Seven Deadly Sinners: A Reverse Harem Romance

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Seven Deadly Sinners: A Reverse Harem Romance Page 61

by Dark Angel


  God, I hate this! I hate being trapped in desire like this and somehow it is so hot at the same time that I'm buried in the taste of delicious agony.

  Why must my entire life be turned into a maze of me trying to figure out what I feel, what I need, what right and wrong is?

  Everything is so complicated and one single orgasm might've made that feel better.

  Oh, who am I kidding? That would be just another part of exactly what I’m complaining about. But at least I would get to come.

  "Why won't you let us come?" I pant out, begging for some kind of answer since he said I could be vocal.

  "Us?" Damien laughs. “You’re not getting either of us off that easy. Keep being that good girl I know you like to be. I’m not nearly done playing with you, and I know that you like it. You’ll like everything I’m about to do to you,” Damien says with a crazed look in his eyes. I don’t know if that should excite me more, but it does.

  It should be terrifying. I know this. But I’m exhilarated.

  Damien tears down the flimsy fabric of my dress and his teeth savage my breasts. This isn't gentle or sweet like a boyfriend might do. Damien is not my boyfriend. He's my captor. I am his prey...and he hurts me...but it feels so good I feel my pussy clenching with need.

  "Stop," Damien growls against my skin.

  He fucking knows.

  I whimper with need.

  His mouth closes over my breast, capturing my nipple and licking it, then sucking my breast in fully. Then he brings his teeth back to graze my nipple. I groan. How can this be punishment? It feels so good. I let my head fall back. I feel how close my orgasm is.

  Damien moves onto the other breast and I'm shaking, trying not to grind on him. I could come now, if I was allowed to. I'm panting trying to hold them back.

  Damien stands, holding me against him. Stretching his arm out across the table, he knocks everything to the floor and lies me down against the now cleared table.

  He drops to his knees in front of me.

  My thighs are so wet, streaks of my arousal sticky down my thighs.

  Damien runs his tongue up and down both of them, licking up all of my arousal slowly with his massive tongue.

  My legs are shaking. I need to come. The pressure from the building orgasm is making my head hurt, it's so strong, and I'm out of my mind now. I'm nothing but my body's mindless need to come.

  "Please, Damien, please, please," I cry out when he looks at me. The blazing lust in his eyes make me greedily beg. I don't care anymore about what happens to me. I only care that I orgasm.

  "I'm going to lick your beautiful virgin pussy until you cry and you will not come," Damien says. He flashes me a wicked grin. "You're allowed to beg all you want."

  Oh God, I'm going to beg. It may not change anything, but the need building within me is energy that has to be expended.

  "Please, I'll do anything," I whimper.

  For a moment something flashes in his eyes. Have I said the magic words? I need this; I need this so goddamn much, I hope for that.

  “Please, please, please!” I moan out my begging as fast and as earnest as I can. I need this so damn much.

  But danger emanates from his being and that moment of whatever flashed through his eyes is replaced with darkness. A delicious darkness that I want to explore, but I know that doesn’t come with me, well, coming. I may not get what I want in this moment, but oh God I need to know where that face and that darkness leads.

  Damien is dragging me down to hell, and I want to burn to embers in those flames. I need to feel every moment of whatever torture he has to offer.

  He smiles at me, something wicked and telling…but telling what exactly I don’t know.

  He lowers his face to my pussy, and he brings a hand to my throat. Squeezing just enough to get me high from his touch, I grind my pussy all over his face. My legs dangling off the table pull him in closer. I ride his face, rolling my hips and diving into him and up to get the delicious feel of his tongue on and around my clit. Damien licks my pussy so good that I want to cry. Cry from the pleasure. Cry from the need to come and being so close but not yet there.

  And I cry. I have to. If I’m not releasing the tension, I have to release the agony. I'm doing my best to not come, and he's licking my pussy so good I want nothing more than for him to keep it up and to let me come. I'm a breath away from just letting myself come. This is wicked and cruel. But I need him. I need him so damn bad and I fear now that if I disobey him by coming that I'm going to lose any chance at him touching me. I know enough now to know that if he were to spank me now, I would come, despite how strange that is to me.

  So I cannot risk that he’ll stop touching me, stop licking my pussy, or that he’ll spank me if I come.

  “I can’t!” I yelp out. “I”m going to come if you keep licking my pussy, it's too good,” I moan out.

  At that exact moment, Damien flattens out his tongue and tickles it against my clit.

  I scream. I scream like I’m dying. He pulls me down on his face and eats my pussy with a ferocity that makes me legs shake hard around him, as if I might be having a seizure. His hands capture me and dig into my skin and he is wringing every drop of pleasure out of me.

  Gasping, I try to hold back. I try so damn hard. I want to come, but I don’t want to end this. I don’t want to disobey him.

  “Damien! Please don’t…I will…if you…” I try to protest. Every breath I take runs me through a cycle of intense pleasure heightening more and more and I am crying out to keep myself from going over the edge. I can’t. I won’t. “I want to be good!” I cry out pleadingly, and I realize that he’s running his tongue teasingly over me now, inhaling me and making me that much closer to the feather’s breath away from the edge.

  Pulling down to sit on his chest, Damien relents for only a moment. “You are being so good. I’m going to let you come,” he says with a smile.

  I’m elated, grinning wide and stupid like I’ve never heard anything better in my life. Oh thank heavens I'm going to get some relief!

  My pussy is slick, and I see how much of my arousal is all over his face. I’m ready to explode, and then he’ll have my cum drenching him. Oh God. Is he going to fuck me now?

  A few seconds pass and I wonder, why is he just watching me?

  “You said I could come!” I say, whimpering.

  “Now, you were being so good, Sarah,” Damien laughs. “I didn’t say I would let you come today,” he says and gives me the most volatile smile I’ve ever seen in my life.

  I want to cry out, scream, beat my fists against his chest, climb back onto his face and ride him until I come. Maybe I should slide down and ram his cock into me and come that way. Taking my virginity and my orgasm like I desperately need to.

  But I don’t. I say nothing. I try to breathe and keep myself from exploding from the sheer amount of desire flooding through my body. I do nothing.

  “So impressive, Sarah. You’re learning very well. I will let you come tonight, but you’re going to have to promise that you’re going to come in the future only when I allow you to. You showed incredible strength holding off now. You’ll need to that from now on. In fact, going forward, you’ll also need to cum when I say so. Would you like to try that part out now?”

  I nod vigorously, that’s exactly what I want.

  Damien slaps my cheek, hard enough to make me yelp. “I want you to answer me when I ask you a question. Don’t make me rescind my kindness.”

  “Yes, yes, Damien,” I say quickly. “Please…and thank you,” I say with every bit of politeness I can muster. Emily Post doesn’t exactly cover this, though I get the feeling that she should add a chapter.

  A thrill runs through me.

  I didn’t know what I was missing all this time, being a virgin.

  Of course, Damien said I could come, not that he would fuck me. But regardless every experience with him is so intense that it almost feels like the rest of my life isn’t in color. I shouldn’t think abou
t it this way. Shouldn’t think about him so kindly. But I can’t help it when I’m about to explode because I’m so close to having an incredible orgasm.

  Damien pulls me off of him and lies me down on the table. He stands in front of me and licks his fingers, then presses them into me. His face goes down to my clit. He furiously pumps and licks and strokes and tears everything out of me but he hasn’t actually said I could come, and even though I'm close, I don't.

  “Now, come for me now,” Damien moans against my pussy.

  Oh God, yes, I'm going to come so hard now. I slam my eyes shut, squeezing my eyelids shut and clamping my pussy around his fingers. I fist my hands into his hair and hold him close to me.

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I whimper as I breathe in and out and the sensation courses through me. There’s a fire in my veins that’s tearing through my whole body. Molten arousal heats to my core and my cum is blasting out of me in large, creamy gushes, and Damien is licking them up. The wet sound of his tongue and fingers working my desperate pussy are the wettest sounds I’ve ever heard in my life. He could be splashing in a pool down there; I’m so wet. My legs are shaking furiously, flailing about as if I have no control over them. I really don’t because my body is just an extension of my pussy right now. Damien lifts a hand up and squeezes one of my nipples and I scream. A jolt of lightening from my pussy to my nipple tears through my body.

  How can he do this? It's as if my body was only in my custody before, and poorly. I mean, I’ve never made myself feel this way. I could never even come before. Until I masturbated thinking about Damien. That means…fuck. I mean, Damien owns my body. He knows it better than I do. He presses buttons I didn’t know I had, releases me in a way I didn’t know I was wound. I'm putty in his hands, and I’m right now literally melting around him.

  I’m frightened when I start to come down from my orgasmic high. I can’t feel this way about Damien, I just can’t. I can’t let him own me. He can’t control me with lust.

  I’ll be good for him as he terms it. I have to, in order to stay safe. I’ll get away, though, and I’ll forget that Damien ever did these things to my body. I’ll try to forget how they feel. I'll try to forget how he was so comfortable owning every inch of me, and how I wanted him to. I shudder. I can’t think about that. I need to erase all of this from my mind. I have to go to another place when he touches me. A place where that is okay and when I'm free, it isn’t okay and that’s fine because I'm not that person anymore.

  I don’t feel confident after I come. I want to hide my body now and the possessive way he touches me, even though he’s pulling his fingers out of my soaked pussy, I just feel so strange. How could I let this man touch me like this? How could I want it?

  He spanked me! He didn’t even fuck me and he made me come so hard that I think my head hurts from all the pressure relieved. I’m parched like a desert in my mouth, and my pussy and thighs are soaking wet like I’ve been drenched by a hose. My abdomen is sore from just how hard I came and pushed when I came. My legs are limp water balloons. I can’t let myself be rung out to dry like this at the hands of some insane rich man.

  I may not have school anymore—I’m so far behind that I might not be able to catch up; I can’t explain why I’ve been absent. I may not have my parents—I will never step foot in their house again and they are not anything to me. I may not have anything in mind, and the only thing I do want is Damien, but I cannot let this own me. I'm the keeper of my soul, and I can’t let it slide down my pussy and into Damien’s mouth. He’ll swallow me whole if I let him, and I just can’t allow that.

  “I want to take a shower,” I tell him. I wonder if I'm allowed to say that. If he’ll want to accompany me. If he’ll deny me for some reason.

  “Of course,” Damien says. He acts like this is the most natural thing in the world. It fucking isn’t.

  I scamper out of the room and into my room to wash everything off of me. I can’t wash Damien off of me anymore than I can escape him.

  Damien isn’t just touching me and erasing my past, he’s marking my future. I know now, beneath the pelting hot water that I try to get release from, that I am always going to remember what Damien has done to my body. So what? That pleasure is nothing compared to what he has done to my mind. He has become something I want. Yet, not in the throes of an orgasm or under his current control in this second, I am afraid. I feel feeble. It's like all the begging I did to come, asking if he was going to keep me, telling him that I want to be good…it's like the words I know that I said must've come from someone else’s mouth because no way could I have been the one who said them. I wash my hair, wash my body, and feel the control of my body returning to me. I’m not oversensitive anymore, and I’m starting to feel downright exhausted. I'm going to close my eyes, but then I'll be trapped in dreams of Damien. I know I can’t erase him from my mind. I have to separate this part of me later. I have to find the confidence to be this good girl and his…and then escape and peel off that person as my past…like a skin coming off a snake.

  I feel like a snake. Like I'm betraying myself.

  Because I have never felt like I belonged more than when Damien told me I was being good. I can’t let that be my strength. Damien can’t tear me down and make me feel like he’s building me up…can he?

  Sarah

  In the safety of my bedroom, I found a brazen lust within me. A confidence and a desire that surpassed my fear, nerves, or even good sense.

  Now I’ve left the room that Damien has set up as mine. I’m standing in front of a table in his foyer as he summons me. I’m shaken completely by this summoning. I have lost all the fire in me that made me push to get to come. I don’t know where I stand right now.

  But now, I'm in Damien's crosshairs with none of that confidence. None of the brazen lust could save me. I have whimpering, fearful arousal from my traitorous body and it's a torture that felt so frightening and so good at the same time that I felt I was just one second away from crying. I’m not sad. Sure, I do have things that I could be sad about. But of all the emotions that are swirling within me, sadness isn’t one. I'm a rainbow of lust, angst, fear, and anticipation.

  Damien's eyes take me in now. Dark and lust-filled, they are like the key and the lock to this maze swirling inside me. Those eyes hold the secrets to my deepest desires, and they lock me away in how he fulfills them without even taking my virginity.

  I don't know why Damien doesn’t fuck me. The little voice in my soul tells me that it has nothing to do with the fact that I'm a virgin. If anything, my virginity should mean that he wants to fuck me more, right? Guys like that first-one-to-go-there thing, right?

  There is nothing about Damien that is like other guys. I could never presume to know what he’s going to do much less compare it to my already meager knowledge of men.

  I remember the tickets, now. What if he is merely sampling the wares without ruining the merchandise? That file can’t just be for Damien…he has me and knows all those things. They seem like a deed. I guess it could be just for Damien, but I can’t shake the feeling that they mean something else. That the tickets are intended to be used for offering me up to someone else. It is foolish, it is shameful, but the idea of someone else taking my virginity, if it is to be taken, is horrible to me. I want him to want to have me for himself. If nothing else, after all the sexual agony and ecstasy that Damien has put me through, it honestly just seems wrong to imagine anyone else taking my ‘v-card.’ God that seems damn foolish to think of that way.

  I have to stop using boyfriend, normal-type things about Damien in my mind. That’s just so not the case. I mean, who has a boyfriend that tells them if they can orgasm or not? Who owns them? Fuck, everything about this is so twisted because I have this sinking feeling that I’m somehow ruined for normal. That Damien has given me a taste of something so very different…and maybe I’ll never be able to have anything different. That even if I escape that I’m still forever warped.

  I shouldn't
want anyone to touch me. The truth is that Damien has awakened a darkness in me. I want to say that he has polluted me with his own darkness, tainted me with his desires and his mind games, but when I ran up those stairs and made myself come just thinking about him touching me, that is all me. That is all my own darkness. Has this always existed inside me? Does Damien unlock a secret part of me…and will he abandon me before more comes to pass? I want to act on all the filthy desires I don’t quite know how to name.

  Sure, a few glances, a grasp, a promise that I couldn't understand from Damien were all dark inspiration. But there is absolutely something deep within me, and I now plumb those depths because I met Damien. But I know that darkness is within me and isn’t new. The parts inside me that know better, that could resist, are drowned out in waves of the tantalizing pleasure of Damien's hands on me; my resistance is drowned out in imagining Damien’s touch.

  I’m contemplating my very existence over here, as if I don’t remember that Damien has summoned me and he has shown me that he can keep me out of my head. The pleasure he can bring me, and the respite from the tangled web inside my mind? I’m actually grateful for it.

  "Undress. I want to see your body, Sarah," Damien says through gritted teeth. I don’t think he is angry with me, but I know a rage has bubbled close to the surface for him. I can hear it in his voice; I can see it in the way he moves. His being seems shaken with a hostility that isn’t aimed at me. It couldn’t be because of me, right? I’ve done everything I can to be obedient.

  I tremble, my fingers barely moving.

  Damien's hand reaches out and captures my hand that has just gripped a button on my blouse. His eyes dare mine to resist, but I'm frozen. Dropping my hand, his hand reaches for my buttons now. Grasping between the opening between one button and another's gap, he tears down my blouse. My breasts bounce out, my bra getting torn in the process. His strength consumes me, the fear within me transformed into longing. If he is taking from me what I want to give him, the whole responsibility and blame for this could be on him. Not on me. I want to surrender, but I won’t. The part of me that is giving way to him right now, I tell myself that’s the other part of me that I’m separating into for my safety. Should Damien ravage me, I can color outside of the lines of reason and morality. I can simply give in to desire. Match his passion with my own.

 

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