Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 130924 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 655(@200wpm)___ 524(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130924 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 655(@200wpm)___ 524(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
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 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.
Chapter 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 them 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 cocks juts straight up. It looks painfully hard, the skin shiny from being stretched, the tip glistening with his 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 says otherwise.
I obey him, lifting the nightgown over my head.
“Now lie down on the floor, on your back, and spread your legs.”
Oh goodness.
I stare at Crane, unsure of what he has planned, but I have a good guess. His gaze remains carnal, pinning me in place.
You can walk away, he says inside my head, his lips moving slightly. I won’t keep you here.
I nod, feeling reassured, and get down on the floor, lying down on my back. The floor is cold but my body feels like it’s on fire. I inhale, my chest rising, feeling energy spark and sizzle throughout me.
Crane gets down on the floor and keeps holding eye contact as he slowly runs his hands up my legs. I think he must mean to screw me, get in deep and make Brom watch, but then he runs his jaw up my inner thigh and I can feel the faint scratch of his stubble. I let out a trembling sigh, my back arching as I break our gaze.
I roll my head to the side and look at Brom.
The look in his eyes could light a thousand fires. If my body wasn’t already impossibly hot, I would swear he’s set me ablaze.
There’s pure rage and frustration roiling through him but underneath it all is desire. Lust. Raw need. As if his cock, stiff and thick as a tree trunk, isn’t all the evidence I need to know this is arousing him.
“You can look at him all you want,” Crane rasps between my thighs, his lips brushing over where I’m aching and wet, “so as long as you remember you’re mine to taste and touch and fuck.”
And at that his tongue makes contact sliding down from where I’m swollen and needy until it thrusts up inside me.
I let out a whimper of pleasure, my eyes pinching shut at the intrusion, breaking eye contact with Brom. Violent need sweeps through me like a serpent, coiling at my center as Crane ravages me with his mouth. These aren’t gentle kisses—I am being devoured whole.