“You will ride my cock for me,” he growled, his voice vibrating past my ear. “But only once I have buried it deep inside your throat.”
I was back on the bed, the satin cushioning my knees as he stood by the edge, towering over me, the scent of his flesh taunting as wordlessly, he urged my arms around him. I didn’t fight him. For one thing, I was becoming disconcertingly used to the way he could control my body with silent commands, the same way he could bury himself in my mind without my permission. It drove me insane, but at times like this, it was mesmerizing. The sense of being only a thing he could maneuver, a thing for him to manipulate for our mutual pleasure, it spiked the indignation in my brain, yet simultaneously, it aroused me, inciting those dark needs I had buried for so long. For another thing, though, I knew the fight was futile. He was too strong, too powerful, and too damn corrupt for me to take on. There was no hope of success, and increasingly, it seemed the prophecy he had spoken was true—I was his. He had come and, rather than destroying me, he had chosen to take me over instead, and now, God help me, I wanted it. I wanted him to dominate me, to take the leash and restrain me with it. I wanted his lips at my body, his flesh on mine, and his erection thrust deep within my warmth. I hated myself for admitting it, but it was true. Satan set me on fire in ways no beast ever should. His authority awakened salacious needs in me, parts I had suppressed, but they had always been there. I had known this much longer than I’d known him.
“Yes, Master.” My tone was breathless as his cock sprung forth from the leather that had confined it, and on impulse, I ran my tongue over my lips, hungrily.
Jesus, I did want him. I wanted to taste him, to satisfy him, and to be choked by the member looming in my direction. Perhaps there was no hope left for a woman who wanted those things, but I was that woman. A kneeling, melting puddle of need, desperate to meet his approval, and Satan-willing, finally receive the gratification he had denied me in the woods.
“You shall not require your hands for this act.” I caught the devilish glint in his eyes as my hands slid to the small of my back. As expected, when my fingers met, I had no control over them, and there was no way I could bring them back to my sides, let alone to the tantalizing shaft he had thrust in front of me. “I only want to feel the hot cavern of your throat as I possess it.”
I smiled at the way he put that.
Possess it.
That was entirely perfect, wasn’t it?
That’s what demons did—oppressed until the mortal relinquished control, then they possessed. That was what he was doing to me. I knew it, so why didn’t I care? Why was the aching craving at my core so great that I couldn’t ignore it? Why did my head swim with lust at the mere sight of him?
For the first time in my life, nothing made any sense.
There was no order and control. No prayer in the old dusty books inherited from my mother that could sway the longing swirling inside me. No other power in the world that could satiate this need, except his, except the dark glimmer in his gaze and his cock, the irrefutable itch I had to scratch.
“Cathy.” His hand appeared at the side of my face, and I leaned into his feigned warmth, wanting the reassurance despite my resolve. I was still human, after all. Still only a weak mortal, a fate not assigned to him. “Tell me you want this.”
My brow creased at the command. What was that in his voice? Uncertainty? The need for affirmation and consent—hardly the traits most associated with the leader of Hell. “I want it, Master,” I answered unthinkingly, allowing my body to do as it pleased. “I want to quench your thirst, and then, maybe you’ll assuage mine?”
I knew it was bold to put my cards on the table this way, to lay out my vulnerabilities and desires, but there it was. Bold, or perhaps, merely stupid—I had done it, regardless. I was more naked to him now than I had ever been.
Satan nodded, his lips curling slightly. “As it should be,” he concurred. “You shall please me, and then, if you are my good little Guardian, we shall think of your pleasure.”
My eyes closed at his verdict, an unnerving sense of repletion falling over me because of it, though I had no idea why. That little pet name he had taken to using—his little Guardian—it had started as a way to mock me and denigrate my comparative lack of power, yet somehow, it had morphed into something almost affectionate. I looked for the label on his lips and bloomed a little whenever he gifted it to me. I liked the notion of being his, despite the fact it was illogical—the opposite of what I should crave.
“Open now.”
By the time my eyes flitted open, his cock was right there, at my face, and as soon as my lips parted, he lunged forward, pushing it past the threshold of my mouth, and filling my senses with his musky scent. I might have gasped at the way it occupied my throat, but the deed made my response impossible. He thrust farther until the tip of his cock was gagging me, and his aniseed skin grazed my nostrils. Fighting for air, I tipped my head back, searching for his gaze as I choked around his hard length.
“Stay where you are.” His fingers skimmed my cheek, catching the first tears that fell at his intrusion. “This is just as it should be, as it will always be between us.”
Withdrawing just enough to allow a ragged breath in through my nose, his fingers rose to bury themselves in my hair. “You naked and on your knees, recognizing your deference to me, your master.”
There was no time or consideration to answer him, his shaft already on its way back toward me, and once again, I retched as it delved deeper.
“Yes.” I could hear the satisfaction in his tone. “Yes, take all of me.” He withdrew, before slamming back past my lips, his flavor permeating every part of me as I blinked back the tears.
So, this was what it was to be owned by another, to be nothing but a vessel for pleasure. In the moments I had dared to think of such depravity, I had always assumed my defiance in the face of such authority. That I would kick and scream at the man who tried to subdue me, but I had never factored in Satan. He was so much more than any man, and he had proved to be more than a match for me. As it turned out, the cock bursting into my throat was not unwelcome. Fierce it might be, but not uninvited, brutal perhaps, but also enticing. Each thrust pooled another wave of desire at my sex. My clitoris ached each time my breath was stifled. A disturbing paradox had been created. In order to achieve the highs I wanted to soar to, I needed him to use me, to govern and guide me. The unthinkable had happened, and the sovereign woman I had once been was now happiest fettered on her knees, capitulating to his growing passion, swimming in the ardor of our merging passion.
He crashed past my lips once more, claiming my mouth until I was filled with him, and there he waited, his hand at the back of my head as the soft hair at his groin tickled my nose.
Master. Normally, he moved away at this point, at least enough for my nostrils to garner sufficient air, but not this time. Now, he seemed content to keep me there, impaled and full of his cock, like some twisted gargoyle at the entrance to a Medieval monastery.
Master.
Panicking, I willed the word to him in my head again, knowing he would hear it, and praying he would respond.
That’s how bad things had become. That was how low I had fallen. The woman, once charged with saving the souls of those around her, was now forced to pray to the devil himself for mercy and relief.
“Hold still.” His voice was like a snarl. “Hold still and give in to me, little Guardian. Hold still and know your place. Right now, you are useful for one thing only, and that is polishing my cock. Soon you shall offer other uses, too.”
His words did little to reassure me, his insistent cocktip still bruising the back of my throat, the air barely able to reach me as he pushed my face flush against his flesh.
“Ah, you are perfect.”
I felt his cock pulse in my mouth, an indication of his surging desire.
“Made for my mastery.”
Even though frantic fear was pinballing around my head at the way he had me t
rapped there, fleetingly, I wondered if he was right. I was wet with need at the treatment. For all his ferocity, it inspired yearning—powerful, blossoming longing—that meant I would have moaned for more had he enabled me to do so.
He released me then, his hand withdrawing at the exact moment his cock did, and I fell forward against his hip, reeling as a pool of saliva fell free between our bodies. “It is too good.” There was amusement in his voice, and my head swam as I blinked the saltwater from my eyes. “You are too good. Much more of that, and I shall forget you are mortal after all, overlook the fact you need the air to fill your pretty lungs.”
Falling to his haunches, his dark gaze met mine, those large palms rising to gently collect my face in his hands. “Do not worry, though,” he cajoled. “I did not forget, Cathy. I shall not forget.”
Panting, my lashes matted with tears, I regarded his smile, trying to decide if he was teasing me, but it was impossible to tell.
“I am going to come all over your pretty face,” he growled, his tone deeper as he described the act. “And then I am going to fuck you harder than you have ever been fucked before. One of the many benefits of a demon lover, as Damon may have elaborated, is that we are always ready for passion. We do not need time to recover the way men do.”
He was gone then, rising back to his full height beside me, one hand rising back to my hair and grasping it tightly in his fist. I winced at the sensation, still trying to catch my breath from the earlier onslaught, but there was no time. His shaft was right there at my face again, his palm angling my face up to meet his swollen need.
“Open your mouth,” he ordered. “Beg for my cum and then open your lips to receive it.”
My head spun at the instruction, but I noticed the way my nipples tightened, my body betraying my want, in spite of me.
“Now, Cathy.” Using his other hand, he fisted his engorged shaft over my face. “Do not disappoint me.”
“Master,” I croaked the word, as though my vocal cords were still trying to recover. “Please allow me to have your cum.” It was easier to beg for than I had anticipated, and even though I felt my slick arousal burgeon at the sound of my own pitiful plea, it didn’t humiliate as much as I had assumed it would. I craved for him to come, after all. I yearned to taste him. “Please, Master.”
He didn’t make me wait long, the first burst of hot liquid splashing over my lips and nose even before my mouth parted to receive it properly. I didn’t try to move as it coated me, not that I could have done with his fingers lodged so firmly in my hair, but the thought didn’t even cross my mind.
This was it.
This was what I had been waiting for.
Denigration.
Degradation.
Possession.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Satan
Once upon a time, I was locked out of heaven. Thrown from the pearly gates down into the dark abyss, and when I was cast out, the monolithic entity in the sky had vowed I would never know contentment again. Never know what it was like to soar, never lift my face to the light, but as with so many things, that creature had been wrong. I did know nirvana. I knew the bliss of flying high above the clouds, to the places they said only angels danced, and after all the long years of knowing no carnality, I was finally back there in the heavens—thanks to Cathy.
The tiny blonde on her knees elevated me, made me more than I truly was, and as I painted her face with my seed, a serenity I could not recall experiencing before flowed through me, reiterating what I had already concluded. I had to keep her. I could not let a gem such as her go free, and any thoughts of obliteration were over. Cathy was mine, and I wanted it to stay that way, for as long as I craved this satisfaction, or as long as I wanted to smile, and the only way of ensuring that happened was to do the unthinkable—I would have to take her to Hell with me.
The realization landed like a slap in the face, stinging more than was reasonable in the circumstances. There was I, cock in my grasp as the high began to ebb, and all at once, my head was full of inevitability, of what I would have to do to achieve my selfish end. And it was driven by self, of that there was no doubt, though, in the depravity, I coveted her happiness as well. I would bestow pleasure, after endless pleasure over the woman, until her head swam with the gratification, and she forgot what it was to be a Guardian altogether.
I could do that.
I could cloud her head until hedonism was all she breathed, and desire everything she lived for. It would not be such a large challenge for a demon as supreme as me, and pleasuring her would certainly not be a chore.
“Ride me.”
I sprawled out on the bed by her side, signaling for Cathy to come and join me. She turned at the gesture, her cheeks blushing, a fine contrast for the white cum strewn over her mouth.
“But Master, I am still bound.”
“I know, yet you will obey, little Guardian. Impress me.” I flashed her a smile, settling back and enjoying the show as she began the humiliating journey from the place she knelt to straddle me.
Her thighs shook with the exertion, all the effort on them and her knees as she inched past my feet to my waiting member, but there was no risk of her falling. I would never let that happen, and as she neared, I took in the full extent of the fettered, eager woman climbing up my body. What a sight she was. A face full of cum, her tits jutting out wonderfully with the bondage and her face burning with embarrassment by the time she had hobbled into place. I spread my legs, ensuring her thighs were splayed wider by default, and staring into her deep gaze, I lined my cock up to her wet sex before thrusting north and impaling her.
Cathy cried out at the offensive, her body rocking forward and almost folding over me, but I willed her back into position, helping her to balance with just the intensity of my gaze.
“Now, ride me.” I leaned up, reaching for her beading nipples, and lengthened them between my fingertips.
Groaning, she arched at the stimulation, her hips rocking between us, their rhythm taunting my already desperate erection.
“That is it,” I praised, pinching her sensitive buds as she lifted up the length of me before pushing her wet cunt back down again. “You are sublime, Cathy. A goddess of divinity as you take your master’s cock.”
“Oh.” Her eyes fell shut as I filled her once more, yet still, her hips danced, her sex gripping my shaft as she gyrated. “Oh, it feels so good.”
“Yes,” I encouraged, and this time, I coaxed her forward, ensuring her thighs could manage the pressure as I pulled her nipples harder. My cock drove into her, empowered by the tilted angle of her cunt, and now I could truly possess her. Wrapping my arms around her back and holding her easily against me, I opened her hips wider and slammed into her soaking flesh. She was so wet for me, so needy and wanton, and from this angle, I could fill her with ease while still having her over me, the scent of her honeyed hair in my nostrils as one hand squeezed her punished ass, opening her sex for the relentless mission of my cock.
“Fuck!” she panted the word, her neck straining to lift her face so she could meet my gaze. “Master, it’s too much. Please!”
“It is not too much,” I assured her, rewarding her wriggling hips with one hard swat to her upturned backside. “You are here to be fucked, and fucked, you shall be. Feel how I slide in and out of your wet slit. Owning and possessing you, reminding you what it is like to be a woman. How wonderful it is to be had.”
Her lips parted at that, her thoughts scattering as I lunged deep within her folds.
“You have missed it, have you not?”
“Yes, Master.” Her response was immediate as I probed, sliding into her until she sat snugly at my balls, her tight cunt stretching to accommodate me. “You have missed the carnality of our connection? You have longed for it.”
I glowered at her, reaching beyond the velvety confines of her mind and exploring somewhere far more private. Somewhere mortals seldom analyzed. Somewhere some even denied the existence of—into her s
oul. It was there that I was surrounded by her real beauty. Even an old devil as base as me could sense it there, its wonder enveloping my human guise as I pounded her, the primal gasps coming from her lips growing louder as the pleasure loomed. She was incredible, more than I could have dared to hope. More than any mortal I had ever known. Cathy’s light swathed over her, even as my darkness reigned, and as our bodies fused, that illumination touched me, warming my empty shell, and filling the space that might have housed my heart.
“You are going to come for me.” I spat the command at her, lifting my hips to ensure her clit grazed my groin as she pushed forward to accept more of my insistent pleasure. “You are going to splinter into a million pieces that only your master can collect and regroup, and then, once you are scattered, I am going to pound you from behind, Cathy, and this time, I will not be gentle.”
Her eyes widened as though she was going to defy me, her thoughts confirming the disparity that ran through her mind.
You call this gentle?
I grinned at her assessment, nodding my head though my gaze never left hers. “Oh yes,” I murmured. “By comparison, this will feel tender, little Guardian.”
“Fuck.” She squeezed the word out as if it pained her. “Please, I can’t take much more.”
“Then do not,” I breathed. “That greedy little clit wants to come, I know it does. Trapped between our rhythm, it is a slave to our lust, Cathy. A hostage to the carnality we share, and I am never going to let it go.”
Her head fell against my chest, the weight apparently no longer tolerable in the face of such relentless pleasure. “Yes, Master.” She sounded close to tears again. “Yes, I want to come.”
“And you will.” I smirked, safe in the knowledge I had her just where I wanted her—right on the edge of sanity. “Come for me now. Explode around my cock and take me with you.”
The hand at her lower back rose, fisting her hair as she exploded, her cunt detonating while I was still lodged deep inside, and while the sensation did not come close to rivaling the enormity of my own climax, it was still astonishing to be there with her. I watched as she initially fought the wave, capturing the moment she ceded to its intensity in my memory for all time. An image I was sure to relive over and over, through all the ages I ruled. Relaxing my grip on her, I rose to my elbows, witnessing the writhing woman’s rapture as she panted over my body.
Damn Me: A Paranormal Demon Romance (The Demonology Series Book 4) Page 16
