Page 90 of My Dark Divine
That’s strange. Why would he need to say goodbye? We were supposed to go back to my place together.
I try to move my legs, but something holds me in place. As I pry my eyes open, I glance down at him, then shift my gaze to my ankles. I’m spread open before his face, while each ankle is tied to the edges of the bed with rope.
A strange heat swirls in my belly at the sight, and I attempt to squeeze my legs, already knowing it will be futile. A soft, breathy sound rises in my chest as my body tenses with desire, only to be met with the realization that it’s not possible. We’ve never done anything like this before, and it probably should scare me—how he takes from me without asking first. But here’s the thing between me and West—we don’t need words to understand our needs. He knows I enjoy this.
Because I trust him. It sounds odd and ridiculous, but it’s the truth. The memory of our fights still stings, each harsh word a jagged shard in my heart. Yet beneath the scars, the comfort lingers—a quiet understanding that we’ve both tasted the bitterness of our cruelty. From these crumbles, trust has grown—a shared sense of vulnerability that binds us together.
“I’m not mad,” I finally say, a stupid smile breaking across my face. His tongue tickles me pleasantly as he alternates between sliding inside and just caressing my folds. “Not at all.”
“Mmm.” He pulls back from my pussy, his lips glistening with my essence. I bite the corner of my mouth, desire growing within me at the sight. “How does this feel, baby girl?” he asks, his hands gliding over my thighs before traveling to my boundankles. I whimper, every part of me feeling incredibly sensitive as I try to clench my legs together again. “You’re so desperate to come, aren’t you?”
Heat floods my cheeks, and I throw my head back, the world swirling in a dizzying blur. “Yeah,” I choke out, the vibrations spreading in sharp jolts across my legs. “I want to?—”
He rises and leans in, his face drawing closer to mine. Our lips are barely apart—a gentle push, and we’ll kiss. “And if I tell you to touch yourself,” he murmurs against my mouth, his warm breath tickling my skin, “what are you going to do but obey, huh?”
“West—”
“Do it,” he cuts in, his voice rough. The command sends a pleasurable tingle up my spine, causing my lips to part in delight. “Show me how much you want to come.”
A shiver runs through me, not from the cold, but from the amplified sensations flooding my body. Every touch is a spark, every whisper a caress. It’s a strange blend of pleasure and discomfort. He’s not pushing, not forcing, just giving, and it feels almost tender, almost loving. But the reality of my bound ankles pulls me back to the raw truth of it.
It feels…perfect. A perfect balance of pleasure and pain that he keeps showing me.
The heat in my belly intensifies, a slow burn that escalates with every move. My breath becomes a series of sharp gasps, my heart thundering against my ribs. His eyes hold me captive, a silent command to keep going, and I obey, pushing myself toward the edge, toward the inevitable release that threatens to consume me as I circle my clit.
“Gorgeous girl,” he taunts, licking his lips. His eyes burn into me, hot and intense. I feel like I’m under a microscope, every flaw and imperfection magnified. Yet, in the heat of his gaze, I also feel a strange sense of liberation—a feeling of beingtruly seen and appreciated. He’s the only one who looks at me like this, like I’m something rare, beautiful, andhis. “And so desperate. It would be a shame if you stopped, wouldn’t it?” He brushes his knuckles across my rosy cheek. “Sostop.”
I’m teetering on the edge of oblivion, and just as a scream builds in my throat, he forcefully shoves my hand away, robbing me of my orgasm. Pain radiates through me in a powerful wave as I cry out, my legs instinctively trying to clench together. The knots around my ankles tighten, amplifying the agony. He laughs—a cruel, low sound that sends a quiver of unease down my spine, reminding me of his true nature: a jagged evil that feeds off the pain and suffering of others.
“West,” I call his name, fully aware that he won’t listen. I’m at his mercy now, and if he wants to toy with me, I’m powerless to stop him.
Grabbing my cheeks, he silences any words that might escape my mouth. “God, look at you.” He tilts my face from side to side, taking in every reaction he draws from me. “Are you going to beg me for what you need?”
If I weren’t so aroused, I’d tell him to go fuck himself. But at this moment? “Please, let me come,” I beg, the desperation in my voice prompting an amused roll of his eyes. “I’m begging you.”
His grip on my face loosens as he roughly shoves me aside and glances down at my pussy, seemingly weighing his next move. “You want me to help you?”
A flicker of discomfort from the way he sounds tries to pierce through the lust clouding my mind, but it dissolves into it. His tone carries an edge, like something’s off, but I can’t summon the energy to care, so I nod weakly. “Yeah?—”
“You want me to lick this pussy?” He places two fingers on my slit, dragging them up before slowly sliding back down, creating a slick, obscene sound. “You like it when I do that to you?”
“Yes, yes,God,” I whimper, his dirty words sending shudders of pleasure through me. I’ve never had anyone speak to me quite like West does. “Please, please?—”
My pleas are abruptly silenced when he finally presses his mouth to my pussy, lapping at it with such passion that my eyes roll back. A deep groan bursts from my chest, and my body begins to shake as euphoria gradually spreads into every corner of my mind.
I’ve never wanted to come so desperately in my entire life.
When he sinks his teeth into my clit and gives it a sharp nip, I finally break. Convulsions wrack my body, and my back arches as a surge of high-voltage electricity floods my veins. I scream so loudly I’m sure people on the street can hear just how good he makes me feel. The bliss seems endless as aftershocks throb against my skull while I slowly come down.
“That was good,” he says, and somehow, I muster the strength to look at him. He’s a complete mess as he licks the remnants of my juices from his lips, igniting a fresh wave of desire within me. “You know why?”
My mind, clouded and slow, trips over his question. “W-why?” I stammer, my voice laced with confusion.
His gaze lingers on me for a moment before shifting back to my pussy. His touch is anything but gentle as he gathers my juices, his fingers pressing roughly against my skin and smearing them along my inner thighs, uncaring of my lingering sensitivity.
A smile slowly spreads across his face as he shakes his head. “Because this pussy is the best part of you, baby,” he says, nodding at the mess he’s drawn across my skin. “The one that makes youbearable.”
A fiery rush of heat crashes over me at his words. I don’t need to think long before the memory of my conversation with Grace invades my mind.
