The sound of shoes on the stage alerted me to someone else’s presence. Someone else had come up here, though I didn’t want to tear myself away from Luca to see who it was. My body was too preoccupied with both men right now to pay attention to a third.
Although, where was Cade? Where did he run off to? The only third I could see being up here was the dragon man himself.
Whoever it was knelt down by the top of the bed, near the pillows, where my head was. He must’ve placed his arms atop the mattress, for it moved a bit. Still I did not look, too busy getting fucked while making out with Luca.
A low, deep voice whispered, “Look at you, baby girl. Finally taking what you want. I knew you had it in you.” He both sounded like he respected me and that he was jealous. Jealous of the two men on the bed, jealous he wasn’t one of them. The nickname he’d used told me who it was: Damian.
Although, why Damian thought he could just stroll up here and get a closer look at this, at me, was beyond me. I wanted to tell him to fuck off, but I couldn’t, still too lost in the softness of Luca’s lips and the feeling of Zander’s cock burying itself deep within my core.
“Let me know when you’re ready for me,” Damian whispered.
I was so instantly grated by his words, by his insinuation that he would be next in line, that I tore my mouth off Luca’s and said, “Who invited you?”
“You did, baby girl,” Damian’s answer came swiftly, coupled with a mischievous smirk. “Just like you invited him—don’t get why, though. I mean, fucking look at him. What could you get from him that you can’t get from me?”
It took me a while to realize he was talking about Zander, the man whose cock was currently still going at my pussy like it was a workout. Luca had disappeared, which I couldn’t even find odd, because I was slow to turn my head back to Zander, seconds from defending him and his very nice cock, but who I saw between my legs wasn’t Zander.
It wasn’t Zander, it wasn’t Cade, and it wasn’t Luca.
My eyes widened, my mouth falling open in shock. No words came from me as the man above me crawled up, his cock nestled inside of me, snug and tight and perfectly content. His face wore no mask, allowing me to see him in his full glory—though his top half still wore the typical black vestment, a small white square on his neck.
“Ignore him,” the priest above me instructed, “and let me take care of you.” His normally expressionless, emotionless face held a touch of desire. Desire for me, for my body, for what we were doing even though it went against every vow the man had ever taken.
I stared up at Ezekiel, wondering why, wondering how. Wondering… just wondering. How he’d gotten here, and why the fuck it still felt so good. It shouldn’t. I should snap out of it and push him off me, end this before it could continue, for surely we would both come to regret this.
But I didn’t. I simply met his crisp, clear blue eyes and let him do whatever he wanted to me. And, hint: it was something we’d both have to atone for.
Ezekiel fucked me long and he fucked me hard. The entire room faded away, along with every other person in it. The audience, the other men who had parts of my heart, even Damian’s kneeling form. There was nothing but me and the man I shouldn’t be attracted to.
This was wrong. It was so, so wrong, and yet that didn’t stop my body from crying out in urgency. As Ezekiel fucked me, he pushed me over the edge the others had brought me to. It was all so much, too much, and I lost control. I cried out, the orgasm having me in a chokehold, my inner core clamping down on his dick as he—
I woke with a start, my breathing almost as hard as it had been in the dream. My skin was slick with sweat, and I could feel the area between my thighs was warm, almost like I’d excited my body while I dreamed.
That dream… where in the world had that come from? Were my hormones really going that crazy? I didn’t know what to think of it, but it had been so real, so lifelike, I could close my eyes and picture it perfectly.
I lay there for a while, the early morning sunlight streaming through my windows, doing nothing but staring at the ceiling and trying to get my mind and my body under control. Getting up and starting my day when certain parts of me felt all tingly and weird was not something I wanted to do.
What in the hell was up with that dream? I wasn’t surprised at Cade or Zander or Luca… but freaking Damian and Ezekiel? Like, what. The. Fuck. Those two I didn’t want to think about in that capacity. A sex dream about a wannabe gangster and a priest? No, thanks. They had to be only in the dream because I’d seen them yesterday.
I let out a low groan, bringing my hands to my face. What I needed to do was shower to get the sweat off my body, and then… then do something to get my mind off that dream and the men in it.
Time ticked by, and I eventually got up. I took my time and got ready for the day. I even did some makeup, just to kill another half hour. I skipped breakfast, mostly because I didn’t want to see my father or talk to him. It was Sunday, so he didn’t really do business, which meant I had to figure out something to do to get myself out of the house and away from him.
Plus with the whole engagement thing to Luca… yeah, let’s just say any conversation my father and I could have wouldn’t end well.
I was sitting in my room, before my vanity mirror finishing up my makeup, when I heard my phone buzz. My hair was dried, its blond lengths having a slight natural wave. My dark eyes were done up in a smoky shadow, my eyelashes as long as ever with heavy mascara. Normally I didn’t do such heavy makeup, but… I was feeling the need to turn over a new leaf, and what better than to start with makeup?
Makeup, sex… maybe I’d even choose clothes to wear today that weren’t white. That would be a shock to my father, wouldn’t it? His precious daughter, wearing black in the bright light of day.
I didn’t want to overdo it, though. Let’s just take one step at a time.
I checked my phone, finding a message from Luca. My stomach instantly hardened at the thought of him and what he’d done to me in my dream, and it took everything in me to push away that sexual thought and refocus on the text message. He wanted to hang out today, just me and him.
Another message popped up on my screen: And Zander, if he has to come.
Hmm. That gave me an idea. Maybe Zander didn’t have to come, but in order to do it, I’d have to talk with my father about it—which was the one thing I didn’t want to do. I texted him back, telling him to be at my house in an hour to pick me up.
I got dressed in a white sundress, my midsection only a little stiff. If I bent a certain way it pained me, and I knew if I over-exerted myself, I’d only make the injury worse. It made me wonder if training with Ezekiel was a bad idea… but then again, so did that dream. Ezekiel should not have been in that dream.