Page 28 of The Cult

“Let’s start with your stance,” I said, shifting Abel’s half-naked body to face the punching bag. I stood behind him and grabbed both of his hips.

He gasped a lungful of air. His skin was scorching hot, burning my touch with volts of electricity—a sensation I hadn’t felt in ages. When Abel exhaled a shaky breath, sweat cascaded down his brawny back, dripping into his soaked gym shorts. The outline of his underwear accentuated his well-built ass—firm and tight.

I cleared my throat and focused on the task. “Are you right-handed?” I asked. My lips were inches away from his ear. I couldn’t tell for sure, since he’d jerked off using both hands last night. I shook the image of his pumping fists from my head. Clear mind only going forward.

“Left-handed,” he answered.

“Good.” I tapped his right leg before continuing. “Spread your legs.”

He groaned, goosebumps appearing on the back of his neck.

“Good boy.” The words left my mouth before I was able to filter them, and I was relieved that no one heard them but Abel. “Bring your left leg slightly forward.”

“I didn’t know you boxed,” he said. He glanced over his shoulder to study me, his lips nearly brushing mine. He held my stare for a moment before looking away, awaiting my next instruction.

“There’re lots of things you don’t know about me,” I growled.

“Shit. You’re killing me,” Abel murmured. “Can you excuse me for a second.” He stepped aside, keeping his back against mine, adjusting his shorts.

“Are you okay?” I approached but he raised his arm up, stopping me in my tracks.

“I’m okay … just … don’t come any closer.” He pivoted his body, sticking his ass up. “I’ll be right back,” he said before running away.

“Hey, where are you going?” one of the trainers yelled.

“Gotta pee,” Abel answered, disappearing into the bathroom that didn’t have a door.

“Hey, you!” I shifted my attention to the other trainees while I waited for Abel to come back so the guards didn’t get suspicious that I was playing favorites.

It’d been ten minutes since Abel left to go to the bathroom. He better not be jacking off again. “I’ll be right back,” I said and went to check on him, but stopped halfway when he finally came out. “Are you all right?” I asked once he reached me and we walked back to the punching bag.

“I’m fine.” His tone was laced with attitude. “Just needed a moment.” He was avoiding looking at me. “Are we training or yakking?”

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” I shot back, my voice sharp with irritation. Don’t smack him. Don’t smack him.

“They call me Nine,” the smart ass answered.

“Watch it!”

“Whatever,” he whispered, turning away.

“Wait.” I grabbed Abel’s arm as he took his first step.

Abel looked down to where we were connected. “What?”

I released my hold on him, but his warmth lingered on my skin. “How much do you trust them?” I nodded in the direction of the rest of the guys.

“More than I trust you,” Abel answered without skipping a beat.

Those words would’ve stung if I had a heart, but my soul was hollow, so I ignored him and instead made it my mission to change his mind. I’d start by telling him why I was there: to get him and his family out as soon as possible.

Fourteen: Abel

Epic failure once again. I’d promised myself to never let Tobias’s presence affect me in any way, but that was shot to shit. Literally; the proof was in the load I spilled on the floor of the wet bathroom stall. But what was I supposed to do? His hands were all over my body, manhandling me in the best way possible. His tight grip was irresistible, his deep commanding voice was alluring. I wasn’t going to admit it to him, but I fucking loved every second of his dominance.

I didn’t even bother to hose the floor down as I was in a hurry to tuck my cock back into my briefs, pull my shorts up, and head out before they sent someone to check on me—or worse, Tobias checked himself. It’d been a great call, since he was already on his way when I exited the bathroom. Shame coursed through me when I spotted him. Not for thinking about his mouth wrapped around my dick, but for pleasuring myself, which Orcus had ingrained in all of us was wrong. “Cast all your temptations for pleasure away. Focus on your contributions to our community. You have a purpose—a purpose much bigger than you have ever imagined—so never let your own needs force you to lose sight of your calling. Sacrifices have to be made for the greater good,” Orcus had said once, and versions of the same poison were taught in our classrooms growing up. He’d made us remorseful for doing the most natural and personal things. Every deed that didn’t contribute to his well-being and the cult’s ultimate goal elicited a sense of guilt thanks to Orcus’s masterful manipulation.

“How much do you trust them?” Tobias’s question had come out of nowhere, but my answer didn’t. I trusted all of my friends. We’d shared the same misfortune of being raised within the walls of this prison that we hoped to break away from. The sooner the better. Why did he want to know?

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