Page 19 of The Hitman's Prince

Orion.

That was his name.

Vince’s comment had me wondering if whatever was happening was some kind of grossly blasphemous foreplay. I should have been turned off by the whole thing, but instead I found my cock thickening between my legs, testing the seam of my sweatpants.

“I like it rough. I…like when it hurts. When I bleed.”

At my feet, Orion whimpered, hips pushing down against the floor.

“Knives?” he asked.

“Whips,” I admitted.

“Is that what you wanted from me?”

I opened my mouth, but snapped it closed, gesturing to Orion on the ground between us. “I’m not sure I understand what’s happening,” I said.

“Don’t worry about him.” Vince stepped on Orion’s fingers, closing the space between us with this man prostrate beneath our feet. “I’m not asking what he wants. I’m asking what you want.”

There had been a series of events that had brought me to the church, some in my control and some not. Church was not a sanctuary for me, and inviting anotherman into the space, especially a man like Vince Angelini…it wasn’t just reckless.

It was dangerous.

But I didn’t care.

“Yes,” I rasped, swallowing hard.

“Do you have a whip? Do you want to bleed?”

“Yes.”

“Go get it, then. Come back and ask me for the privilege, Priest, and we’ll see what you get.”

It was hard to walk, hard to turn around and run back into my small apartment, and harder still to dig through the small box under my bed with toys that I should have never brought into the church. I still had no clue what was happening. Didn’t understand who Orion and Vince were to each other, but I didn’t have it in me to care. My brain wasn’t firing right. The only thing that mattered was the looming promise of knotted leather digging holes into my back and the release that came with that kind of pain.

When I made it back to the sanctuary, Orion was on his feet, face a tangled mask of arousal and anger all at once. Vince had re-holstered his weapon and he whispered something into Orion’s ear that I couldn’t hear. When he saw the whip in my hand, more an old cat-of-nine tails with knotted leather falls, his mouth curved into a deviant smile. He said something else, and Orion managed a weak nod.

“Too bad,” he said, once I was close enough to hear. “You can go to the confessional and repent your fucking sin, Orion. I’ll deal with the holy father here.”

I wanted to tell him I wasn’t really a priest, but he took the whip out of my hand, and we both watched Orion stare longingly at the tool before heading to the confessional. He slammed himself inside, and I didn’t know if he went to his knees or into his pants.

“Get on your hands and knees and face your God,” he said, taking the whip out of my hand and testing the falls against his forearm. I dug my nails into my palms to stop myself from coming on the spot, then sank to my knees and stared Vince Angelini straight in the eye, waiting for whatever salvation he had to offer.

Chapter 15

Vince

“Cute,” I murmured, swirling my finger in a circle so Jacob the Priest would turn around and give me his back. We must have awakened him with our late arrival because instead of the slacks and button up I’d seen him in before, he wore nothing more than a pair of gray sweatpants and a white undershirt.

He shuffled around to face the altar, reaching down to ruck his shirt up and over his head. Tossing it onto the floor, he threaded his fingers together against the back of his skull and sank down so his ass rested against his heels.

“Is this muscle memory?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said.

“Crawl up the stairs, you’re too low.”

He did, bringing his back at a more reachable level.The flogger he’d brought me was brutal. The only thing that could have made it worse was razor wire. Rough strands of leather knotted together from the tail halfway up the fall…the toy was designed to hurt and to do it well.