by C. A. Rene
"Kill me?"
His hands land at the foot of my bed and he begins to crawl up my body. His face looks menacing and I try to make my body move, but the combination of fear and liquor is making that impossible.
I notice two things right away, one, he has only a pair of boxers on and his gorgeous, bronzed skin shimmers, two, he has a switchblade in his hand.
Why the fuck does he have a knife in his hand?
I shimmy away from him and pull myself up against the headboard but he just keeps coming until he’s hovering over my body, his face in front of mine.
“I can see your neck pulsing rapidly with fear.” He utters. “Why are you scared?”
“You just said you wanted to kill me.” I whisper and then yelp when he yanks the covers off my body. I begin to shake with pure fear.
“If that's what I want to do, you can’t stop it.” I watch his full lips turn up into a cruel grin, showcasing his bright white teeth. “You belong to me.”
I open my mouth to rebuke him but he begins to lightly scrape the blade up my left leg. I don’t take this lightly given the fact he carved into my ass not too long ago. The scar is still angry and red.
He slides back down and his face brushes over my breasts then my stomach.
"I've always loved the power a sharpened blade holds," his breath is warm against my thigh. "It can lightly scrape the finest hair from the surface of the skin, or it can pierce the flesh and spill its secrets."
The knife continues its ascent and he flicks it against the strap of my underwear where my thigh meets my core.
"Raiden..." I trail off, fear stealing my thoughts.
He continues to push aside my underwear with that knife, slowly exposing me, and letting the blade's tip graze my pussy.
"I can smell how turned on you are." His voice deepens with arousal.
My body begins to tremble with want and fear, a tantalizing mix.
"You want me inside of you?" He asks and I mewl at his words.
Yes.
"Do you want my tongue to slip through your wet pussy?" I have never had anyone talk to me this way before. I've especially never had anyone hold a knife to my pussy either.
"Raiden," I tense as the cold metal presses closer. "I want those things, without the knife."
"But the knife makes it interesting and a little bit dangerous." He says that last word like he's starving and staring at an open buffet.
He reaches up and grabs my underwear, ripping it from my body. I suck in a breath, readying myself to scream when his large hand slaps down over my mouth.
"Shh, demon girl." He whispers as his face looms above mine. "We don't want to wake the house."
His hardness presses into my thigh and I arch my back trying to bring it closer to my core. I don’t know what happens to my common sense whenever Raiden comes around but it’s clear the bitch is nowhere to be found. This is a man that rips the clothes off my body and holds a knife to my pussy.
Nowhere to be fucking found.
“Have you ever tasted another person’s blood before?” He whispers.
I can’t answer with his hand over my mouth so I shake my head.
“It’s nothing like when you taste your own.” He dips his head and licks over the freshly healed cut on my neck. “Blood is like wine, it holds hints of flavors telling you about each person. Even Catholic churches tell you to drink the blood of Christ and eat his flesh, so it can’t be wrong.” He says sarcastically.
His words should be disarming but his voice somehow erases my fear and I gasp when I feel his touch at my opening. My muffled moan becomes a squeak when what I thought were his fingers is a hard object slowly being inserted inside me.
My hands land on his chest and I try to push him away, he’s sticking the handle of his knife inside me. His hand comes off my mouth and he leans down, his lips just a breadth’s width away from mine.
“Don’t fight it,” his eyes hold me in place. “Maybe I’ll reward you with a taste of my blood.”
“I don’t need to taste your blood to know you, Raiden.” I say to him and he stops pushing the fucking knife into me. “I heard your music tonight, everything you can’t say, even things you don’t sing, I can hear them in your voice and you have mountains of anger that reside in the deep valleys of your pain.”
His head rears back a bit as he quickly covers up his shocked expression. The knife is removed from me and then the blade is suddenly piercing the skin on my inner thigh. His hand is back over my mouth just in time to catch my scream and his golden green eyes watch with rapture at my obvious discomfort.
His head dips and I feel his tongue lap at the running blood, then his mouth seals around the shallow puncture. He takes three quick swallows and comes back up to my face. His mouth is lined with my blood and my stomach rolls but my pussy clenches.
The hand comes off my mouth and I suck in a lungful of air. His mouth lowers closer to mine and instead of wanting to slap the shit out of him, I’m wanting his lips on mine. I want to taste my blood inside of his mouth, I want to know what we taste like mixed together and if that concoction is as addictive as I think it would be.
“You want to kiss me, demon?” He asks with that devilish smirk.
“You sound fucking insane, Raiden.” I pant. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
His eyes stay trained on my mouth and I watch as his twists up into a delicious grin. I want that mouth even though I shouldn’t.
I lick my lips, hoping, anticipating he gives me exactly what I’m craving. He shoves himself up off the bed and tosses the knife beside my head.
“I don’t kiss.” He states and starts for the door.
“Why not?”
That’s what I ask right now? Why not?
“Because it gives females hope for something they’ll never have.” He looks at me over his shoulder. “I can never keep them for long.”
Then he’s gone and I look down to my bleeding thigh, I’ll be lucky to leave here with any blood left in my fucking body.
I grab the knife up from beside me and stare at the bolt of lightning, then I turn it to the other side and see a cyclone.
What is the cyclone for?
Chapter Thirteen
Tempest
It’s late afternoon by the time I roll out of bed. I would think last night was all a dream if I didn't see the bloody sheets and the cut on my leg. I guess that’s how Raiden wanted to announce his arrival.
The girls are out on the beach, soaking up the sun, and having drinks. I don’t see Deluge anywhere and the thought of drinking again has me gagging. I find Sky in the dining room and snort when I see she looks just as bad as I do.
“One down.” She moans and grips her head.
“It’s not so bad.” I chide her and grab up some of the food laid out.
“Let’s see how it goes tonight.” She moans and lays her face against the cool wood tabletop.
“Let’s avoid tequila tonight.” I say as I shovel some chicken and rice into my mouth.
“Tequila is a gift from Satan.” I hear a low grumble and turn quickly towards the voice.
It’s the guy that was with Raiden the first night we… met. I know it, even though I’ve never seen his face until now, I can see it in the way he walks and his stature.
His skin color is a bit darker than Raiden’s and his eyes are golden, but they have the same mouth. He also doesn’t have the piercings in his nose and his hair is braided into cornrows.
“Torrent.” He holds his hand out to me.
I drop my fork and slowly shake his hand. Then he leans over and does the same to Sky. She shakes his hand like it’s a dirty wet rag and I snort at her again.
“Sky and Tempest, right?” He asks.
"In the flesh." Sky says around a mouthful of food.
"And blood." I mutter.
Torrent laughs and the sound does not match his looks. It's jolly and addictive, before I even realize it, I'm joining in. Even Sky is chuckling.
/> I get a glimpse at his tongue and gasp when I see the forks.
"You're the one with his tongue forked." I exclaim and he nods.
"Made in his image, right?" He winks at me.
I look at him confused and Sky huffs.
"Makes all the fucking sense," she chews audibly. "You're all Satan worshipers."
"Wrong." He shakes his head. "We worship no one but ourselves, there's no god telling us what we have to do to get into this 'Heaven' and we live what short lives we have here to the fullest."
I like what he's saying, I was never raised to be anything in particular, and what I did see of people that went to church were stiff, snobby individuals.
"Sounds really self-serving." Sky retorts.
"It should be." He grins at her. "Why serve others when no one is serving you?"
"Existential debates." The one named Squall comes into the room. "Sounds like the celebrations are truly beginning."
He's not as tall as Torrent and Raiden, but he's just as wide. He's built thick and where they are darker skinned with dark hair, he's pale with white hair. I can't decide if it's dyed or natural since his eyebrows are just as light. He has freckles dusting his cheeks and his mouth is curved into a cute, dimpled smile.
"Sky here thinks we are selfish men out to serve only ourselves." Torrent grins at her.
"And?" Squall asks.
His answer makes both me and Torrent laugh, even Sky has a ghost of a smile on her face.
Hail comes in next and he's shirtless with a pair of low-slung gray track pants on. I immediately zoom into the outline that's resting against his thigh. His thigh.
His skin is golden, like caramel, and decorated in so many tattoos. He's leaner than the others but he's toned and defined. He's sporting a long graying goatee and his face has age lines, but they make him look good.
His dark eyes land on Sky and the grin that forms is stunning. His teeth, like the others are a bright white and he has a ring in his lip. He's gorgeous.
"Hello, Sky." He croons.
"Hail." She has yet to even look at him.
If I hadn't had an instant attraction to Raiden, Hail would be my type, and he screams trouble which happens to be exactly my fucking type.
"I'm going down to the beach." Sky pushes back her chair. "Coming?" She asks me.
I think of all the girls down there with alcohol and my stomach rolls over.
"I'm gonna head up to my room and chill until this party starts." I rise as well.
The guys stay quiet and as Sky passes Hail he reaches out and brings one of her braids to his nose, breathing deeply. She swats his hand away and the guys all chuckle but I don’t miss the dark look that flashes in his eyes. He didn’t like that.
I reach my room and walk inside to a large man with a habit of cutting into my skin, lounging on my bed. He takes up most of the queen-sized bed and he looks at ease with his hands behind his head.
“Tonight, the dress code is leather, I left you something in your closet.” He rasps and my pussy squeezes.
“Okay.” My voice comes out breathy.
He finally turns to look at me and his eyes are the lightest golden green I’ve seen yet. They pop from his face where everything else looks dark and sinful.
“Come here.” He demands and I am halfway there before I can even think about how desperate I look.
“There are rules tonight.” He reaches out and grabs the hem of my shorts pulling me in closer to his side of the bed.
“What rules?” I ask as I remain standing and looking down at him.
“You do every single thing I tell you to do. Do not disobey me.”
“I’m not your pet.” I snarl and snatch my shorts out of his grip.
“No?” He leans up and snares his fist into the ends of my hair, pulling me roughly down to his level. “I own you and if I fucking tell you to fling your worthless self over a balcony railing, you’ll fucking do it.”
The pain in my scalp has nothing on the shock I feel at his words. He went from looking sexy to downright terrifying in seconds.
He lets me go and sits up. “Don’t disobey, demon. Or I will fling you over a balcony myself.”
Then he’s off the bed and has his hand wrapped around my throat, pushing me to the double doors of my balcony. He swings the doors open and I struggle to remove his hand as he pushes me outside. The railing hits my back as he continues to push me until I’m bowed backwards and struggling to breathe.
“Am I understood?”
I can’t speak and I can barely breathe but I give a small nod. I don’t want to die and if it means I must obey a psychopath to stay alive then that’s what I must do.
Thirty grand.
One week.
I can do this.
Chapter Fourteen
Raiden
I made a knife with an image depicting her name. She’s the first person I’ve met outside of myself with a given name meaning storm. I was named Raiden and the other three decided they wanted names affiliated with a storm, too. And thus, the creation of Deluge.
“Everything is set up?” Squall asks. “They’re really coming here?”
“They want to be witness to our greatest sacrifices yet.” I nod.
We spent many years bending to the will of evil people, doing their bidding, and robbing innocent people of their lives. Our hands are saturated in the blood of the innocent and that weighs heavy on our conscience, no matter how dark our souls may be. Are we completely reformed? Do we repent for all those sins? Fuck no, we’re still fucked up, we still crave the sight of blood, the sight of fear on someone’s face, and we still worship ourselves.
We’re just done with being used and ready to turn the fucking tables on those that decided to fuck with Deluge.
My demon is dancing on a platform with her friend Sky and the blood red leather outfit I gave her looks fucking sinful. Her jet-black hair is bone straight down her back and her makeup is smokey, but those lips are a matching shade to the outfit.
The top is a series of straps strategically placed to cover the bits I don’t want others seeing but designed to look like she’s wearing next to nothing. The skirt is composed of the same straps but hangs loose to mid-thigh and part when she moves her hips. She made the right choice by wearing underwear because I would’ve thrown her off that balcony otherwise.
She has yet to look at me and I smirk knowing she’s pissed off. She’s a little spitfire and I can’t help but get hard at the thought of her snarky behavior. I haven’t taken her yet because I like to chase my prey and the hunt is my favorite part.
Torrent is the first to get up out of his seat and he stalks towards the girl he chose. She looks like a snobby bitch and she reminds me of another that looked similarly. I wonder if they picked her for that reason, to cause torment inside of him, and once again bending us to their will.
He stops in front of her and she turns her back to him and begins to grind her ass into his cock. He lets her do it for all of ten seconds and then he has his fingers twisted into her blonde strands, wrenching a scream from her throat.
He begins to drag her over to our table and the girls slowly stop dancing to watch what’s happening. He stops her right in front of the table and her wide eyes are staring at us with fear. I fucking love that look, it makes me feel godly. He shoves her face down against the wood top and bends over her to say something into her ear.
She nods weakly and a tear slips from one of her eyes. Squall stands, leaning over to her and swipes his thumb along the drop slowly falling across her nose. He pops it in his mouth and I watch as his eyes roll back with pleasure.
Torrent rises, keeping his fingers tightly fisted into her hair, and her face still pressed against the table. He looks around the room as he slowly undoes his belt and a few of the girls cover their mouths with their hands.
I’m sure they’ve heard the rumors about us and the debauchery we get up to, but witnessing it is a whole other story. And if after tonight they want to ru
n, well like I said, the chase is my favorite part.
His belt falls apart and I can see the bulge at the front of his chinos, growing as he watches the girl cry. He yanks up her tiny leather skirt, rips her thong off her body, and tosses it to the center of the table.
My brothers are going to be uncontrollable tonight because they’ve been abstaining, and I start to feel sorry for this girl in front of us, the first to be used. It’s going to be rough, but if she’s smart, she’ll take it and try to find her pleasure through the pain.
Torrent has his pants and boxers down and releases her hair to roll a condom over his dick. These are strippers after all. Then he’s working his way inside her and she begins to cry, her nails clawing into the tabletop. I can only imagine she’s feeling like being ripped open as he continues to shove himself in.
Squall stands and goes around the table to get a better view, his hand running along the hard front of his pants. I don’t know how long he’ll be patient for and I lean my forearms on the table in anticipation.
Torrent finally bottoms out inside of her and she’s stiff, her cries tapering off. I reach forward and pat the top of her head, it’s demeaning but it doesn’t come close to being forced to take a monster cock in front of a crowd.
Torrent begins to pound into her, his hands gripping the globes of her ass, and his neck flexing with his efforts to hold himself together.
Not tonight, brother.
I grin when the girl's cries turn into little moans and I look over to my demon. She’s watching, her body completely still, and her eyes focused. Her friend has her arms crossed over her chest and her jaw clenched. Two completely different reactions, if I didn’t know any better, I would think Tempest is enjoying this show, and I grin when I think of how she might feel nearer to the end of it.
Torrent finishes with a loud groan and I nod my approval. He lasted longer than I thought he would and I watch as Squall drops his pants, rolling the condom over his swollen cock. Torrent pulls out and steps back as Squall takes his place between her legs.