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I let out an exasperated whine, and Judas roars as his release rocks through him. His cock explodes in my mouth and squirts warm, salty cum down my throat. I try to relax as he shoves himself even farther.
“Fuck,” he breathes. “Oh, fuck, baby, you did so good.”
His praise does something to me, but I can’t pinpoint exactly what the feeling is.
Micah comes a second later, my name a soft moan on his lips. My arousal is literally dripping down my thighs, I’m so turned on.
Judas releases his grip on my hair and runs his fingers through the wet strands. Without thinking, I lean into his touch and close my eyes, my mouth still full of his cum. He runs his thumb over my bottom lip and pulls on it.
As soon as I open my mouth, his cum flows out and down my neck. His fingers are gentle as they push it back inside. Instinctively, I swallow.
He lowers himself until he’s on his knees in front of me and looks me in the eye.
“I don’t think I can let you go, Raine,” he says quietly, but still loud enough for me to hear over the spray of the shower.
His words simultaneously send a chill over my skin and heat through my core. I open my mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. The corner of his mouth lifts into a devilish grin.
“What wasI supposed to be doing today?” I ask curiously as I slip on the oversized t-shirt and pajama pants Micah left out for me. After Judas made me swallow his cum, we quickly showered and left the heat of the bathroom. Now I’m shivering in this drafty bedroom with nothing but these oversized clothes to keep me warm. Thankfully, I’m feeling much better after the shower. The headache has subsided substantially, and I feel more awake. I’m still feeling a little nauseous, though, but I’m chalking that up to swallowing cum. I read somewhere that that could happen.
Micah tosses me a pair of long white socks and looks at his dad. “Should we tell her?”
As Judas slips on a plain black shirt, I notice some scarring along his ribcage towards his back that I somehow missed in the shower. He quickly tugs the shirt down and runs his hands through his hair. I try to hide my frown with my hair as I put the socks on.
Why do they have to be so damn attractive?
He slips his shoes back on and looks at me with an intensity that makes my stomach dip. “If she really wants to know, we’ll show her.”
And now it feels like there’s a big ball of ice sitting in the pit of my core.
Standing up, I shake my head frantically. “Nope. No, it’s okay. I don’t want to know that bad.”
“Too late, Raine. I’ve changed my mind,” he says, eyes darkening suddenly.
Judas grabs me by the arm and practically drags me out of the room. I think we’re going back to the attic, but he steers me down the hall in the opposite direction.
Are they taking me down to the first floor? My heart races in my chest. All I have to do is comply, just follow along with what they say, and maybe I’ll be able to find a way out of here.
“Can you at least tell me where you’re taking me?” I ask, out of breath, as I struggle to keep up with Judas’s long strides.
Of course, he doesn’t say anything. I turn to look at Micah for an answer, but he doesn’t pay any attention to me.
Great. They could very well be marching me to my death right now and I’d be none the wiser.
A door to the left catches my eye because it’s different from the others. Instead of a standard rectangular door, it’s rounded at the top—the only one in the whole hallway.
Why is this one door different from the others? Are they hiding something in there?
When I look at Micah again, he’s glaring at me. I’ve got my answer.
At the end of the hall, a staircase leads us down to the first floor. A lot of the floor plan seems to be open space; I can pretty much see the living room, dining room, and kitchen from where we’re standing in the foyer. The vaulted ceilings are high and made of the same rich, dark brown wood as the floors.
The living room is furnished with only an L-shaped black leather sofa with two matching armchairs, a mounted TV larger than the one upstairs, an entertainment center, and a coffeetable. The dining room and kitchen are pretty sparsely furnished as well.
You can definitely tell men live here, that’s for sure. I can’t help but wonder what this house could look like with a woman’s touch—and then I shame myself for even caring about something like that.
Judas pulls me into the kitchen and through a door that leads to the garage, and shoves me down onto a metal stool by a dirty ATV.
“Why do you have a garage if you live on an island?” I ask.
