I clenched my teeth, a petulant whimper squeaking out. I was damned, just as he’d said.
“Do you want to set up your camera first?” he said. “This would make for great clickbait, wouldn’t it? Fucked By A Demon In A Cemetery?” He chuckled to himself. “I’d watch that.”
“You’re an asshole,” I whispered.
“You are what you eat.”
“Fucking hell,” I gasped, my hands clinging for the headstone behind me as if that would somehow keep me grounded. I hadn’t felt this unbearably, irrationally horny since I’d taken Ecstasy at my eighteenth birthday party. I lowered my voice, as if the dead themselves could hear me and clutch their pearls at what I was going to do. “Fuck me. Please.”
He shook his head and brought his face down closer, motioning to his ear. “Can’t hear you. A little louder please. Fuck you where?”
“Goddamn it, Leon —”
“I just ripped a living thing to shreds, doll. I’m in a very sadistic mood and will gladly let you stand there and stumble through humiliating yourself all night. Or, you can just say what you really want, and I’ll bend you over this headstone, eat your little cunt until you drip down your thighs, and fuck you until you forget your own name. What’ll it be?”
I gulped. I’d never been very religious, but it only felt right to cross myself before I dared to say, “Bend me over and...and fuck me...fuck my cunt...please —”
He grasped at my sweater and tore it, sending the buttons flying into the grass. He gripped my waist, claws digging into my skin as my mouth opened for him and his forked tongue caressed over mine. His taste was the sweetest poison, tingling in my mouth as I groaned into him with abandon. My noise only encouraged him, the feral growl he gave in response deepening as he wrapped a clawed hand around my throat and squeezed — squeezed until I whimpered and it came out as little more than a pitiful squeak.
He grinned at me, all wicked teeth and a wolf’s hunger. “Aw, sweet little mortal. So fucking breakable.” He squeezed tighter, gripping the sides of my throat until my head swam and euphoria washed over me, and his claws dug into my skin with the sweetest sting. It was the kind of pain that gave me goosebumps, that had me shivering for more. He nipped at my pouting lower lip, chuckling as he hovered close and whispered into my mouth, “Say please if you want to breathe.”
“Please...please —”
He released my throat, only to lift me and sit my butt on the headstone. He pushed my legs apart with his hips, the stone cold through my skirt. He breathed against the hollow between my collar bones, and trailed his tongue along them until he reached my neck and bit. His fingers tangled in my hair so he could pull my head back and bite me again, lingering where my veins pulsed so dangerously close to the surface. He was going to leave marks all over me.
I’d given into my lust for a demon — I wanted his body so badly it terrified me. My hands clawed up his back, digging in eagerly between his shoulder blades as he snarled in enthusiasm. He released my hair and dropped to his knees, his hands moving to possessively grip my hips.
Those bright golden eyes staring up at me from between my legs made my breath stop. He bit at the thin fabric of my leggings, catching it in his teeth and leaving a small tear. When he looked up at me again, there was a wildness in his eyes, a hunger that made adrenaline pump through me as if my body was trying to tell me to run.
“All this clothing in my fucking way,” he growled, and he ripped a hole in the leggings with his claws, leaving my thigh almost entirely bare. Then he did the same to the other side and kept going — ripping, tearing at them as if their presence was a personal insult. I clung to the headstone to hold myself up, my legs beginning to shake. When nothing was left of my leggings but torn rags, he lowered his head and ran his forked tongue up my thigh until my entire body quivered.
“So sensitive,” he murmured. He lingered at the highest point on my thigh, nipping my skin. “The way you shiver, fuck, I love to see you shake.” His hands traced up the outside of my thighs, under my skirt, where he found the lacey edges of my panties through what little remained of my leggings.
Those panties were his next victim. He ripped the fabric and tossed them aside, but not before he pressed them to his nose and inhaled deeply. His pupils swelled, and he looked at me like he was starving. His black claws pricked into my sensitive skin, leaving behind beads of blood. He licked up each little red droplet, and grinned as my mouth gaped open in shock.
“You think I won’t consume every last bit of you?” he said, his voice so deep and dark that it seemed to slither up my spine and wrap around the back of my skull. “I’ll fucking eat you alive, Raelynn.” His claws dug in, and this time I couldn’t hold back a cry of pain. He held me there, his eyes alight as he watched a thin trickle of blood well from my skin and streak down my thigh — only to be caught by his tongue.
“I won’t be satisfied with merely your blood, Raelynn.” I was shaking on my perch as his mouth came nearer. His eyes lingered between my legs, bright and inhumanely golden. “Your blood, piss, sweat, cum – I want it all. Mine. Abandon your inhibitions now. You won’t have a use for them anymore.”
His tongue snaked out, its forked sides flicking the air. I’d seen a split tongue as a body modification, but his was strikingly long. It was monstrous. It filled me with such mixed feels of excitement and fear that when I first tried to open my mouth, all I managed to get out was a gasp.
“I want to feel it,” I whispered. “Please…”
He stood, and lifted me easily from the headstone. My head swam as he turned me with my back to his chest and my head dangling toward the ground, completely upside-down in his arms. My glasses slipped off my nose and into the grass. The world became a blur, but I couldn’t keep my eyes open long anyway.
My pussy was right beneath his face, exposed, my skirt useless to cover me in this position. I panted desperately — embarrassed, eager, completely discombobulated. Then — oh fuck — his tongue slid over me, between every fold, lapping up my arousal and, God, swirling over my clit. I shuddered, jerking involuntarily, and his grip tightened on me. His claws were digging into my sides where he held me, but the pain only made it better. He took my labia in his mouth, sucking as if it were a meal, then he went in with his tongue again, moving it with focused precision over every inch of sensitive flesh.
My head felt heavy from the angle, but the rush of blood to my skull only served to heighten my dizzyingly growing pleasure. It was overwhelming, almost unbearable. I was moaning with every merciless touch of his mouth as my legs wrapped around his neck.
“You taste so good.” The hunger in his voice made me shake, reigniting some instinctual urge to flee, to struggle despite how good it felt. I squirmed in his grasp, trying vainly to escape his mouth. He laughed at me, and switched effortlessly to hold me up with only one arm around my waist, so he could move the other between my legs and massage my clit with his fingers.
“No escape, doll. You know what your safe word is.” Then his mouth went to work again. Soon enough, voluntary movement was impossible. His fingers worked my clit and his tongue — unnaturally thick, unnaturally long — pushed inside me. I gasped, wiggling as he caressed inside me, a stimulation I had not thought possible.
“Leon…Leon, please…” My words were choked with panting, and he rubbed me faster. I moaned, and he withdrew his tongue only to plunge it in again. My entire body began to tense, then trembled.
“I’m going to make you come, Rae,” he growled. “And I want you to keep begging as I do.”
My orgasm was imminent, rushing toward me at an unstoppable speed. I clapped my hands over my mouth, muffling my cries of “please, please, please,” as my pleasure became torture under his sadistic tongue.
My clit throbbed under his fingers, and his tongue went so deep that my spasming pussy tightened around him. My toes curled in my boots, my cries choked up in my throat and all I could do was try to breath and somehow keep my soul from leaving my body.
/>
“What a good girl.” He lowered me, and I lay dizzied on the grass, my eyes unfocused. In a blur I saw him pick something up, and he leaned forward to tuck my glasses back onto my face. He wiped drips of my cum from his chin and licked his fingers clean.
Then he stood over me, unbuttoning his jeans and sliding down his zipper. He took down his black briefs, and fuck – if there could have been any remaining doubt in my mind that he wasn’t human, the sight of his hard cock dispersed all doubts. His thick head had two additional ridges behind it, and a swell on the underside, making his girth terrifying. He gripped it in his hand, spat on the shaft and stroked as he bared his teeth at me.
With a dark chuckle, he whispered, “Try to run.”
I loved a struggle. He was unleashing my darkest desires one by one. I felt slow and drugged with pleasure, but I still tried to scramble up, as if I could actually get away. I crawled no more than a few inches before he seized me and pinned me.
“Pathetic.” His teeth nipped at my ear as he whispered. He pressed my head against the cool grass, his palm hot on my cheek, and with his other hand jerked up my hips so my ass was raised, ready for him.
“Do you want it, Raelynn?” His voice was a caress, as dark and dangerous as the touch of a snake’s scales. His cock moved over me, slick with my arousal. “Do you want me to wreck your little cunt?”
“Yes,” my answer was a groan, tight with anticipation and shaking. “Yes, please —”
His ridged head pressed against my entrance, then inside, every inch stretching me tightly around him. He hunched over me and dragged his claws up my back as he began to thrust. When he’d said he would wreck me, fuck, he’d meant it. The ache and stretch as he fucked into me would have had me struggling to maintain my position if he hadn’t been holding me in place.
Bent over, face against the grass, hips held in place by strong hands from which I knew there was no escape — I was absolutely dripping for it.
I’d never had a problem being vocal but, God, I sounded pathetic. Whimpering with every thrust, somewhere between words and animalistic cries. He’d fucked anything human out of me and left me just a shaking, needy toy for him to use.
“How does it feel, doll?” His fingers tangled in my hair, claws scratching along my scalp. “Use your voice, come on now. Or can you even speak at all anymore?”
“So good, fuck, hurts so good.” My tongue stumbled over those words. Language was just too hard. My mind was sinking fast into a space of hot, smothering darkness, but I was perfectly happy to suffocate there, happy to drown in ecstasy. I arched my back, leaning into him despite the ache. The feeling of his cock was unlike anything I’d ever experienced, ridged and swollen where no man’s could be, so that every thrust was shocking.
“This could be the fate of your soul.” He laughed sadistically. “All it takes is a simple bargain, and you’re mine. Mine to use and pleasure however I wish. Mine to mark, mine to hurt.” He pressed into me hard, so hard my moan was nearly a sob. Fuck, the pain made the pleasure so much sweeter. “It’s alright if you’re not ready to give up your soul yet, but you will, doll. You’ve already given in.”
He drove into me with long, steady strokes. I wanted nothing more than to have his cum inside me, filling me.
“Leon... give...give me…” I couldn’t get the words out. It felt too good. He pulled me up, so I was on all fours, grasped my face and squeezed my cheeks.
“What was that?” he growled. “Speak up, Rae, I can’t hear you.”
“I want...your cum…”
He squeezed tighter, forcing my mouth open. He slid two fingers inside, claws dangerously sharp across my tongue. My mouth was forced to stay open, salivating as he pressed down on my tongue. He’d made a mess of me in every way, and I could only cry out as his pace quickened and suddenly, I felt his cock throb inside me.
“Say it again,” he said, low over my back. His voice in my ear seemed to reverberate within my head and sing within my very blood. “Beg for it. Beg for what you want.”
I couldn’t form words with his fingers in my mouth, but that didn’t prevent me from trying. And that was when I realized — as I knelt there babbling uselessly, drool running down my chin, practically sobbing with the pleasure of it — he was absolutely right. I had already given in. I’d said I wouldn’t give him my soul, but I’d practically given it to him already.
I’d given myself up to a demon and there was no going back.
“Please...please...please,” was all I could manage. The more I begged, the more my pussy tightened and began to clench around his girth. My last orgasm had rocked me, but this one got its grip into me and wouldn’t let go. I sobbed from the force of it, and he hooked his fingers a little deeper into my mouth so that I couldn’t muffle my sounds. I was certain I was loud enough to wake the dead.
My pleasure brought him to his peak, and his already thick cock swelled even thicker. He bit down on my shoulder as he throbbed, spilling inside me. He took his fingers from my mouth and pulled my hips back, pressing deeply into me as he came, filling me until I could feel him dripping down my thighs.
The moment she’d looked at me with those wide, defiant brown eyes and told me to do it, I knew I was fucked for this woman. Foolishly, madly fucked. When she made herself my willing victim, I wanted to steal her away back to Hell right then and there.
I hadn’t planned to offer her a deal. Some demons loved nothing more than collecting human souls to raise their status in Hell, but I honestly couldn’t be bothered. I shouldn’t have bothered. But now I couldn’t get the idea out of my head: she was mine. I needed her soul. Fucking her, claiming her body, listening to those cute little whimpers as she shook with pleasure — that could become a quick addiction. The kind of thing I wanted guaranteed to me for eternity.
I’d offered a damn good bargain too. Considering the circumstances, my protection should have come at a far heavier price than just her soul.
What else was I supposed to do? Stick around, risk my life, and protect her out of sympathy? Out of kindness? I’d been trampled over by enough humans to know better. She’d pay up or I’d be gone. I’d take the grimoire and be on my way.
The taste of her lingered on my tongue, the sweet scent of her in my nose. I leaned back against a nearby headstone, holding her against me, my eyes half-lidded as I surveyed the dark, empty graveyard. Her orgasms had shattered her, but we couldn’t linger there for long. More Eld would come.
Rae sighed, and for a moment, I thought she was asleep. I’d left dark red marks across her neck and shoulder from my bites, marks that would be purple bruises by morning. I’d be gone, but my marks would linger on her for days.
Mine. My human, my doll, my tender flesh, mine.
Maybe I’d give her more time to think on my deal. Maybe a few more days on Earth wouldn’t kill me...or maybe it would, and I was getting disastrously obsessed over a human plaything.
She stirred, and suddenly stiffened. Slowly, as if she were trying not to startle a wild animal, she squirmed out from my arms and stood. She brushed the blades of grass from her skirt and plucked at the leaves and twigs in her hair, a little tremble in her hands. It occurred to me that she’d be cold without her leggings — the leggings I had completely destroyed.
“I’m escorting you home,” I said, not bothering to get up yet. The cold headstone felt good against my back. “You’ll give me the grimoire, and I’ll be gone.”
I waited for her protest, looking forward to more sassy defiance. But instead, with her back turned to me, she said, “Why were you in Abelaum? Before I summoned you?”
“I was in service to my previous summoner.”
“And that was?”
“Kent Hadleigh.”
She turned, her expression tight and desperate. “You mean to tell me that Kent Hadleigh is...a wizard?”
“Magician.” I shrugged. “Even the most non-gifted mortal can use the words written in the grimoire. But once they no longer have the book, it�
�s impossible to remember what was written in it. Attempts to copy the text will rapidly fade and become illegible. Once I destroy the grimoire, no one will be summoning me ever again.” I grinned proudly at the thought. My freedom had been a long time coming.
I rose, stretching my arms over my head. The night air was cool and the sky was clear, sparkling with stars and the faint glow of the sickle moon. The singing of the crickets and the sound of the breeze rattling the pine needles made me want to run through those woods one last time. I felt good for the first time in a long time.
Rae was watching me suspiciously, eyes narrowed. I could practically hear the gears turning in her head.
“Well?” I nodded my head toward the cemetery gate. “Would you like to lead the way home?”
She folded her arms. “Why did Kent summon you?”
I sighed heavily. So nosy, this one. Endless questions. “For the same reason his father and his grandfather summoned me. They needed protection from the Eld.”
She gulped. She shot a nervous glance over her shoulder, toward the chapel, where the body of the beast lay.
“How can something like that exist?” she said softly. “It seems like they’d be killing people all the time, that they’d be seen.”
“People go missing all the time in the woods.” I stood beside her, and she looked over. Her eyes drifted down my body, lingered over my chest, and very pointedly avoided looking between my legs, despite that I’d already buttoned up my jeans again. I grinned. “The Eld are attracted to magic. Unless a human is unlucky enough to come across one deep in the forest, it’s unlikely the average mortal would ever encounter one. Eld won’t bother to come hunting in human cities unless they have a good reason.”
“Then what’s their reason?” she said. “They’re coming after me because I have the grimoire, I get that.” She didn’t get that, but whatever. “But were they only coming after Kent because he had the grimoire before?”
“Start walking, and I’ll keep talking,” I said, giving her a nudge in the direction of the gate. “The sooner we get the grimoire out of your hands, the better.”
Her Soul to Take (Souls Trilogy) Page 12