he pulls out of my pussy. I let out a whine, needing his cock inside me, but he only gives me his fingers.

My body trembles from the intensity of not knowing what he’ll do before he does it. Blindness makes every second seem longer. Every brush of his hand sends a surge of energy through me.

Then his intention shifts. He drags my wetness down, rubbing it around my asshole, pushing some inside. I tense up from head to toe. My hands reach out in the darkness for him, hoping I can change his mind. He lets me hold on to his hand while the other rubs my clit to soothe me. He knows I’m afraid and still expects me to continue.

“Edwin…” I whisper in a shaky protest.

It’s not the pain I’m worried about. It’s doing something so dirty, so incredibly vulnerable with all these witnesses. And being judged for it, no less.

“It’s okay, baby. Breathe through it.”

The head of his cock pushes against my asshole, and suddenly I can’t do this. It’s too much.

I try to sit up, to move away from him, but he puts a hand over my chest to hold me in place.

“Stay right there.”

I clench my ass as if that could keep him out. The wide head of his cock forces its way in, despite my effort, and a wave of shameful heat rushes through me.

He continues to rub my clit to make it feel better.

“Let me in,” he whispers.

I can’t let him down. I can’t be the weak link. I force myself to relax, but the pain arrives anyway, sudden and blinding. White hot, shooting up my spine as he eases in deeper, stretching my hole extra wide with his girth. I cry out for him, no longer able to hold back.

Edwin moves slowly, as if he’s trying to carry me through it. His mouth finds my breast, his lips offering comfort as he sucks on my pert nipple. That tenderness is what I cling to.

This feels so much more intense than last time. His cock is too big. It’s part of him, and it’s so filthy to let him be inside there with all these witnesses. It’s another humiliation layered on top of everything else the Order has demanded from me.

And then my body begins to adjust.