LOGINHe started to move....slow at first, letting her adjust, then faster, harder. His hand reached around to rub her clit again, and impossibly, Maya felt pleasure beginning to mix with the pain.
"That's right," Marcus encouraged. "Your body is learning. Learning what it's made for. Learning to love being completely owned."
He fucked her ass with increasing intensity, and Maya found herself pushing back to meet his thrusts, her body betraying her, craving more despite the overwhelming sensation.
"Going to come," Marcus warned. "Going to fill this ass with cum just like I filled your pussy."
"Yes! Do it! Please!"
Marcus slammed deep and came, flooding her ass with hot spurts, marking her final hole as his.
When he pulled out, Maya collapsed completely, unable to move. Cum leaked from both holes, her body ached everywhere, and she felt more thoroughly used than she ever had in her life.
"Good girl," Marcus murmured, surprisingly gentle as he pulled her into his arms. "You did so well. Took everything I gave you."
Maya couldn't speak, could only tremble against his chest.
"Same time next month," Marcus said, his hand stroking her hair. "For your next payment. But I might stop by before then. For inspections. Make sure everything's... working properly."
*****
Four weeks later, Maya heard the familiar knock on her door at 6 PM.
She'd been expecting it....dreading it and craving it in equal measure. The past month had been torture in the best possible way. Her body still remembered every brutal thrust, every stretched hole, every moment of complete surrender.
She'd found a job....a good one....and could technically pay rent now. But when she'd tried to tell Marcus, to offer actual money, he'd just smiled and said, "I prefer our current arrangement."
And God help her, so did she.
Maya opened the door wearing nothing but a silk robe. Marcus's eyes darkened with approval.
"Someone's learning," he said, stepping inside. "Good girl."
He didn't waste time with small talk. Just backed her against the wall, his mouth claiming hers in a brutal kiss while his hands shoved the robe off her shoulders.
"I've been thinking about you for weeks," Marcus growled against her lips. "About this body. About how perfectly you take my cock. About all the things I want to do to you."
"Then do them," Maya breathed. "I'm yours. Use me however you want."
Marcus's smile was wicked. "Careful what you wish for."
He carried her to the bedroom....her weight nothing to his strength....and threw her on the bed.
"This time," he said, stripping off his clothes, "I want to see if you can take both holes at once. Think you can handle that?"
Maya's eyes widened. "Both at once? How...."
"You'll see." Marcus pulled something from his pocket....a vibrator, thick and realistic-looking. "This goes in your pussy while I fuck your ass. Let's see how much you can really take."
He pushed the vibrator inside her....already wet, already ready....and turned it on. The vibrations immediately sent shockwaves through her core. Then Marcus positioned himself at her ass.....already easier than last time, her body remembering....and pushed inside.
The fullness was incredible. Overwhelming. Two thick shafts filling her simultaneously, the vibrator buzzing against her walls, Marcus's real cock stretching her ass.
"Fuck!" Maya cried out. "Oh God, it's so much!"
"You can take it." Marcus started to move, fucking her ass while the vibrator stayed lodged in her pussy. "You're going to take everything I give you. Because you're mine now. Not just for rent. Mine."
He pounded into her brutally, the headboard slamming against the wall, and Maya came within minutes....the dual sensation too much to resist. But Marcus didn't stop. Kept fucking her through one orgasm, then another, then another.
"Please," Maya finally sobbed. "I can't take anymore...."
"One more," Marcus demanded. "Give me one more and then I'll stop."
He reached down to rub her clit while continuing to pound her ass, the vibrator still buzzing in her pussy, and Maya's fourth orgasm hit like a freight train. She screamed his name, her body convulsing, and Marcus followed....filling her ass with cum while she was still coming.
When he finally pulled out and removed the vibrator, Maya was completely wrecked. Boneless. Destroyed in the best possible way.
Marcus cleaned them both up with surprising tenderness, then pulled her against his chest.
"I know you got a job," he said quietly. "I know you can pay rent now."
Maya tensed. "Are you ending this?"
"Fuck no." His arm tightened around her. "This stopped being about rent weeks ago. This is about me wanting you. Needing you. You're mine, Maya. Job or no job. Money or no money. You're mine."
"Good," Maya whispered, surprising herself. "Because I don't want to stop either."
Marcus tilted her face up to his. "Then don't. Move into the penthouse with me. No more games about rent. Just you and me."
"You're serious?"
"Dead serious. I want you in my bed every night. Want to wake up with you every morning. Want—" He paused. "I want you, Maya. All of you. Not just your body. You."
Maya's eyes filled with tears....the good kind this time. "Yes. God, yes."
Marcus kissed her....deep and claiming but also surprisingly tender.
"Good," he murmured against her lips. "Because I'm not done with you yet. Not by a long shot."
He proved it by fucking her twice more that night....once in the shower, once against the windows overlooking the city....claiming her completely, thoroughly, perfectly.
Three months later, Maya moved into Marcus's penthouse.
Six months later, she had a ring on her finger.
And every night, Marcus reminded her exactly who she belonged to....with his hands, his mouth, and that massive fourteen-inch cock that had started it all.
She'd been desperate and broke, facing eviction.
Now she was his....completely, permanently, perfectly.
And she wouldn't have it any other way.
"Always," said Lucien."Do you both want me?""Yes," they said at once.She closed her eyes for a long moment. When she opened them, something fierce and bright had risen in her chest, a feeling she hadn't felt in years: the feeling of being entirely, thrillingly alive."Then I'd like you both to stay," said Rose.Father Brennan came to her slowly, the way a man approaches something he has wanted for a long time and is afraid of breaking. He took her face in his lean, strong hands and looked at her."Tell me if it's too much," he said."I will."He kissed her.It was different from Lucien's kiss. Slower. Deeper. A kiss from a man who had spent thirty years learning restraint, and who was letting it go one careful piece at a time. She melted against him, sighing into his mouth, and behind her she felt Lucien's hands settle on her hips and his mouth find the back of her neck.Two priests. Two mouths. Four hands."You're trembling," said Matthias against her lips."I'm not afraid.""I kn
She went down gladly. She unzipped him with unsteady fingers and freed the long, thick length of him, hard and heavy and already wet at the tip, and took him into her mouth with a deep, hungry moan."Fuck," he breathed. "Fuck, Rose."She sucked him slowly, taking him as deep as she could, her lips stretched around his thickness, her tongue swirling along the underside. His hand tangled in her hair and he pushed her down gently, and she let him, relaxing her throat, breathing through her nose."That's it. Open for me. Let me in."He began to thrust up into her mouth. Slow at first, then harder, holding her head still while he fucked her face in deep, steady strokes. She gagged, once, eyes streaming, and he stopped immediately and stroked her cheek."Too much?"She shook her head, wiped her mouth, and swallowed him again.He cursed, a long raw sound, and gave in. He fucked her mouth with his whole body, hips rolling up, his hands gripping her head, the wet, obscene sounds of it filling
"Lucien," she gasped. "Oh, God, it's been so long.""I know. I've got you." He held still, buried in her, shaking with restraint. "Tell me when.""Now." Her voice cracked. "Please, now."He moved.Slow, deep strokes at first. Then faster. He fucked her against the wall of the little chapel with the Virgin watching from her niche, and Rose bit down on her own forearm to keep quiet, tears of pleasure sliding down her cheeks. Every thrust hit her deep. Every thrust made her cry out. His hand slid around her waist and found her clit, rubbing tight, fast circles, and the second orgasm hit her so quickly that her knees buckled.He held her up. He kept fucking her. He growled in her ear, "Again. I want to feel you again."She came a third time with his name on her lips, and that was what broke him. He drove into her one last time, buried to the root, and came with a deep, ragged groan, his teeth against her shoulder, pulsing hot inside her.They sank to the floor together, tangled and gaspin
He unbuttoned her coat. He peeled it from her shoulders. Underneath she wore a plain black dress, a church dress, and he drew the zipper down her spine with one slow, careful hand and let it slide to the floor.She stood in a slip and a black lace bra and a pair of simple cotton panties, and she suddenly felt thirty-eight, and soft, and uncertain. She crossed her arms over her stomach."Don't," said Lucien."I'm not what I was at twenty.""No." He gently pulled her arms away. "You're better."He sank to his knees in front of her, and the sight of a priest on his knees in a chapel, looking up at her with those dark, hungry eyes, nearly broke her."Let me worship you," he said.He pressed his lips to her stomach. He kissed the soft curve of her belly, the tiny silver stretch marks she hadn't known how to be proud of, the dip of her hip. He drew down her panties and she stepped out of them, and he parted her thighs with his hands and looked at her, and made a sound low in his throat."Lo
Rosalind Delacroix had worn black for two years, and she was tired of the color.She was thirty-eight. She had buried a husband at thirty-six, a good man, a gentle man, a man who had held her hand through the entire six months of his illness and made her promise, at the very end, that she would not let herself go quiet. She had promised. She had meant it.And then she had gone quiet anyway.Two years of casseroles and condolence cards. Two years of Sunday Masses in the third pew on the left, where she and Paul had always sat, with her hands folded and her eyes on the floor. Two years of a cold bed, and a body that had gone from grief to numbness to something worse than either: a slow, humming, hungry ache she did not have any name for, and no one to bring it to.Until the new priest.He had said Mass for the first time on a gray morning in September, and Rose had looked up from her missal and felt something she had not felt in two years. A flicker. A single hot spark, low in her belly
"I know," said Lucien. "That's all right. You don't have to do anything you don't want to."She looked at Camille. Camille, who was lying on the red carpet with her skin still flushed from his mouth, smiled and held out a hand."You can join us," said the bride quietly. "If you want."Sister Agnes made a small, broken sound. And then she took one step forward, and another, and the rosary slid from her fingers and clattered onto the marble.***They undressed her together.Camille's fingers found the pins of the veil, and lifted it away, and a heavy fall of chestnut hair tumbled down to the nun's shoulders. Lucien unfastened the gray habit with careful, reverent hands. Underneath was plain white cotton, a simple bra, a simple slip, and Agnes shook so hard that Camille drew her down onto the steps and held her, stroking her back."It's all right," she murmured. "We've got you.""I'm so scared," Agnes whispered."Do you want to stop?""No." A trembling laugh. "God help me, no."Lucien kn







