“Answer him,” Sterling whispers, but his words are kinder than Quinn’s, and I realize he’s caressing my face, tangling his fingers in my hair and pulling gently.
“Ye—yes,” I stammer, Quinn's fingers back inside me before I finish the word. I press into Sterling, my fingers digging into his thighs as the sensations building inside me feel too much to bear. I already feel like I'm on fire.
“You’re doing great, Angel. Just breathe.” It’s like Sterling can read my mind, can feel just how tightly wound I am. I quickly wonder if perhaps he can, if there’s some sort of vampire power I’m unaware of that allows them to infiltrate my mind. The realization has my blood running cold, my body pulling away from Quinn’s touch.
“Breathe,” Sterling repeats, and Quinn’s rhythm slows inside me. “We’ll slow it down, take our time. We’re here for you, Evangeline. Okay?”
Reassured, I sink against Quinn once more. His fingers are quickly replaced by his mouth and I let my head fall back against Sterling’s chest on a moan.
“Oh gods,” I exhale. My eyes are closed, but I swear I’m seeing stars with how good he feels against me. I match him stride for stride, rocking against his tongue and letting my hips follow his lead.
“Uh uh,” Sterling breathes into my ear.
A cracking sound echoes through the room, followed by my yelp as my eyes snap open. The outside of my thigh stings and it takes me a moment to realize Quinn slapped it.
“Eyes on him, Angel,” Sterling breaths against my neck. I swallow, nodding as I lift my head from Sterling’s chest towatch as Quinn doubles down against me with a newfound hunger, fucking me with his tongue. We lock eyes over the planes of my body, and godsdamn if it isn’t the hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed.
That is, until Sterling reaches around and finds my clit with ease, his fingers matching Quinn’s rhythm perfectly.
Okay,thisis the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. I am by no means a saint. I’ve spent many nights seeking escape at the hands of whatever body made themselves available for my pleasure when I’ve snuck out. But none of them came close to whatever the fuck this is. Not a single one.
And it’s as if Quinn knows it, can sense the thought as it circles in my mind. I swear he smirks, fuckingsmilesas he runs his tongue along the length of my slit. I bite down on my lip, trying to contain the fire burning me alive.
“Stop that,” Quinn orders. “Or I’ll stop again.” He pulls away briefly, as if to further his point.
“Stop what?” I ask, panting.
“He wants to hear you.” Sterling is still steady against my clit, despite Quinn pausing, teasing me. I watch Quinn for a moment, as he rocks back on his knees, arms braced against the bed as he waits for me to obey. I hold out for a moment, wanting to challenge him. But Sterling hits a stride that has me wanting to scream, and before I can help it I’m unclenching my jaw and letting my pleasure be known to the whole fucking house.
That must be all he needs to hear because Quinn is back on me in an instant and the combination of them both at my center has me writhing on the bed. Sterling reaches his other hand around my chest, pinning me against him. He’s not as large as the other boys, but he’s still larger than me and he holds me in place with frustrating ease.
“I can’t,” I whisper, the sensations surrounding me becoming too much, too strong.
“You can,” Sterling whispers. I reach a hand back, sinking my fingers into his long brown waves and tugging at them. But he doesn’t back down. “Let go, Evangeline. We’ll catch you.”
The words are my undoing. I cry out, no longer remembering where I fucking am. Quinn’s tongue consumes me, drinking down all of me as I come apart around him. Sterling’s fingers don’t relent until long after Quinn pulls away, licking his lips as the evidence of my desire drips down his chin and through his scruff.
I am breathless, spent; I don’t know that I’ve ever come so hard in my life. I fall back on the bed, my chest rising and falling with desperate need to recover. Sterling stays behind me, letting his fingers dance over my skin as he explores me, Quinn’s eyes tracking the path they pave. But as the lustful fog of my orgasm fades, reality sets in of what I’ve just done. I’ve just let not one but two members of the Blood Order fuck me with their fingers and their tongue. Shamefloods me, knowing how furious both Tamiel and my father would be.
The weight of it all suddenly comes crashing down. The truth of the situation I’m in. The truth of what my father has done, abandoning me after years of insisting he only cared about what was best for me. Leaving me in the hands of his enemies with nowhere else to go.
I’m truly alone, without treatment, without anyone. And for whatever reason this moment with Quinn and Sterling has revealed that truth in a new, terrifying and crippling light. It’s like everything leading up to this point has been a dream, and I’ve just woken up to find my nightmares a reality. And I can no longer hold back the torrent of fear and pain that floods me.
Quinn backs off the bed, grabbing his T-shirt and pulling it over his head. “I’m going to go check on Aamon. You’ve got her?”
“I’ve got her.” Sterling nods, pulling me beside him and wrapping me into his hold. I don’t look at him, don’t look at either of them, as I fold in on myself and begin to cry.
I’ve always loved broken things. I guess Zeke and I are similar in that way. He pretends he doesn’t—but he loves to find us, to hold on to us, to play savior as some fucked up way to redeem the dark things he’s done. It's not quite like that for me. I like to collect broken things because it helps me feel less alone. Like if other broken things in this world exist around me, perhaps it can help me feel like I belong. Perhaps I’m not as fucked as I’ve convinced myself I am.
And Evangeline is definitely a broken thing.
It’s what drew me to her, why I connected with her so quickly. Like recognizes like. And I knew right away I needed her, and she needs me too. Needsus. The others might not understand it yet, but she’s the key to this shit we have here. They’ll see it. Eventually.
Fornow, I will take whatever pieces of her she will allow me to hold, revel in her pain and torment as I see my own mirrored in it. I lap it up like my last fucking meal. Because in this city, it very well may be.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask her. My fingers trail gentle strokes up and down her arm. Her skin is fucking porcelain, so creamy and perfect. Visions dance in my head of the way Zeke could decorate it for us. It has me hard instantly, and part of me hopes she can feel it, can sense what she does to me, even in her sadness. Even in her brokenness.
“No,” she whispers into the dark room. Quinn turned the light off when he left. There’s no doubt she needs rest. There will be time for her to reveal those secrets she’s clinging to so deeply. Though I want to pry, to dissect them one by one until she’s wholly exposed—stripped bare.
