Unfurl: A Hot Age Gap Romance
Unfurl: Chapter 21

The room is still for a moment. Silent. Callum’s hand is pressed to my wrists.

Then Rafe palms my stomach, and the flat, warm pressure of his large hand on my bare skin is a key turning in a lock. It anchors me and has my soul vaulting, soaring, all at once.

My gaze is locked on his face, but his is still upturned. His spare hand presses against his heart.

‘Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.’

His fingers splay out further across my skin, his tips pressing in, as if he’s trying to touch as much of me as possible.

‘I am about to dishonour this young woman and, in turn, dishonour You.’

His hand drags upwards.

‘She’s far too beautiful to leave untouched. Far too tempting. Her needs are too great for us to ignore them, however wrong they may be.’

His fingers brush the underside of my breast.

Oh God.

They’re so close to where I need them.

My breath is coming faster. I am Belina, and he is Fr Rafe, and I’m immersed. I’m gone. How is he so good at this?

‘We’re flesh and blood, Father. Weak. We don’t stand a chance around her. Show us Your forgiveness.’

And with that, he shoots me a look so ominous it’s as if he’s damning me to hell for tempting him to sin, to fall, and then he’s lowering his dark head and latching onto one straining nipple as Callum stretches out on the bed and does the same to the other.

The sight of two men suckling at my breasts, at those two dark, tousled heads devouring me, is almost too much on its own. The sensation of it, though? The deep pulls, the draws, the nips and the slick, warm, rolling tongues on my needy little nubs?

That all goes straight to my clit. My clit that they’ve exposed and are now ignoring, and that’s so swollen already I may blow just from this. It’s so good, so intense, so incredibly hot I can barely catch my breath.

This is what I was missing the other night behind that blindfold. I was missing this front-row seat to two men pleasuring me and playing the role of priests dragged to the edge of hell’s abyss by the unknowing siren call of an innocent, oblivious young trainee nun at Mass.

I luxuriate in their touch and allow myself to channel Belina the postulant. Belina who, up until a few minutes ago, knew little conflict beyond the dreams that tormented her in those pre-waking moments and is now lying restrained in her bed as two priests ravish her.

She’s been told to heed her soul, not her flesh.

But in this perfectly torturous moment, her flesh is singing to her so loudly that it’s all she can hear. It’s drowned out God’s voice, and she wants more. More. More.

Rafe’s hand moves back down to my stomach. It edges lower still, and I arch into their mouths’ touch and widen my legs as far as I can.

I need his touch there.

Callum’s touch.

Anyone’s touch.

I don’t care.

Rafe pulls his mouth off my nipple with a wet pop that makes my insides clench and raises his head to look at me.

‘How does that feel, Belina?’

‘Amazing,’ I moan.

‘You have beautiful breasts. Beautiful nipples. They were made to have men’s mouths on them. Not to be hidden under a fucking habit.’

I make a needy noise in the back of my throat.

‘Just like the rest of your body,’ he continues. ‘But we don’t want to push you. Do we, Fr Callum?’

Callum comes up for air and grins at me, and my nipples ache at their abandonment.

‘No,’ he says. ‘Maybe that’s enough for tonight. She’s been such a bad girl already. Perhaps we should leave her here, like this, to contemplate her eternal damnation before she sins anymore.’

Rafe’s teasing fingers brush the decidedly un-nun-like landing strip of my pubic hair, and I buck. They’re so close to where I need his touch.

‘What do you think, Belina?’ he asks. ‘Should we untie you and leave you alone to contemplate what you’ve done already? Or should we help you sin more? Show you what you’re missing?’

I stare up at his dark eyes. At the sharp jut of his jaw, darkened by stubble.

It looks abrasive.

It looks like it could deliver exactly the friction I need so badly right now.

I have no choice over what comes out of my mouth next.

‘I want you to show me, Father.’ I annunciate the words clearly. ‘I want you to defile me.’

Our gazes are locked, my eyes delivering a message as distinct as my words. Two can play at this game. It’s important to me that Rafe knows I have currency in this situation. That I have the power to affect him and Callum even while they’re undoing me.

I want to be completely in their hands. At their mercy. And yet, I also want them eating out of the palm of my hand, too.

Rafe stands and stares at me, his fingers clenching at his sides. Finally, he nods curtly and turns to Callum. ‘You heard her. Time to show her what she’s capable of.’

It seems to me that he walks to the foot of the bed in slow motion.

That, when he climbs onto the bed, and kneels between my legs, and looks down at what he sees there in front of him, time stops.

That the waiting for him to touch me is a particular torture.

And it strikes me that everything is happening on two levels. Even while I’m utterly immersed in this delicious fantasy of being defiled by two hot priests, I’m painfully aware that this is the only format in which I get to be with Rafe.

I’m a virgin. He’s a beautiful, experienced, and most likely debauched sex club owner.

Out there, I don’t stand a chance with a guy like him.

In here, I get to have his eyes on me. His hands. And possibly, hopefully, even his mouth.

I get to be the object of his attention. His desires. Even if only for half an hour.

So sue me if I’m going to give this scene everything I’ve got. If I’m going to hope and wish and pray that I’m not the only one who’s affected.

Callum palms both my breasts, waiting, and I watch Rafe’s eyes on Callum’s hands. I watch as he presses his lips together before glancing back down at where I lie open for him. Finally, his finger draws a leisurely trail from my entrance to my clit and back again, and I can tell from the ease with which it moves through my folds that I must be pretty wet.

God, it feels good. Not good. Amazing.

He sucks in a breath. ‘For a little postulant who claims to be the epitome of virtue, you’re soaking for us,’ he says.

The us reminds me how overpowered I am by these two men, and I wouldn’t be surprised if I’m instantly even wetter.

Rafe raises a shapely eyebrow. ‘You like how my fingers feel on your virgin cunt? Or you like knowing we’re both here to play with you to our hearts’ content?’

I moan. If there’s one thing that gets me off, it’s the idea of being men’s plaything. Of having them sample me. Use me for their pleasure. ‘Both,’ I tell him.

Callum’s hands begin to move on my breasts, his palms making just enough contact with my nipples to have them begging for more as Rafe circles my entrance with that finger.

‘There’s no fucking way we let her go after tonight,’ Callum tells Rafe.

‘Nope.’ Rafe pushes his finger inside me with just enough force to feel confronting, and I gasp at the welcome invasion. ‘We’re definitely coming back for more. We should bring some of the others, too. She’s too sweet not to share.’

He adds a thumb to my clit and brushes it so gently it’s agony. The thumb swipes back and forth, but I need more. So much more. I need friction and pressure. I arch my back as much as I can in my restraints, pushing my breasts up into Callum’s palms and my clit against Rafe’s thumb.

Callum laughs. ‘For an innocent little nun, she’s fucking gagging for it.’

‘I knew she’d be like this.’ Rafe’s eyes are fixed on where his thumb’s rubbing me. ‘I knew when I saw her at Mass she belonged on her back like this, her legs open for us and this sweet little pussy begging for us. Next time, we should fuck her. Over and over.’

Oh my God. Oh my God. Yes please. I want nothing more than a line of predatory, nameless priests, mindless with pent-up desire, coming to take their frustrations out on my body in this dim room. I can’t wait till I’ve got my virginity out of the way and I can make a reality out of the depraved scenes that play in my head.

‘I bet she tastes delicious.’ Callum’s palming becomes decadent, generous pinches and rolls of his fingers over my nipples, and I let out a loud sigh of pleasure.

‘Let’s find out.’ Rafe’s voice is casual as he pulls his finger out and bends closer to the apex of my legs. He parts my folds with his fingers as he peers at what he sees, and the clinical act of him inspecting me for his own pleasure has desire and shame rolling over me in equally potent waves. Blood pulses in my exposed flesh, and the mere sensation of his warm breath on me has me threatening to come right there.

‘Please,’ I moan.

‘Please, Father,’ Rafe corrects me.

‘Please, Father.’

He bends right over. His mouth isn’t touching me yet, but he’s so close I can only see the top of his head. I need him I need him I need him. Callum’s magic hands have whipped my nipples into the tightest, hardest, neediest little peaks, and every touch from him has me more desperate for Rafe’s mouth.

‘You’re about to let a man lick you in a place you were supposed to keep private, Belina.’ His voice is muffled. ‘A few minutes ago, you told us you were ready to take your vows of poverty, chastity and obedience, and now you’re begging a man of the cloth to put his mouth on you, and lick this pretty pussy of yours roughly, and fuck your tight little cunt with his tongue, and make you scream and writhe and come. How can you possibly be such a bad girl? Are you sure you want to commit a mortal sin like this?’

His filthy, damning words have me practically falling over the edge, all by themselves. Because there is nothing, nothing hotter than knowing that, after all these years of struggling temptation and confusion and shame and mystery and mortification, I’m powerless and wide open for these men and oh-so-ready for them to use me and corrupt me.

Rafe’s words are designed to make me feel sick with shame, but he presumably knows as well as I do that I’ll take that shame and harness it and embrace the edge it gives me. He knows it’s the very fact that I’ve been told, over and over and over, that behaviour like this is wrong and dirty and sinful that will have me hurtling towards the most intense kind of orgasm when I give in.

‘I know it’s a mortal sin,’ I say breathily, ‘but I can’t help it. I need it. I want to be corrupted.’

‘Fuck, yes,’ Callum says. ‘Better give this dirty little nun what she needs, Father.’

‘I intend to,’ Rafe says, and with that, he puts his tongue on me.

It’s a long lick, following the path his finger traced moments ago, and it’s nowhere near what I need, but because he’s holding me wide open it feels like he hits every possible nerve-ending in my entire nether region, and it’s bloody amazing.

Indescribable.

Rafe Charlton is actually licking me there.

He groans against my flesh.

‘How is she?’ Callum asks. He bends and kisses me, which I’m not expecting, but having his tongue invade my mouth at the same time as his hands are on my breasts and Rafe’s tongue is working magic on my lower body feels full and right. I moan into his mouth.

‘She tastes like sin,’ Rafe says, ‘and I’m not sure I’m going to be able to stop.’ He gives me one long, rough lap. ‘She is every fucking temptation in the book, right here.’ His finger finds my entrance again and thrusts inside me hard. I flinch, but I’m already addicted to this feeling. ‘I want to fuck her. Badly. She’s begging to be flipped over and fucked from behind while you fuck her mouth.’

Another long lick. He flickers his tongue over my clit in a manner that has my mouth opening in a wide O of disbelief that anything, ever, could feel this good. Or that anyone could be this skilled at talking dirty while winding me tighter and tighter with his magical tongue.

Callum groans. ‘Jesus, yeah. I want to fuck this mouth.’ He rolls my nipples hard as he plunges his tongue into my mouth.

Rafe adds a second finger, and oh wow. It’s very, very tight and definitely uncomfortable.

‘Breathe,’ he orders me.

I obey him, and the stretching sensation eases a little.

‘She’s so tight,’ he pants out. ‘Can’t even imagine what it would be like to fuck this.’

And then his tongue is back on me, and the fullness of his fingers inside me makes every sensation a million times more intense. A million times better.

‘Fuck, her clit is swollen,’ he groans to Callum. ‘She’s so fucking eager. Does it feel good, Belina? This is what sinning feels like. Does it feel good?’

‘It feels… it feels,’ I manage, as Callum pulls away to allow me to speak, but I’m spinning out of control.

Rafe chuckles and keeps working me. Teasing me. He circles my clit with his tongue. He runs it down to soothe my very stretched entrance, then back up. He laps it roughly, and I practically blow. Callum’s kissing me, so I can’t speak, but I push against Rafe’s tongue and moan loudly to convey my desperation for release.

‘She’s close,’ Rafe says, and Callum obliges by upping the ante of his kisses and his fingers on my nipples. Rafe pulls his fingers out and shoves them back in, hard, at the same time as he laves me roughly, rhythmically with this tongue, and he hits the spot again and again and again and I’m spiralling higher and higher and higher, heat flooding my entire body as these two guys continue their sensory onslaught on me.

I don’t know where my orgasm begins and ends. It’s technicolour and electrifying and staggering. The waves of pleasure course over me, on and on. And as they begin to subside, so do the ministrations of the men. Rafe lessens the ferocity of his licks and slides his fingers out of me. I’m vaguely aware, through my blinding sunspots and the deafening sound of my own breath, that he’s sucking his fingers into his mouth and groaning. Callum’s pinches ease, and he covers my breasts with his palms and presses down gently as I descend.

I’m shaking as I recover. I should be self-conscious now that the madness has passed, but I’m too limp. Too spent. Too utterly blissed out.

Rafe steps off the bed. ‘There’s no way you’re coming back from this, Belina,’ he says.

I shake my head. ‘No.’

‘Here’s the deal. We’ll tell your Mother Superior you passed your test. You weren’t interested. But we know the truth. You’re a dirty little whore who needs cock. I think we just found our newest recruit to keep the priests happy.’

Despite my earth-shattering orgasm, my entire body thrills at his words, at his suggestion of a scenario where I’m the plaything of a stable of frustrated priests. I think that’s probably been every fantasy I’ve ever had.

‘Next time,’ Callum says, ‘you’re going to get it. You’re lucky I didn’t ram my cock down your mouth.’

I glance at his crotch and notice for the first time that he’s hard. But when I look back at Rafe, that bulge has grown bigger and his face is that of a man who’s reached his limit. He’s every inch the conflicted man of the cloth in this moment, his gorgeous body clad all in black, the dog collar gleaming in the light of that crucifix, and his beautiful, staggering face strained. Tormented.

He bends over me to grab the tie at my wrists, then looks at Callum. ‘Clear off.’

Callum blinks. ‘Mate. I’m—’

‘Save it,’ Rafe barks. He glances down at me, and I gaze back at him like a needy puppy. ‘Got your safe word?’

‘Alchemy,’ I squeak.

‘Good.’ He jerks his head at Callum. ‘I said, clear off.’

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