Page 20 of The Hitman's Prince

“Orion is in the confessional seething with jealousy,” I said next, glancing that way. The massive wooden box remained closed, but I knew what Orion looked like on the other side of the door, his hand down his pants, his cheek pressed against the ornate and pattered wall so he could see through the design work.

So he could watch. Which was exactly what I wanted him to do.

He’d tried to fucking kill me, then he ran away like a coward instead of facing me over it, instead of owning up to his actions. He ran away like a fucking child, too scared of the punishment that came with his own bad decisions. And to think, I’d started to get soft for him.

Never again.

“Am I correct in assuming you do not want a warm up?” I asked.

“Correct,” the priest rasped.

“Am I correct in assuming you want me to draw blood?”

“Please.” He moaned. Hemoaned.

“Do you want me to fuck you afterward?”

“Please.” This time quieter, shakier.

“What is your safe word?” I rolled my shoulder back a couple of times, loosening the muscle and giving a coupletest swings of the flogger. Pain radiated out from the still-healing scar in my chest, and I cursed his damn God under my breath.

“Mother,” he whispered, and I rolled my eyes at the drama of it all.

“Now that we’re getting down to it, I’ve actually got bad news, Priest.”

He angled his head to the side, giving me a piece of his profile, brow raised in question.

“I can’t hit you.” I tried my shoulder one more time. “At least not the way we both want.”

I would have sworn I heard a sigh of relief come from the confessional, but I was certain Orion knew well enough to keep his commentary to himself. No matter, he would be free of his prison soon enough.

“It hurts no matter how hard you strike,” he said.

“We both know it’s not hard enough. I can have Orion do it, in fact… I think I’d like that the most.”

I didn’t wait for him to protest. He had his safe word and it was in the air between us already. I called for Orion to come out of the confessional, far too pleased to find him red-faced and erect. I held the flogger out to him and he closed the space between us, his fingers grazing over mine as he took the whip out of my hand.

“Hit him the way you want me to hit you again,” I instructed, reluctantly taking my hand away from his. His fingers were steady and warm, a little sweaty, and I was sure if I raised them to my mouth I would be able to taste his precum.

“Yes, Sir,” he consented, and I walked around to the front of the priest, undoing my fly and pulling out my cock.

I was hard as I knew Orion was, as hard as I imagined Jacob the Priest to be. Dragging my wet tip across his lips, I didn’t have to wait long for him to open and take me into his mouth.

“If you bite me, I’ll cut out your tongue. Do you understand?”

I was already buried in the back of his throat, and through teary eyes, he blinked up at me and nodded.

“Say your safe word so I know how it feels.”

He muttered the word, the flat of his tongue depressing against the underside of my shaft with the first syllable.

“Good. Orion, don’t stop hitting him until I’ve finished, do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” he said again, and Jacob groaned around my shaft.

I carded my fingers through his hair and hauled his nose against my stomach. “You can call me Sir if you like it so much.”

Before he could hum or argue or agree, Orion brought the flogger down hard in the center of his back. I didn’t know what I expected, maybe a cry or a scream, but definitely not a groan, definitely not the priest taking as much of my shaft into his mouth as humanly possible, definitely not him reaching down and touching his own cock.