Page 63 of Heartless Heathens

I’d spent the majority of my life being told that anything that gave pleasure was a sin, but I’d never felt anything in this world that compared to the things they could do to me. It was as if my body had been liberated but my mind was still stuck in the confinement of the mental prison Frollo had built especially for me.

Why?

Why had he done this to me?

So he could dispose of me the first chance he got?

No, there was something I was missing.

Because the very men I’d been led to believe would be my ruin, were somehow becoming my salvation. He sucked harder, only letting go to move his tongue in wild and frantic motions that forced my legs to quake and tremble under his hold.

“Do you like it when I drink straight from your dripping cunt?”

“Ah!” I cried out as the sensation drilled deeper and deeper into my core, his dirty words washing through me like a tidal wave that would drown into my lungs with a violent crash.

I bit my lip as hard as I could, tasting the metal of the blood as the only way to keep my mouth from betraying me and pushing Felix away with false lies. I whined from deep within my throat while my climax crashed all around me in a deafening wave. I quaked under his touch while he kept stroking his fingers in and out of me so slowly it made my mouth water.

He dove back down, licking and swirling his tongue until my hips bucked and I chased a stronger feeling I couldn’t define as anything except pure wanting. It felt feral and uncontrollable, like something had taken over me. I let the sensation wash over me like a current and I fisted his sheets in my hands while surge after surge of pleasure poured into and out of me.

“Oh God!” I cried out as it pulled me under, leaving me gasping for breath.

Shipwrecked, bare, and vulnerable.

“He’s not here right now.” His face rose into my view with a sinister smirk.

His eyes seemed darker than I remembered but my vision was hardly reliable, my mind was still spinning from the vortex of pleasure that had been drawn out from inside of me.

He pulled out his fingers, leaving me with a shocking emptiness as I crashed back down to earth, panting heavily and trying to regain my composure. He helped me out of all my netted clothing and leotard and before I knew it he had draped a soft t-shirt over my naked body.

He pulled me into his chest just like he’d done so the other night and buried his nose into my neck.

“Good night, sweet Mina,” he whispered.

I breathed heavily, my thoughts refusing to let my brain turn off. He could sense it too.

“What is it?” he asked.

“This. You. All of you.” I exhaled, “What if it damns me?”

“What if it heals you?”

I pondered the words for so long that I wasn’t sure if he’d already fallen asleep.

“I need to pee,” I whispered and Felix loosened his grip on me enough to let me wiggle out of bed.

I grabbed the knife Corvin had gifted me off the bedside table and wrapped the holster over my thigh, buckling it closed before slipping the blade in. It was a comforting thought, remembering what he said about using it to keep me safe. I’d never been given a chance to protect myself before. I wanted to always have that option nearby.

I turned the doorknob, walking into the steamy bathroom and feeling the waft of the heat hit my skin. Sonny stepped out of the shower, droplets of water running down his painted muscles and rolling down the ridges of his firm abdomen. There was a scar in the center of his chest, nearly invisible at first glance because of the images that covered it but if I focused enough I could see the raised tissue.

I’d forgotten how to blink and my gaze followed a droplet as it made its way south. He was a mirror image of a Grecian statue, all chiseled and hard from every angle. Except, what hung between his legs was nothing like I’d seen in any anatomy book or painting before and I remembered how it looked up close, when it was awake.

“You’re drooling.” Sonny’s voice ran up my spine like a cold chill through an open window, snapping my attention back up to his face.

“N-no I’m not.”

He reached for the towel hanging from the hook near the wall, then narrowed his eyes at me. He dropped his hand, deciding to not use it before stepping closer towards me.

Sacrilege dripped from his every pore.