Defy Me: A Paranormal Demon Romance (The Demonology Series Book 2)

by Felicity Brandon

  Twisting my head, I once again took in the place he’d brought me. We were indeed perched on a large but isolated platform on the edge of a rock face. The sky around us was a deep chocolate brown, the horizon outlined in red where the atmosphere met the land.

  “You want to spank me here, Master?”

  The muscles at the apex of my thighs tightened, the gesture sending a clear message to my head, it was no longer the fall that should concern me.

  “I will spank you anywhere.” His eyes flashed with salacious warning. “Anywhere I want, be it in your small crappy room on earth or at the feet of my master.”

  My breath hitched at the thought, but Solomon continued.

  “I just thought this was a compromise. Somewhere private, we can come for me to tan your hide.”

  “A land between being awake and being asleep?” I was breathless and excited like a small child on Christmas eve, but Solomon wasn’t Santa.

  I was waiting on a rocky ledge with my very own personal demon.

  “That is right,” he confirmed with a smile. “Now, bend over and touch your toes, naughty mortal. It is time for your punishment.”

  I swore time protracted as I stood there, his arms around me and his unblinking gaze drilling into me.

  Time for my punishment?

  That’s what he’d said, and despite my raging trepidation, no words had ever sounded sweeter.

  I wanted this. I’d wanted it for so long.

  Even before Gavin, when I was a young child, there had been something about the idea of being spanked that sparked my curiosity—a fascination I could never get over, the genesis of something which made me pause and have to catch my breath. Now, all these years later, this hulking creature was offering to make those fantasies a reality.

  I could barely believe it.

  He released his grip, and on shaky legs, I wandered closer to the rock face before doing as he’d said. It didn’t bother me that I was naked. Solomon had seen it all, and let’s face it, he had access to my deepest, darkest thoughts and fears—I was exposed to him whether I was clothed or not.

  Pulling in a deep breath, my fingers brushed my shins on route down to my ankles, and there I waited, aware he had turned and was now on his way to the place I stood trembling.

  “You did it.” Solomon sounded surprised—almost proud. “You did as you were told.”

  I bit back on a small smile. “I sometimes do, Master,” I breathed, closing my eyes as his hand skimmed over my prone and vulnerable behind.

  Just like in the dream, the heat of his flesh thawed the ice, which seemed to have been carved into my skin over the years, but this was real. At least as his fingers dipped between my legs, it sure as hell felt real.

  “Legs wider.” That had been an order, no doubt about it. “I want you to be stable, but I also want proper access to your scorching little cunt and this delectable hole…” His hand slid north between my cheeks, pressing lightly against my anus. I gasped. Only one man had ever tried to touch me there, and he was now in my master’s dominion.

  “Do not worry.” That same, taunting tone washed over me. “A demon I may be, but I will not hurt you like that. I am not like him.”

  “I know.” My breaths were coming out in short, fast pants as my fingers gripped my ankles. “I know, Master, but the memories…” My voice died in my throat, my eyes squeezing closed as I tried to shut out those recollections from my mind. This wasn’t about Gavin, and I hated that he still had the power to infiltrate my psyche and corrupt the things I wanted. I loathed that he had that authority.

  “He does not.” Solomon’s voice was filled with a certainty I didn’t share. “He has nothing. He is nothing, little mortal, and if that needs further clarification, once we are done here, I will happily take you to where he is sprawled—weak, bleeding, and helpless.”

  “Like he left me…” The tears fell as the words escaped my lips, but there was no way for me to hold them back, and somewhere deep inside, I knew I needed this release.

  Surrendering the control, I’d fought so hard to take back, was cathartic in a way I’d never have believed until now.

  “Perhaps.” Solomon’s fingers lingered at my ass before his hand slid south and splayed at my sex. “But consider this, beautiful. There will be no reprieve for him, no turning back, no second chances. His future is a web of torment and wretchedness, and yours is with me, by my side. An eternity of this.”

  One digit slipped between my moist lips, inducing a gasp from my lips as it pumped in and out.

  “You have hope and opportunity, little mortal, but what does he have?”

  “Nothing.” I hissed the word with feeling, the anger I’d stored for Gavin pouring from me even as Solomon eased a second finger inside my pussy. “He has nothing.”

  “That is right.” I could hear the smile on his face. “He has nothing but despair, and I want you to remember that every single time his ugly face manifests in your mind.” There was a pause as though Solomon wanted that thought to resonate. “Got it?”

  “Yes, Master.” I pressed my lips together, focusing on the exquisite sensation those fingers were creating. “Yes, I understand.”

  “Good.” Solomon’s palm was gone, his fingers vanishing so fast, I was left bereft. “Now, we begin. You will thank me for each swat I deliver and count each one.”

  I will?

  The thought echoed briefly, but any thought of mutiny was quelled by Solomon. Quickly, he cocooned my body, his left hand encircling my throat as he whispered into my right ear.

  “Yes, you fucking will.”

  I wanted to gasp, but the fingers at my neck stole the gesture before it even started.

  “Y-yes, Master.”

  I panted, the first real blooms of panic growing in my mind. I trusted Solomon. I trusted in the things he said, but there was no denying the obvious. He was bigger, stronger, and if push came to shove, he could do what he wanted.

  “Good girl. Are you ready?”

  Was I ready? The question filled my mind, but one deep breath returned my focus to the clear and simple answer.

  Of course, I was ready.

  I’d been ready for this for years.

  “Yes, Master.”

  He vanished as quickly as he’d arrived, the heat of his body disappearing, though I sensed he was still close, and the palm at my hip confirmed my instincts. When that palm left my flesh, I held my breath, the realization of what was about to transpire finally washing over me.

  Solomon was going to spank me.

  Chapter Twenty

  Solomon

  The way she submitted was such a rush. I felt the moment she ceded, her will melting as her body complied. Over all the centuries, I had brought a great many men and women to heel. Some surrendered by choice, coming to me with similar needs as my little mortal, but most had not. They had tried to fight me, their bodies kicking and screaming in protest before they’d acknowledged the inevitable truth of their plights. There was no escaping the clutches of a demon. It did not matter which God they believed in, once I had them in my grasp, no one could save them.

  My lips twitched at the comforting thought, my gaze falling to Tara’s trembling form. The best thing about the wonderful woman, bent over in front of me—she was here by choice. She had commanded my presence and opening her heart to only me, meant I knew precisely what she needed.

  I knew just how to gratify her dark desires, and really, in light of all the things I had seen in my time, her fantasies were not so perverse. In fact, they were tame in comparison to all the depraved things I wanted to do to her.

  The hand resting at her hip rose at the thought, my gaze devouring the look of her bare, exposed little ass just before I brought my hand down over it. A sharp intake of breath was the only indication Tara had registered the strike, that and the way her thoughts had scattered.

  Oh God! There was genuine excitement and not a single flicker of fear. Oh my, he’s spanking me! This is happening.

&
nbsp; “Tara?” I deliberately lowered my tone, grinning as her mind quieted. “What did I ask of you?”

  “Oh.” She shook her head like she was trying to recall. “I’m sorry, Master. Thank you for spanking me. That was one.”

  My smile widened at her eager voice. In so many ways, she was much younger than her mortal years, her attitude and behavior constrained by the mistreatment she had been forced to bear.

  “Better. Don’t make me wait again, though.”

  I spanked her again, harder this time, waiting while she caught her breath and replied with the appropriate answer. There seemed to be no embarrassment, just a desperate need for my approval—the necessity I adored the most.

  “How many do you think you can bear, little Tara?”

  “As many as you say, Master.” She gave the correct reply in a heartbeat, my mind swelling with pride. This was her first time, the only time she had submitted freely to a spanking, and she already knew the drill. She realized what I expected, but more than that, she wanted to give it.

  Without further hesitation, I peppered her appetizing behind with a fast succession of swats, pausing only momentarily to allow her raspy responses. By the time she numbered strike fifteen, her ass was turning an alluring shade of pink, whereas my hand felt nothing at all.

  “How about this pussy?” I shifted my position, so my palm covered her tempting little snatch. “Does that like to be spanked, too?”

  “Mmmm, yes, Master,” she mumbled, a wicked smile on her lips.

  “Very well, then.”

  My hand collided with her exposed pussy a second later, the impact taking her breath away.

  “And?” I knew my brow had arched with the question.

  “I’m sorry,” she panted. “Thank you, Master. That was number sixteen.”

  “Did that naughty pussy like it?”

  “It hurt,” she admitted.

  “But?”

  Tara nibbled at her lower lip. “But I think she did, Master, yes.”

  I laughed at the confession. “That is good news,” I purred as my fingers skimmed over the neat, soft hair remaining on her cunt lips. “She has a great many more swats to come. In fact,” I paused, relishing the way my cock strained at the delightful contact. “I’d be willing to bet I could make you come like this.” The way her breaths sped up was enough to convince me Tara liked the sound of that idea. “Shall we see if I’m right, little mortal?”

  “Master?”

  “I will spank this exquisite cunt until you are soaking wet and desperate to come, then once you’re drenched with desire for the prospect, you can beg me for release.”

  Her eyes fluttered closed, the humiliation of the act I described filling her mind until she could think of nothing else.

  “Exactly,” I smirked at her thoughts.

  Tara was perfect.

  “I. Will. Keep. Going. Until. You. Are. There.” I punctuated each word with a fresh spank to her cunt lips, pausing after eight swats to allow her to number them.

  “How many now, Tara?” Naturally, I knew the answer since she had just told me, but it was absolutely captivating to watch her fumble for the words, then have to articulate them.

  “Twenty-one, Master.”

  “Only twenty-one?” I repeated in a theatrically disappointed tone. “Well, that will never do, will it?”

  “N-no, Master.”

  “I want you wet and whimpering, little mortal.” I was enjoying myself, reveling in her denigration and her incredible responses.

  She may think those things were hidden from me, bent over as she was, but she would be wrong in that assumption. I could hear her labored breaths, the panting sound amplified by the rocky ledge. I sensed the way her nipples hardened, even though she pressed them into her legs, and each time my palm connected with her pussy, I felt the burgeoning arousal there, the moisture of her hedonism swelling my eager cock.

  “When you are close, I want to hear you beg.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  There was undeniable yearning in her tone, the glorious realization she wanted this every bit as much as I. She needed to be treated this way, to be oppressed by me, and soon, to be possessed by her demon master.

  I took aim, swatting first the peachy cheeks of her prone behind before landing a particularly firm strike on her pussy. The flurry of pain was met with nothing but a small gasp, the sound more reminiscent of hedonism than hurt.

  “Thank you, Master.”

  “How many?” I demanded.

  “Twenty-four.”

  She caught her lower lip between her teeth, and at the same time, there was a fresh pool of arousal at her sex. I wasn’t sure if it was the indignation of the pose, the pain of the spanking, or the sheer ignominy of having to admit the act, but something about the whole thing was driving her wild. Standing there beside her, I sympathized. My cock was so hard, it felt like it was about to explode.

  “We need many more then.” I struck her glistening lips again, targeting them over and over as a barrage of fresh swats rained down over her sensitive flesh. “Enough to bring my naughty mortal right to the edge.”

  I grinned at my words, enjoying how relevant the analogy was as we stood, exposed on the ledge of the cliff face. Of course, Tara was in no real danger. I would never let any harm come to her—there was no way she would fall—but I knew the added danger would do something for her, ratcheting up the tension in her mind, furling the heightening sense of urgency, and the knowledge she was mine. I could take her anywhere, anytime I liked, use her on demand, and she would be kept bare and punished to satiate my needs.

  As though she’d read my mind, her husky tone interrupted my musing.

  “Master, please. I need more!”

  Chuckling at her audacious request, I peppered her ass with a variety of new strikes, each a different intensity and each landing in a slightly different location. I paused after another ten strikes, permitting her to number them before I continued, but now, between each spank, I swept a finger along her moist lips. Her wet warmth enveloped, exciting and inviting me.

  “Stick that ass out,” I commanded, withdrawing my finger to focus on the delightful task of bringing her to climax with nothing but the palm of my hand. “I want to wake up that bundle of nerves at the front of your delicious cunt.”

  The echo of the latest spank rang out around us.

  “It’s awake, Master,” she purred, drawing in her breath between her teeth. “So fucking awake.”

  “Good,” I smirked at her profanity as I struck her again. This time, her back arched even harder, a guttural groan leaking from her lips as she acknowledged the exquisite agony of the spank.

  “I’m close, Master.”

  “How close?”

  As I swatted her sex again—the thirty-sixth time my palm had connected with her sodden flesh—I already knew the answer. Not only could I hear the fogged arousal in her brain—the inability to grasp any concept with clarity, except the single-minded pursuit of the orgasm she chased—I had the pleasure of clarifying the notion for myself. I did not need to touch her to know she was excited. Her pussy lips were swollen with need, the evidence of her hedonism there for the world to see, but there was no one to see her arousal—except me.

  Only me from now on unless I decided to ramp up her humiliation by displaying her to more of my kind. My grin widened at that scintillating prospect, the mental image of her bared and bound in front of my master, pushing my own arousal toward the heavens I abhorred with such intensity.

  “Very.” She forced the reply out with a new exhalation of breath, her small fingers gripping her ankles as though the act was keeping her upright.

  “Let’s. Hear. It. Then.” Each word was accompanied by a hard swat to her dripping pussy, each strike teasing her clit just a little more. “Beg. Me.”

  “Oh, fuck!” I smirked at her hissed response. “That was forty-two, Master.”

  “Beg me.” I lowered my tone, leaning toward her ear. “I want to hear yo
u plead for this release. I want to feel it.”

  “Master.”

  There was a frantic energy in her tone, not just the frustrated hurt of each strike or the irrefutable passion of her arousal, but something more—a trace of fear it might all have been for nothing, and at any moment, I could withdraw and leave her wanting. I had that power now. Hell, I’d always had that power, but Tara had agreed to surrender. She had revealed how base her cravings were and the depths of her desires.

  “Please, let me come, Master. Please,” she panted, trying to catch her breath as my fingers grazed over her needy clit. I found it engorged and more swollen than I’d ever known it, a truly gratifying realization. “I’ll do anything, Master. I’ll be good. I’ll be the best you ever had. Please!”

  “Oh, you are very good, Tara,” I cooed encouragingly. “And I’m sure you will be the best, but those things are a given now.” The tip of my finger brushed over her sensitive bud, eliciting an excited yelp from Tara. “You are mine, beautiful. You already gave yourself to me, so I am going to need much better begging than that.”

  “But Master.”

  Her hips pushed forward, skimming her eager clit against my digits, and with a laugh, I swatted her ass with renewed vigor.

  “I knew you were a naughty one beneath those layers of hurt and betrayal, Tara Levinson, but I would never have believed just how wanton you could be!”

  “Master, please.” She straightened slightly, twisting to lock gazes with me. “I’ll do anything—please, please, just let me come.”

  I arched an eyebrow at her. “Anything?”

  “Fuck, yes!” She practically spat the answer. “Anything, Master. I just need this release. Please! Please allow it.”

  For a moment, I loomed over Tara, watching her delightful torment—the ecstatic agony on her face as the climax threatened to roll over her, the longing in each fiber of her body, her skin alive with sin, and every part of her focused on that one tortuous demand… the pursuit of pleasure.

  She was so fine and such a picture of subservience.

  I had reduced her to this frenzied state of needy submission without the use of any equipment. I had not needed to utilize my dark powers, not a single tether at her wrists or ankles, and no implement was required to command her display—only taken the use of one palm and the low reverberation of a few snarled words.