Unfurl: A Hot Age Gap Romance
Unfurl: Chapter 20

Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.

Already.

The mere sight of these two in the dim room, their identical all-black outfits broken only by the white postage stamps of their dog collars, has my body reacting in ways I know the postulant Belina would not entertain.

Obviously, I’m infinitely more attracted to Rafe—I’m completely enraptured with Rafe—but I can’t deny having the two of them in front of me is confronting in the best possible way. In a way I didn’t have during the blindfolded session. They pack quite a punch, there by the door, especially from my prone position.

The power balance in this room just got a lot clearer.

Genevieve’s briefing comprehensively covered everything that would happen tonight, but I still get a guilty thrill when Rafe strolls towards me. I feel like a bit of an idiot, staring up at him as I white-knuckle the tops of my bedcovers, but the predatory look in his eyes tells me he very much likes what he sees.

‘Safe word?’ he murmurs.

‘Alchemy,’ I whisper.

He nods. ‘Good. Now, Belina, I’m Fr Rafe, and this is Fr Callum. Mother Superior asked us to stop by.’

I don’t say anything, just give a timid nod. Callum rounds the bed and comes to stand beside Rafe. His cheeky grin from earlier has disappeared. He looks as intense, as predatory, as Rafe does.

‘You’re due to begin your novitiate next month, correct?’ Rafe continues.

‘Yes,’ I squeak.

He smirks, eyes roaming over the outline of my body under the thin covers.

‘You see, Belina,’ he says, thrusting his elegant hands in his elegant pockets, his toned body ranging above me in a uniform that strikes me as equally appropriate for a servant of God or of Lucifer, ‘Mother Superior has some concerns about your chastity. She’s worried you’re not quite ready. She’s worried that underneath that pious exterior of yours, you’re actually a dirty little thing who’d rather be on her knees for other reasons than to praise our Almighty God.’

His tone is careless and arrogant and insufferably patronising, and the heat it sends careening around my belly and further south is infuriating.

‘I am pious,’ I gasp. ‘I’ve never done anything wrong.’

‘I know,’ he says. ‘But deeds aren’t the only form of sin, you know? Can you honestly tell us you never sin in your thoughts? That you never allow your mind to go to the very sins you’ll be vowing not to commit?’ He leans down, and I catch his scent. ‘Can you tell us a tiny part of you isn’t worried about what you’ll be giving up? That the pretty little cunt you’ve got hidden under there doesn’t need attention? That you can really live without dick?’

Oh my God. I’m growing more aroused by the second. I want Rafe to talk to me like this forever. I suspect I could come just from his words if he kept them up for a few more minutes.

‘I only sin in my dreams,’ I confess. ‘I try not to, but I can’t help it.’

The two priests exchange a triumphant glance.

‘Of course you can’t,’ Rafe croons. ‘That’s your body letting you know what it needs. The problem is, you’re trying to be a good girl, when really, you’re as filthy as they come. You can’t keep that shameful, greedy side hidden away, Belina. We’re here to help you understand what you need. We’re going to make you feel the things you feel in your dreams, but for real. Understand?’

‘I can’t,’ I protest. ‘It’s wrong.’

‘Damn right it’s wrong.’ Rafe nods at Callum, who steps forward and drags my blanket and sheet down the bed. They both eye me appreciatively.

‘We’ve been watching you,’ Callum says, ‘at Mass. Every day. Someone as beautiful as you isn’t meant for a life of celibacy, you know? You’re made to be worshipped and defiled and fucked. That hair shouldn’t be hidden under a wimple. It should be wrapped around our hands while you come on our cocks. Got it?’

I shake my head. ‘No. That’s a mortal sin,’ I say, but my traitorous body squirms on the bed.

‘It may be a sin, you pretty little thing, but you want it so fucking badly,’ Callum tells me. ‘You can’t lie to that beautiful, needy little pussy of yours.’ He turns to Rafe. ‘Her nipples are so hard, see?’

‘Believe me, I see,’ Rafe says in a strained voice. ‘They’re aching for our mouths on them.’ He brushes past Callum and heads towards the foot of the bed. His fingers curl tightly around my ankle. The possessiveness of his grip makes my clit pulse.

‘Here’s what’s going to happen.’ He strokes the thin skin there with his thumb. ‘You’re going to obey us, because we’re acting on behalf of Mother Superior here. She has asked us to inspect you. To see how suited you are to a saintly life. This is part of your journey. Do you understand?’

I nod.

‘Say it.’

‘I understand,’ I manage. God, his voice is whipping me up into a frenzy. He’s cold and clinical, and when he uses words like inspect it makes shame and desire curdle wonderfully in my stomach. I can’t wait for these men to spread me open and take what they want from me. It won’t be my virginity, sadly—not tonight—but I wish it was, because I’d give Rafe everything right now.

For the first time, I realise, I’m embracing my virginity. My lack of experience. This scene is helping me to understand how hot it is that I haven’t been properly touched before this. Not naked. I’ll be experiencing this awakening, this unfurling, right alongside Belina, the postulant.

No imagination needed.

‘Good girl,’ Rafe tells me. His fingers slide up my calf, and I shiver in anticipation. ‘This is what’s going to happen. We know you want to please Mother Superior, and we know your body has been trying to tell you what it needs for a long time. But we also know you try to be a good girl, try to shove all those filthy thoughts down. We know you’ve been taught that they’re wrong and shameful. That the pleasures of the flesh are something you’re not permitted to know.

‘So we’re going to use some ties on your arms and legs. Your arms so you can’t try to stop us, and your legs to hold you open so we can play with that pretty pussy of yours. Explore your tight little hole. We want you wide open for us. Understand?’

I nod. ‘I understand.’ I squirm on the bed again and replace my legs parting slightly at his words. The light fabric of my nightgown brushes over my nipples as I move, so softly it’s infuriating.

Callum opens a drawer next to the bed and pulls out some silky looking ties, throwing a couple to Rafe. He lifts both my arms and proceeds to tie my wrists to one of the headboard slats with deft, practised movements. Meanwhile, Rafe is tugging at my ankle and tying it to something I can’t see at the foot of the bed. When he’s done, he takes my other ankle and pulls my legs further apart than I’ve been expecting.

Even with the nightgown over me, the movement exposes my bare and already swollen private parts to the air and I’m struck afresh by how badly my entire body is aching to be touched. Now I get why they gave me such a ridiculously voluminous garment to wear.

It was so these men could spread my legs as far as they liked.

‘Pull for me,’ Rafe orders when I’m secured, and I obligingly attempt to tug my wrists and ankles from their restraints, but they hold firm.

‘That’s the thing about these postulants,’ Callum says conversationally as he rounds the bed. ‘They’re obedient little things.’ He climbs onto the empty side of the bed as Rafe comes up towards me, and I lie there as they survey their handiwork.

‘How do you feel, Belina?’ Rafe asks in a stern voice.

‘Scared,’ my character says. ‘Guilty. This is wrong.’

‘I think you’re scared of how much you’ll enjoy it,’ he says. ‘You’re scared that all your years of hard work and training will be undone tonight when you realised you’ve been deluding yourself. There’s no way you can live without this.’

He trails a hand lightly down my arm, over my sleeve, and I shiver as much at his touch as at the barely controlled intensity in his voice. His dark eyes gleam in the dim light, and as I allow my gaze to flick down his body, I notice with a jolt that he’s already hard. The huge bulge in what’s supposed to be a priest’s garb is as reassuring as it’s intimidating, because this time I get to see I’m not the only one affected.

He’s got me trussed up on this bed, but that bulge tells me I have far more power in this scenario than it may seem. Meanwhile, Callum’s crouched over me, surveying his and Rafe’s handiwork, and his knuckles graze my stomach through my nightgown.

‘How does she feel?’ Rafe asks.

‘Promising. Very promising,’ Callum drawls. The back of his hand moves higher, higher, and then his knuckles are rubbing at my stiff nipple, and the best kind of heat lances through me. I shudder in delight.

‘This,’ Rafe tells me, and it sounds as though every word is an effort for him, ‘this is what you’ve been missing. This is only the very start of what you’ve been missing, Belina.’

I am so fully present for this scenario. I want with every fibre of my being to give these men what they desire and take from them what my body so clearly needs. I’ll take every stroke. Every rub. Every lick. They think they’ll be consuming me, claiming me, even, but they have no idea of the depths of my greed for this. No idea at all.

‘Let’s see what she’s got for us, eh?’ Callum interjects.

Rafe nods. ‘Do it.’ He slides his hands into his pockets, the fabric of his trousers pulling even more taut over that obscene erection of his, and I swallow.

Callum stays kneeling, and leaning towards my feet, grabs the hem of my nightdress. Cool air sweeps my shins as he tugs it higher. My thighs. My—oh my God. The area between my legs is exposed now, the air dancing over the sensitive flesh as he drags the fabric up over my stomach, my breasts, over my head, and finally bunches it at my restrained wrists.

There’s a charged silence, then a strangled that’s more like it from Callum and a harsh intake of breath from Rafe that has my body singing as if he’s lavished me with praise. I look up at him, and my eyes lock with those twin pools of depravity. It strikes me that he’s not the most verbose guy, but he doesn’t have to be, because those eyes are the windows to his soul, and in this moment, I pray to the very God we’re defying that his soul is quite as black as the windows suggest.

He gets to his knees beside me and casts his eyes heavenward.