by Tiana Laveen
Her hips gyrated; her pussy lips greeted his forceful touch. Sighing, she came undone when one finger, and then a second, slid within the soft folds of her flower, going knuckle deep. As quickly as it arrived, the red smoke dissipated, leaving just the two of them grinding up and down against one another to the music. Their gazes never strayed from one another; she was afraid to even blink, scared of missing any change of expression. The intensity in his glowing eyes made her stomach flip as he pumped his hips and worked his fingers inside of her.
He slid his thumb back and forth over her clit, making her ass glide against the wall. Breathing harshly against her neck, he pressed his stomach against hers and gyrated as if he were already inside her. Rotating his fingers in perfect loops, he drew pictures within her, timed to the beat of the music.
“Shit!” She gritted her teeth and rained down onto his pumping hand. A flurry of growls and motion followed as she was spun around, facing the wall. “What the?!” Palms against the wall, her body was outstretched as if she were flying. A large hand gripped each of her thighs, and then he stood in between her legs. Peering at him from over her shoulder, she gasped when he drove his dick inside her. “I Wanna Roll with You” by Connan Mockasin started to play through the speakers as he ruthlessly pounded her from behind. Their cries and moans echoed and overlapped, his aggression ugly and beautiful all at once. Black and white smoke filled the room. Glancing back at her man from over her shoulder, she saw the dark and light swirls spinning out of his mouth and nostrils. He gripped her jaw, forced her mouth open as she engulfed the smolder that drifted all around her. Her chest cavity soon filled with an ungodly heat.
“Fuck!” Cold, heavy metal snapped around her waist. She’d had no idea he’d brought a friend over. The thick chain clamped him to her, binding them, forcing her ass into his thirsty, firm thrusts. She screamed when he took a fistful of her hair and crudely yanked with each rough plunge of his cock. He groaned, tightening the steel chain around her and bringing her impossibly closer until he had her back pressed hard against his chest. She could feel his heartbeat thumping, almost hear the damn thing as if it were a ticking clock, soon to explode. His thrusts were so hard, his body so rigid. He fucked the living daylights out of her.
“I warned you!” he said as if reading her thoughts.
The slapping of his balls against her swollen pussy competed with the music. She clawed at the air, her legs shaking. Her juices coated her inner thighs, flowing down her damn legs and making a mess of things.
Then, he abruptly pulled out of her, fell to his knees, and traced her flowing juices with a fast, eager tongue, licking from her knees all the way up to her inner thighs. Gripping his shoulders, she leaned forward, about to pass out as her body became his willing toy. The man again slid his finger in her pussy, sucked on her clit, and stroked his cock while his eyes glowed bright yellow.
Chris Brown’s, ‘No Bullshit’ came on then.
“So glad you’re built for the type of fucking I need!” he roared between gulps of her love. “My soulmate feeding me…”
“This is your lust coming through … from your first fuck as a kid losing your virginity until the last time you slid up inside me. We’re going to turn what that fucker did to you into something beautiful, baby… We’re going to turn it around. You’re married to a Queen, baby. Let’s flip that shit, turn his travesties into pure love!”
Saint kissed her inner thigh in the sweetest of ways, then got to his feet and picked her up into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he led her to a corner of the room that featured arm shackles hanging from the wall. She stood on a black pedestal, waiting for him to place her wrists inside the restraints. She gasped when he suddenly kicked the stool out of the way, forcing her to dangle.
“FUCK! Oh, baby!” she squealed when he yanked her close, grabbed her thighs, and entered her. His loud panting drew her attention as she observed trickles of shimmery sweat tiptoe down his muscular, tattooed chest. They locked eyes while he rocked into her with the slow, deep thrusts.
“Wrap yo’ big ass, sexy legs around me, baby,” he ordered, gasping for air and rocking his rod inside her. Doing as told, she pulled him close, her arms becoming numb as he made love to her. He rode her into the hard, jagged angles of the wall behind her. The chains and restraints rattled with each plunge. Then, his eyes suddenly turned bright purple, altering the room into the most beautiful shade of magenta.
And he came, with an unholy roar.
With a heavy fist, he hit the wall behind her, crumbling the brickwork and causing the room to shake. He buried his face in her neck. His body jerked, his beautiful chest and arm muscles tightened, and he went into uncontrollable spasms from the waist down as he released hard within her. His cum felt like warm milk for her soul…
“That’s it, Saint… write your name inside my pussy, baby. It’s flowin’ straight to my heart…” She could almost feel his energy increasing, the irritability and lethargy lifting away from him like the curse that it was.
Mya sang “Ready For Whatever” as he slowly lifted his chin and smiled at her. Beautiful white teeth glowed in the room, and black curls fell around his face as he leaned forward and took one of her breasts in his mouth. Eager tongue strokes morphed into love bites and hard sucks, making her shudder against him. Squelching an orgasmic scream, she came hard as he pumped the head of his cock against her clit and played with her tits. At last, he released her tired arms. She blinked a few times, feeling her energy draining after all that she’d given him.
Like a feather, she dropped to her knees in a heap of human need and freshly spun desire. Gripping his hips, she rotated the tip of her tongue around the thick, heavy head of his dick. He stared down at her with a sexy, dangerous smirk on his face. Grabbing his hand, she placed it on her head, doing the honors until she was half way down on his shaft. His raucous, deep groan rumbled through her core. Closing her eyes, she fell under his hazardous spell, sucking his dick, deep throating it, needing it with every fiber in her being. She reached between her legs and played with her pussy, faster and faster, as he jerked her head back and forth, fucking her mouth with fortitude. From the sky floated black and white feathers … soft, pillowy, mysterious. She didn’t know where they were coming from, but they landed softly and in abundance all around…
Wrapping his hand around her neck, she locked gazes with the man, and paused. The entire eye socket was silver, shining like diamonds and platinum.
My God…
The light from him was almost blinding.
“Let me taste you…” she whispered, unable to speak any louder. She was floating in some dream, trapped by her own will with a man that was purging, stealing, fighting his inner demons and angels with gluttonous energy. His lust now consumed them both, though she could feel his struggle, still trying to protect her from the monster he’d become. “Yeeessss, baby…” She swallowed the velvety secretion as it flooded her mouth.
He shoved himself further between her lips, forcing her to gag as he shot more cum down her throat. When he’d emptied himself, instead of kissing her forehead and bringing her up from the floor into an embrace, he snatched her roughly, wrapped his arms around her waist, and swayed with her. She closed her eyes as her knees almost gave way—but he carried the load. Time seemed to stand still…
She felt cool steel against her back and the man deep within her, ripping at her soul as he howled and released over and over again. Moments later, the insistent buzz of a vibrator sounded, pressed against her clit. He laid her down on the floor, driving his wet tongue inside her ass, clawing his way up and down her body.
Saint made love to her…
He ruthlessly fucked her…
He drove his tongue, fingers, and cock inside her, everywhere he could fit them. One moment she pleaded for mercy, the next she begged him to stay. She cursed his name, then was glad that he came. Her body was his to own, their chakras intertwined, locked and loaded. He tore her apart to build hi
mself back up.
And she let him…
All…
Night…
Long…
CHAPTER TWENTY
Once you dip your soul into the river of the vile, you are forever unclean…
Saint sat in the strange church that smelled of old books and the smolder of thick white candles. Cruz sat to his left, Lawrence to his right, and Jagger directly across from him, beside the Satanic Priest—or ex-Satanic priest, now a Christian minister. Cruz had introduced them after Saint’s recent reports of bad dreams, and other nefarious self-inflicted circumstances that left him ill at ease.
“So.” The short, balding man clasped his hands together and glared at Saint with dark brown, warm eyes. “You had some sort of sleep paralysis and were attacked by a demon, the Demon of Lust.”
“Yes.” Saint cleared his throat, choking on the lie to aid in an effort toward simplicity, but what could he do?
“Okay.” Pastor Preston took a deep breath and exhaled. “Saint, if that is true, then you need to be examined by a Catholic priest and you need to be exorcised. As you already know, this is to ensure you have no residual contamination from the encounter.” They all nodded in agreement. “Fr. Ophellius is on his way.” The man glanced down at his watch. “He should be here in less than twenty minutes.”
“I did do a cleansing over him last night, to help get the ball rolling. We have a friend from India who is proficient at cleanings, but it would take him a while to get to New York, so we wished to not delay the matter and have it addressed as soon as possible.”
“That was wise of you.” The man cocked his head to the side, looking Saint up and down. “Mr. Aknaten, have you been possessed before? At least to your knowledge?”
“Yes.” Saint swallowed. “This is not the first time.”
“Who cleansed you the first time?”
“Our friend from India that I mentioned,” Lawrence answered on his behalf.
Pastor Preston nodded. “There’s something in your eyes… something is going on. Are you on any prescriptions for any medical conditions?”
“Other than the occasional over the counter medicine, no.”
“Do you have hallucinations? Seizures?”
“No.”
“Your eyes are dilated…” The minister slowly got to his feet, stood before him, and tipped Saint’s head back with a tip of his chin. “Dear God…” Saint’s eyes turned coal black right before him. “Excuse me.” The man quickly turned on his heels and marched out of the room, closing and locking the door behind him.
“Saint, you just intentionally scared an ex-Satanic priest. That was no small feat. Anyway, why did you let him see that?” Cruz questioned, a tinge of anger in his tone. “You could have made him rush out of here and never return.”
“He’ll be back.” Saint yawned, fighting the desire for a nap before the hammer came down.
“That’s not the possession. That’s you. What a time to play games.”
“I wasn’t playing games, Cruz. I did it because he wasn’t taking us seriously.” Saint sighed, then crossed his arms. “He gets people that walk in here all the fuckin’ time talking a bunch of mess. They know his background; they mess with him. He knows what true evil is. He’s seen it, but not to this level. He’s not seen what I’ve seen, and most haven’t. He needed to understand we’re the real deal so he can stop dragging his feet. Something evil is growing inside of me… I need it out, and I need it out now.”
They all looked at one another, while Saint stared straight ahead. Whatever parting gifts had been garnered from his encounters needed to be plucked from his spirit. He had no doubt about it when he woke up that morning with a knife in his hand, but could not recall even walking down into the kitchen…
Pam sat in the back of the Lyft as she glared up at the Lowell Hotel in the Upper East Side. On a swallow, she opened the door, whimpered a barely audible ‘thank you’ to the driver, then stood there holding her green and pink polka dot overnight bag with a death grip. It had seemed so perfect when she’d initially hatched the plan. After two more dates with Gaspar, she was ready to seal the damn deal, but the man acted so freaking upstanding, it was hard to get him to give her a feel, let alone fuck their way to ecstasy.
Girl, you know you got this. It’s like riding a bike. I’ll rock his Portuguese Santa Claus lookin’ ass to heaven, the North Pole, and back to Lisbon! He must notta heard about me! I’m Pamela, damn it! Remember that name, mothafucka…
The man had hesitated to even kiss her after their first date, but when they did, she felt like a little girl, her stomach doing summersaults. He was such a damn gentleman. He made her laugh with his stories and smile with his romantic words. Holding her chin high, she marched her ass up to the door and was greeted by a doorman dressed in a white blazer and hat.
“Good afternoon,” the man said. “Welcome to the Lowell Hotel.”
Tossing him a nervous smile, she walked under the intricate pink awning and entered the establishment. She made her way to the counter where she set her bag on the floor beside her.
She cleared her throat. “Hello. I have a reservation.”
I sounded like Xenia’s snooty ass just then…
She smirked, then swallowed her urge to laugh at herself.
“What’s your name, ma’am?”
“Pamela Anderson.” The Hispanic woman behind the counter gave her the side eye.
“Look, little girl, I paid in advance so if I say that my name is Pamela Anderson, and you see that Baywatch bitch in that there database, then that’s what the hell it is!” The desk clerk turned bright red as she stifled laughter. The young lady shook her head, but kept her head down while she searched the computer.
“Okay, Ms. Anderson. Yes, I see the room was paid for in advance. I still need your I.D., however.” Pam reached into her purse and shoved her California driver’s license in front of the woman, who then handed it back to her and went over the laws of the land. “You’re a little early, but the room is ready if you’d like to check in now.”
“Of course I want to check in now. You think I’m still standin’ here just because you’re so cute?” She snatched her bag up from the floor and tossed her weight from side to side.
“Well, you know, you may have wanted to wait in the lobby because you have a meeting with David Hasselhoff first,” the girl stated, then burst out laughing so hard, her eyes nearly crossed.
“If I wasn’t in a hurry I’d ask for your manager, you little smartass. Anyway, give me my key.” Pam showed her palm. “It’s time for Santa to get his little Ho, Ho, Ho …”
Krishna sat at the long white table in his living room with a stack of blank paper and an ink pen. He coughed once again, unable to shake his cold that refused to let go. Regardless, he had a bit more energy this morning, and wished to take care of some pressing tasks. He had debated calling Saint, but figured a letter would be more fitting…
Dear Saint,
In the past seven days, I have yet to go to sleep and not dream of you. Seven days, seven dreams, seven angels, seven demons…
You have angered the demonic powers that be in such a way that they are seeking revenge. I am certain you are aware of this. Thus, you are haunted. I can feel the torment of your soul, and I am proud that you accept this torment is not forever, but a necessary process of your journey. I wish I could promise you glory from here on out, but that would be false. Your strength, love for others, fierceness, and loyalty have infuriated our enemies to the point of no return. Whatever you did to Asmodeus is a story for the ages.
I could feel their anger, Saint. There have been meetings about you in the underworld. They called you by name. When I spoke to you about your encounter with the dark prince of lust, you did not wish to discuss the details. It had cut too close to home. It was too disturbing for you to utter the words. From my understanding, you have not even confided the truth of what you saw with your wife, or your closest friends. Saint, you cannot keep it all in
side, but I know I cannot force you. Just remember, they want you to keep their secrets because they know you are ashamed of your past. That’s one of your challenges, to allow others inside. We can discuss this further if you wish at a later date, but for now, I need to get to my main point of this letter.
There is another challenge coming, and I’ve warned you many times about this. Saint, I do not know the details or I’d tell you, but I saw the earth heaving and moving. In order to better your odds, you need to keep your strength up, stay true to the things you believe in, as difficult as it is. You also need to have recreation, to be around people who give you joy and make you laugh. This is all fuel for you, the love around you.
That love resonates from your wife as well. She is able to aid you in gaining your zapped energy back after each encounter. You are blessed in that regard. Not all men in your position are able to do such. Love is the cure; lovemaking is medicine. Speaking of lovemaking, a baby is coming into the world soon—a very special little boy to whom you shall be entrusted as his godfather. Cruz’s son is very important, Saint. He represents the next generation of warriors, just as your children do. Cruz had to learn how to love, but you were born with this capacity.
You must help teach this baby how to be a light in a dark place. Cruz is the beginning of new lineage. There is none other like him that have lived and survived. He was chosen. You are his mentor, his guide. You are responsible for him and I know you take great pride in that. The fact that he will now have an heir is a serious threat to the underworld. Cruz is charged with treason, and his offspring will be forever marked. Now that you’ve protected him with your blood and trained him, he is not easily controlled. He is a force, stronger than people realize, even you. You were born to lead, Saint. You have good intuition, and have surrounded yourself with the right people for these battles. It’s not the number of warriors that wins wars; it’s the amount of fight in their hearts…
