Page 31 of The River of Fire
He groans and drops his head to the crook of my shoulder, mouthing at the flesh he likes so much. I’m braced for the pain of his entry, but he surprises me again, only pushing the plump head of his hardness into my channel. Lifting his mouth from my skin, he hisses long and loud as he starts to fuck me with just the tip of his cock.
“So warm,” he grits out, then pushes in a couple of inches more. I want to slide my fingers into his silky black hair, but he grabs my wrists immediately, holding them firmly captive on the table. “So fucking tight,” he growls, “choking my cock with your tight, wet cunt.”
His filthy words in my ear make me dizzy, like all the oxygen has left my brain as blood travels down between my legs, where his cock is moving, still only partway inside. Ashtaroth’s erotic smell of warm sugar and fresh cedarwood is all around me, making my mouth water.
I manage to lift my legs and wrap them around him, using my heels to press him down, wanting to feel him all the way inside, as far as he can go. Not denying me, he finally fills me until I feel his heavy testicles rest against my ass, below where we’re joined.
It hurts and this time I’m the one hissing, and it’s not in pleasure, because his girth, the stretch – it burns. Staying still inside me, he bites my shoulder like he did that day after the golem and it feels just the same, only better, because this time his weight is on top of me, his length inside me, just like in my dreams these last weeks. Stars burst behind my now-closed eyes, my mouth opens in a silent scream, and the shock of the pleasure and pain forces my muscles to unclench, and now he’s moving, slowly at first, then picking up speed.
His hands release my wrists and slide down my arms, thentear my top open. He takes my breasts into his calloused palms, pinching both nipples and making me gasp.
He licks the drops of blood his teeth brought to the surface of my skin, then I feel his lips on the shell of my ear again and he’s panting, the sound so incredibly hot that I could burst into flames.
“You are so… fucking… perfect,” he growls, punctuating his words with hard thrusts that have me yelping. “This perfect little hole was made for me,” he says then straightens, lifting one of my legs until my calf is resting on his shoulder, and he’s using my thigh as leverage to pump inside me with a speed that borders on supernatural. I can just see the root of his cock and it looks as thick as it feels.
There’s nothing left of the lazy smile, the arrogant twist of his lips, the mocking words. The creature fucking me now is uncontrolled, his eyes wild, his breath irregular. He presses down on my pubic bone with the heel of his free palm and my clit rubs against it every time he jars my body with his thrusts. And that’s often.
“I will fuck your hole raw,” he growls. “I will mark you with my seed from the inside out until every inch of you smells of it. I will breed you until your insides are so full of me that drops will slide down your legs in a stream everywhere you go, marking my territory for me. And then I will piss all over your hot cunt, because it is mine, you are mine!” He shouts the filthiest words I’ve ever heard.
I’m close to coming, so close, so desperate to, but also afraid of what I’ll feel, that I’ll explode into charred pieces of myself over this table because I have never been so turned on in my life. I’m fisting the tablecloth as my head whips side to side. Seeing the need and panicked desperation in my eyes, he moves his hand to take my clit between his thumb and forefinger and then he pinches, and it should hurt,it does, but it also feels so fucking good, focusing my pleasure.
At the same moment, a shout of satisfaction so raw that it borders on obscene sounds from behind him. I know Sariel filledArmaros with his come and the thought of the two gorgeous males finding pleasure together pushes me over the edge of the tallest cliff I’ve ever been on.
The inner muscles of my core clench so hard that Ashtaroth grunts and struggles to move. My back arches with the tension that seems like it will go on forever, and it will kill me, because I can’t breathe. My mouth opens, though nothing comes out.
Finally, all at once, the tension releases, a wave of almost painful pleasure exploding from my core outwards, then again, and again, and I’m sobbing and twitching and shaking as he fucks me through the pulses of an orgasm so powerful, I didn’t know my body was capable of it.
“Fuck,” Ashtaroth breathes, then slides his hands under my body to lift me up against him, moving me like a toy up and down his cock, grunting with each thrust, then impaling me so hard that I scream in pain. No one hears my scream, however. The roar he releases is so loud that crumbled bits of the ceiling are raining over us. His cock is kicking against the walls of my tunnel as he releases, warm heat bathing my insides, and the feeling of it, coupled with the memory of his words, makes me moan.
While his panting breaths warm the side of my face, I see Sariel sitting casually on the floor, one arm resting on a knee, smiling at me. Armaros looks completely disheveled behind him, like every inch of him was grabbed, bit, squeezed, and licked.
Sounds from the rest of the guests still enjoying each other filter in. Reality smacks me like a rogue baseball bat and I bury my face in Ashtaroth’s neck. The arousal I still felt even after my orgasm now withers. I’m crashing from the high of my release so fast that my limbs are trembling uncontrollably.
Feeling the change, he squeezes me with the arms that are still wrapped around my body. Holding me aloft, he takes a step back, then turns on his heel towards the servant’s entrance on the side of the dais and exits the dining hall without a word to anyone, his dick still mostly hard inside me.
Chapter 23 – Ashtaroth
The little lamb is worrying herself into exhaustion as I carry her to my rooms.
I don’t see the problem – I believe I showed remarkable restraint when taking her this first time. She will need to get accustomed to the rougher play that pleases me: moans of pain, the flush of humiliation… my prick twitches inside her as I imagine her crying while tied open and left at the brink of release for hours. Her breath catches enticingly and I grin.
And while I do understand that being fucked and fed from with an entire demonic court in attendance is probably not the fantasy of the average mortal woman, I did not share her with them. I did not throw her into the gathered crowd after my releasefor them to use.
I growl at the thought of the rest of my court’s spend leaking out of her available holes. Never before have I kept a bed partner for myself. In fact, I am tempted to make Sariel spend the night in the dungeons for merely being close enough to smell her arousal. What is it about this little Nephalem?
We reach my wing and I carry her to my bedroom. Even I must rest occasionally, at least as long as I maintain a corporeal form. I have never let anyone else touch my bed though; the thought always disgusted me. Not feeling any revulsion over my new belonging being the first, I turn toward it so I can lay her down.
I am far too old to dither over my feelings and question my motivations – taking her tonight showed me that I am far from done with her. I want to do every depraved thing I can think of to her – some of them in this bed.
As I lift her off my cock, a rush of wetness spills from between her legs to pour over mine and onto the floor. I growl and reluctantly place her on the mattress. She curls into herself and I cover her with a heavy blanket despite the warm air permeating my domain. The way she shivers now is not pleasing to me.
And no, I will not clean our mutual spend – I was not jesting when I told her that she is to be a vessel for my come at all times. I have an unusual thought then – of breeding her until she is swollen with my child, of having her birth me many children, a legacy for me. The fantasy makes me grab hold of my still-wet prick and stroke it. I shake my head trying to make sense of these notions.
I may have even had children over the eons, though if I did, it was never brought to my attention. I certainly did not raise any as my own. I never cared about descendants. The thought of having them with an Elioud is laughable. They would still be merely Cambion, though perhaps far stronger than most.
I release my member and turn to the bathing quarters, resisting the urge to make her clean it with her mouth.
By the time I return her breathing is deep and even. She is asleep. Being unaccustomed to sleeping next to anyone, I instead grab my robes and head out towards my throne room – there isalways work to do when you are a ruler of Hell.
