Angel. The way he said it made it loom over her, as if capitalized. As if, it were a label for an object. She was an object. A luscious, sexy, long-legged fuck object ready to be lovingly brutalized., she turned her head as far as she could with the collar binding her and whispered something into his ear, her voice steady.
He nodded. “Good. Now we can begin. I’m going to hurt you and please you, Rose…and it will be sublime.”
“Whatever you want.” Her voice shivered, a leaf in the wind.
“Whatever you want, Sir. Call me Sir, Angel.”
“Skrike—”
He slapped her cheek lightly, making her scarred flesh sting, and she gasped. “Sir, Rose.”
Her breath caught in her throat; that thrill was there, building slowly in the pit of her belly, flooding her heart and head.
Sir. The word made her heart flutter with forbidden excitement. His big hand reached around and took a thick fistful of her up-bound hair, jerking her head back; her scalp burned as her hair was mercilessly tugged. She could taste his breath as his lips hovered near hers: Camel Turkish Gold cigarettes and sweet wine—and something beneath that.
Fire. Her preternatural senses, heightened even more by her intense sexual arousal. She could smell, even taste, the fire that lived in him—dark, hot and Hellish. That angel living within her screamed and she slammed the door in her mind on it to shut out its cries.
Skriker’s jade eyes glittered greedily. “You will call me Sir, Angel. I will accept nothing else.”
“Yes…Sir. “His tongue snakes along her lips and her mouth opened ardently to his. His kisses were forceful, rough, and hungry, and she responded in kind. Still gripping a fistful of her hair, he pushed her mouth harder against his, lapping and sucking, pulling her full lower lip into his mouth and nibbling at the sensitive flesh. When he drew away from her, she was panting, sweat standing out on her brow in hot wet droplets.
Skriker released her hair and wrists and gripped her arms, jerking her up off the floor. He lifted her up as easily as he would a child, marching into his bedroom with her flung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
Skriker’s big platform bed dominated the center of the room, large and plushly appointed with piles of pillows and expensive bedclothes, including a satin spread, all in masculine shades of dark grey and red. He dumped Rose into the center of it and stood over her, smirking as she lay staring up at him, her body bubbling over with excitement and, yes, even trepidation.
He would possess her as a master does his slave, free to do as he wished with her angel’s flesh; a demon’s true delight. What he had thought up—what he had planned, she could only guess. He was a master of pleasure, and she had to assume, some of that had to cross into pain. It was only natural for one of his kind.
“Spread your legs and pull those sweet panties aside. I want to see it…now.”
Rose did as she was told, her heart pounding. She slipped a hand between her spread thighs and hooked her long fingers into the black thong she had worn just for this occasion, twisting the flimsy fabric aside, revealing the plump dark pink lips of her cunt, already slick with eager fluids.
Skriker folded his arms and grinned, shaking his head. “Well, look at that pretty shaved pussy, all for me. Already dripping wet, too. You’re a naughty, slutty Angel, you know that? Getting all drenched over a Halfling. You like breaking the rules, don’t you, whore?”
Rose did; fuck yes, she did! She was so used to being powerful, being dominant. Hell, when she had met Skriker, she had tried to kill him, and had almost succeeded. She was a Nephil, the first born in millennia and the last on earth—a true princess among the supernatural peasants. And now she found herself in his bed, a beaded silk mask obscuring half her face, ready to obey any command her lover spat at her. He’d called her a whore, a slut. And, shit, she was enjoying the hell out of it.
Skriker pointed a tattooed finger at her. “Take off your corset. Slowly.”
Rose obeyed, her long fingers languidly unsnapping each satin-coated button until her fantastic breasts tumbled free.
“Present them to me, Angel. That’s right, baby…pinch those nips. Make them luscious for me.”
She cupped and lifted her tits, massaging them for his pleasure, her soft rosy nipples coming to high hard tips beneath her appraising fingers, and instantly saw the hunger in his eyes deepen. She noticed the prodigious bulge of his package straining against the front of his jeans. Rose knew that he worshipped her magnificent rack, always had; old Skrike was a tit man, sure enough. For more than half of the time that his enormous dick spent crammed into her pussy, her breasts were in his hands; he loved to suck and lick her nipples as if they were strawberry candy.
A surge of power rose up within her, and she briefly wondered if he would melt for her as he so often did when she presented herself to him. Would the roles suddenly be switched; would her femme allure conquer him once again and playfully ruin his birthday fun? She felt a wave of disappointment wash over her, unexpected and bitter, to think it could be so.
In the end, she was delightfully incorrect on that assumption.
Skriker, still stood with his legs slightly spread his head raised proudly as he barked another command, “Come to the end of the bed, angel. That’s right…crawl to me. Up on your knees.”
Rose kneeled up for him and he grabbed her right breast, roughly massaging and squeezing the full firm globe, his callused fingers pulling and twisting her bullet-hard nipple. She squealed and bucked lightly as he seized her other breast and gave it the same treatment, pinching and rolling its tip between thumb and forefinger, at first light, then harder and stronger.
“You want it so badly, don’t you, angel,” Skriker breathed, his face bending near hers, his breath a ragged butterfly’s kiss against her lips.
She nodded, sweat already trickling down her face, dripping onto her reddened bare breasts as he manhandled them.
He slapped them once, twice, sharp cracks that made her wince and squeal. She was drenched down there; her thong was simply soaked through with hot vaginal juices.
Skriker pressed his mouth to hers again, his kisses hard and brutal as he slapped and pinched her throbbing breasts a few more times. “You’re not going to come until I say you can, baby,” he whispered against her mouth. “You’re going to have to beg for it…and I’m going to have to see how generous I feel. Angel sluts must beg to come, got it? You earn it tonight, Rosie.”
Rose nodded wordlessly, trembling; he kissed her once more, a little softer this time. “Let’s let this hair down,” he breathed, untying the mass of curls she had bound atop her head, letting them cascade down over her back, shoulders and breasts.
He stroked her hair back from her face before pushing three fingers into her mouth, forcing it open wide. His fingers probed her throat, making her gag slightly as he coaxed it to open and relax. “I know you like demon cock,” he breathed as he unzipped his bulging trousers, and, oh, what he pulled out was magnificent, what he jerked in his fist nearly made her come right there. His cock was surely proof that the Maker, on some level, wanted her to be happy; a ten-inch long, rock-hard, thicker than hell, chunk of gristle that was the penile culmination of every woman’s wildest desires.
Skriker released her mouth and his hand snaked around, grasping a fistful of her dark curls for the second time. “Tell me you like demon cock, angel.” His fist was beating that thick, glorious stick of meat, making her nearly reel with desire.
“I like demon cock, Sir,” she breathed.
His eyes glittered, and she saw pinpricks of orange fire shimmering in their sage-colored depths. “How much?”
She shuddered, forcing the shameful words out. “Too much.”
He sighed as he forced her head down and pushed the big snubbed head of his dick into her maw. “No, not too much. Never too much…suck, baby. Swallow that motherfucker for your Master.”
Rose took him deep, sucking and licking, relishing the velvety smoothness of hi
s rod as it slipped against the soft walls of her mouth. Her tongue lapped at the sensitive underside, feeling it harden and swell; Skriker had begun to buck his hips, pushing his tool deeper into her throat, his breathing growing ragged. She swallowed him, her throat opening, feeling him push as deep as he could fit.
She had always been a queen when it came to deep throat blowjobs; she contracted her throat muscles, massaging the head of his dick with a whore’s skill until he was really rocking, sliding in and out of her mouth as his grip on her hair tightened. Beads of sweat trickled down his rippling torso; his tattooed flesh gleamed in the low lamplight as he fed his fat tool to her, hump after hump.
“Look at me while I fuck your face, Angel,” he breathed, and Rose locked her gaze with his as he guided her head back and forth, moving his cock in and out with liquid smoothness, his fingers laced through her locks. She could feel him nearing the edge, hear his breath growing more rapid and ragged and briefly, she wondered if he would blow his load, right here and it would all be over.
Then, abruptly, Skriker jerked his dick out of her mouth, pulling a long string of thick saliva with it, releasing her hair simultaneously.
Rose gasped and gulped for air, her breath shuddering thunderously.
“Nope,” he panted. “Not there yet. We’ve got a lot more to do. Go lie down, Rose. On your back with your legs spread…there’s a good slut.”
Once again, she obeyed, her heart pounding with anticipation as she turned and crawled to the head of the bed; Skriker gave her a punctuating smack across the ass as she moved away, making her flinch. As she turned over and lay back against his pillows, she saw him shed his jeans and boxers and stroll across the room naked, his big erect dick bobbing in front of him. He crouched and opened a lower drawer, pulling out two lengths of red silk rope, a long black velvet scarf, a black leather flogger, and what appeared to be a strange chain-and-clamp contraption—nipple clamps.
Her anticipation was at an all-time high when he came back and crawled across the bed to her, dumping his erotic arsenal on the bedspread. Rose whimpered; her genitals were on luscious fire, throbbing wet and eager for pampering, just what he was always ready to give her. But he was taking his time, dammit…then again, this is what she had asked for.
He would make her beg, as she had never begged before. She snaked her hand down and rubbed at her throbbing clit, and suddenly Skriker grabbed the flogger and lashed the long black leather fronds across her breasts, leaving dark red marks athwart her tender flesh. Rose bucked upward, squealing in excited pain.
“Did I tell you that you could touch yourself, whore?” he hissed as he seized her wrist and bent it painfully back. As a Nephil, her strength was superhuman, and she could easily have torn away from him, done damage to him. But this brutal loving was everything she had been dreaming of when she had proposed this to him, and the thrill was enough to make her crazy. She wanted him to brutalize her; wanted this half-demon to ravage her in every way possible.
“You lie still and be a good Angel bitch,” he commanded. He seized both her arms and tied each wrist to the bars of his headboard, lashing them securely with the silk rope.
She twisted beneath him, enjoying the sensual rough housing. “Please,” she whimpered.
He backhanded her, hard enough to make her head rock. “No,” he growled. “Shut up, Rose. You’ll wait for it, or you won’t get it at all.”
Out came the nipple clamps, and trepidation flooded her heart and belly. Skriker held the chain and hitch up, winking at her as he rattled the pretty, silver toy over her sweat-slicked torso. “Do you want to please your Demon Master?”
Rose found herself nodding wildly. “Yes.”
“Yes what, Angel?”
“Yes…Sir.” Her nipples were already hard as bullets and the rubber-coated clasps slipped easily over them, coming to bite her just below the base of each turgid throbbing tip. Rose squealed shrilly at the sweet pinching agony.
Skriker took the silver hitch and pushed it against her lips; she opened her mouth and gripped it in her teeth at his command. He grabbed her hair, jerking her head back, and the chain pulled on the clamps, lifting her breasts lusciously high. Tears welled in her eyes at the sweet agony, black streaks of mascara painted her cheeks as her nipples were stretched to the point where she thought they would snap from her body.
“Good girl,” Skriker hissed. “You stay like that. “He began to slap her breasts again, each smack causing the full heavy globes to jiggle and her nipples to be deliciously tweaked. Rose shrieked through gritted teeth; each sensation her lover inflicted sent jolts of electric pleasure plummeting down to her clit and dripping cunt, and she humped the empty air, her hips thrusting upward.
She stared at him with tear-filled ocean-and-earth eyes.
He shook his head, grinning. “Nope. I’ll work your pussy over when I’m damned good and ready, so quit your begging. You’re an embarrassment to your kind. You Nephilim are supposed to be tough. “He slapped her tits a few more times, rocking them, berating her playfully as he did it, his dick a massive pulsating exclamation point rising from its thick patch of pale blond pubic hair.
“Bad Angel,” he hissed, and his eyes suddenly blazed with hot hellfire; Rose knew he was doing it on purpose, egging her instincts on, and making her hotter and more desperate for the sin of him. “You know you are a traitor, loving that demon cock. You deserve this torment, deserve this pain…”He pushed his penis between her spread thighs and rubbed its thick length against her fluid-slick breach and clit, forcing whimpering moans and more strained pleading for him to please, please let her come.
Skriker responded by snatching the hitch from between her teeth and brutally tearing the nipple clamps away; Rose screamed, thrashing, the rush of blood and stinging agony so excruciatingly sweet that she was sure that it would drive her mad.
Skriker lowered himself onto her, his cock resting against her flat sweat-slicked belly, and began to croon to her, stroking her cheeks and damp hair. “There now, Angel,” he purred as he bent and began to kiss, lick, and gently suck those tormented nipples, soothing them sweetly with his warm soft mouth and caressing tongue.
Rose moaned, her heart pounding, her torso writhing gently beneath him like the sea.
“Sweet little Nephil nips,” he purred, tenderly sucking and licking one strawberry-pink bud as he gently caressed and toyed with the other. “Like candy against my tongue. Mmm…damn, you taste so good, Rosie.”
She was panting when he rose up and mounted her, his fingers hooking into the floss-thin straps of her thong and tearing the gauzy garment away, tossing it over the side of the bed. He slid his right hand between her thighs and stroked her velvety labia, his green eyes shimmering as he gazed down at her. “Heaven says that you should be ashamed when I touch you,” he murmured, a bit wistfully. “Are you ashamed, baby?”
Rose shook her head abruptly, and that was when another whip-crack slap came across her face, making her scarred cheek sting brutally. Skriker gripped her face in his big hand, pinching hard as he bent near her, slicking his tongue across her reddened, makeup-smeared cheek.
“Wrong answer. You are ashamed and you love it. Now, I’m gonna fuck your pussy, and you are not going to come. Is that clear?”
Rose was sobbing now, her breasts hitching, utterly overwhelmed by the incredible emotions raging through her. He would continue to deny her what he could usually make her do in a split second—orgasm. She couldn’t bear it, couldn’t take the merciless pleasure he would pump through her without feeling that delirious release.
Skriker’s hunger to possess her fully, to dominate a being who held such terror and rage for one of his father’s kind, would fully be realized when he could force her to hold back on that aching climax. It was the obscenity of the act that they both so wildly relished, of a demon taking an angel, sexually commanding and controlling the powerful offspring of a celestial warrior, a creature that would have looked down upon Skriker’s own sire as nothing
but shit.
This submission was the greatest gift she could have ever given him, save for accepting his hand in marriage, and that was something she still, to this day, refused.
Skriker tore the beaded mask off her, tossing it aside. He snatched up the luxurious black scarf and blindfolded her with it, binding her eyes and part of her hair in rippling velvet, leaving her blind and vulnerable to the heightened sensations his hands, mouth and pulsing dick would offer her. He spread her legs wider, his hands gripping her thighs firmly, and the lips of her pussy parted fluidly as he stretched her open.
Skriker’s cock penetrated her, and she jerked upward, wailing as he began to pump into her, his thrusts rapid and brutally hard from the get go. The head of his cock struck the back of her vagina and she shrieked in a glorious culmination of hot pain and rosy pleasure. She could hear him panting and groaning, feel his thick drill spreading her slit outrageously wide. She wanted to come, wanted it so badly. She was terrified that the pure physiological urge would simply overpower her and she would be let loose like a rocket.
If she did, he would know, would feel the spasms of her nether mouth around his joystick, and that would ruin the game for both of them. No, she would hang tight, would trust that he had so much more planned…
“Take it, Angel—take that rod. Nice, good girl. Good little fuck toy…oh, yeahhh...” He was moaning hoarsely, the husky baritone of his smoker’s voice sending ripples of exhilaration pulsing through her body, and her lips parted to murmur something. There was a brief gust of air near her face and he slapped her again, his fingers cracking across her mouth, and she tasted blood, hot and coppery.
“Begging again,” she heard him grumble, and suddenly she felt his dick leave her brutalized pussy, felt the almost depressing emptiness that came of him no longer being one with her flesh, like barren trees beneath a hard grey sky. There was a rustling of the bedclothes, and his weight shifted from between her thighs and moved toward the head of the bed.
Seconds later, she felt the hard smooth head of his cock press against her lips, sticky with her own fervent juices. “Suck your pussy, Angel,” his voice breathed from just above her head, and Rose opened her mouth obediently, taking his slick cock into her throat for the second time. She sucked away, relishing the salty sweetness of her own juices.
Slave To The Demon Page 3