Page 38 of The River of Fire
She obeys like a good pet and I slide in until her lips envelop the turgid head. Her tongue rubs against the sensitive flesh and I grit my teeth. “Fuuuck. I knew you would be a whore for my cock.” She moans at my hissed words and I grab hold of her head. “Take a breath,” I warn. She trembles in apprehension.Fear not, sweetness. This won’t take long.
I push my prick as far as it can go and feel the tip of her nose near my sack. Her throat tightens convulsively and she chokes, her teeth digging into sensitive flesh with the movement. She could chew on it like a corn cob and I would still fuck her mouth until completion. Saliva is leaking out from between her lips, lubricating the way. I slide back and advance farther until I see myself stretching her throat from the inside. I growl, losing sense of everything other than the drive to achieve release. Pumping faster, I grunt like a wild animal. I place a palm on her neck, feeling my cock nudging against it, and my head tips back on a feeling of possession so strong, I want to beat against my chest like a primate.
The noises she makes are desperate, making my blood sing. Her knees draw up as she runs out of air and the thought of her losing consciousness as I continue to use her throat selfishly pushes me into release. With a shout, I buck my hips forward and release my come down her throat. My muscles tense and release in pleasure and, once some clarity returns, I pull halfway back, still pulsing in her mouth. As she swallows me down, I caress her abused throat.
Finally, I pull out and crouch in front of her. Her cheeks are red and wet with tears, and her breathing is hoarse. I caress her wrecked face. “You please me tremendously, my little lamb.”
Her pupils are dilated and she reeks of the lust I stoked within her with my rough use. It is my nature to know exactly which acts of depravity arouse her and I will use that knowledge until she is enslaved to the sensations only I can provide.
“I am not done with you yet, sweetness.” I position her back in the center of the bed and flip her onto her stomach. Spreading her legs enough to enter her, I fist my still-hard cock and drag it between her cheeks. She tenses and I chuckle before continuing to her soaked entrance. Without preamble, I mount her in one thrust. She moans weakly at the intrusion, the sound amusing me.
“Poor thing,” I mock as I lay myself on top of her, her round ass cushioning my pelvis. I swivel my hips and grind against her, thehead of my cock rubbing against her sensitive front wall until she purrs in pleasure. “That’s it,” I praise her. “Take it for me.”
I build her up slowly, enjoying the wet sounds of our joining, the desperate edge of my lust now blunted enough that my behavior is no longer bestial. Feeling her build towards completion, I slide a hand under her body and rub at her center.
Her breathing picks up as she tries to push back against me, chasing sensation. “There you go,” I whisper. “Come on my cock.” I roughen my strokes. “Come on my fingers.” I speed up my ministrations. “Come for your master.”
I would laugh at how easily I push her over the edge, unintelligible keening coming from her mouth and her body shuddering under me, if the powerful clenching of her cunt didn’t squeeze a release out of me as well.
“Fuck!” I growl and embed myself deeply, flooding her womb with my spend.
We both pant as we recover, and I would stay inside her for hours, were I not crushing her with my weight. I push up on my hands so I can sit back, then spread her cheeks to watch myself leaking out of her pink hole. Mmm.
Since she is depleted, I move away from the enticing sight to hand her the glass of water that came with her dinner. Her swallows look painful and she hands me the glass only half empty. “Can you not heal your throat?” I ask, bewildered.
“Just a little bit.” Her voice is completely ruined and my spent balls jump. “You should have thought about that before you skullfucked me,” she rasps, mistaking my wince for remorse – I feel none. I laugh at her crude dry humor. Perhaps Sariel was right – my moodisbetter these days.
“Sleep,” I command, and lean forward to lick the water drops clinging to her lips. She tenses but says nothing as I move back, her eyes heavy and already closing. Soon her breathing is deep and even, and I pull the blanket up to cover her cooling skin.
I suppose both of my hungers are sated enough that I could attempt to sleep in the bed with her. After dimming the lanterns, I climb in next to her. The fact that she sleeps throughmy weight shifting the mattress tells me how much I drained her. I may have to be more careful. I scoff at myself – the notion is foreign to me.
As I look at her in the darkness, I contemplate. A leopard cannot change its spots, but I am willing to paint over some of mine to keep her content and amenable.
Chapter 28 – Lana
Something thumps onto the bed near my head and my eyes pop open. I’m faced with my reflection in two huge, wholly black orbs. I scream, my throat protesting, and the creature in front of me shoots back, the extended wings at its back making the motion comically slow. Once it lands, it runs towards the door.
“Wait!” I rush out, sitting up – and clutching the blanket to my naked chest, thank you very much. The rascal stops and turns his head slightly so one wary eye is visible.
“Puck, right?” I ask gently. “I’m sorry I scared you. I didn’t expect to see anyone, especially not that close.” Puck faces me fully, holding his arms behind his back under his wings, and peers up at me from a lowered head. How can a demon be so gosh darn cute?
“What are you doing here?” I try to keepmy voice soothing, not wanting him to run again. He just chirps at me. Right. “I don’t speak… whatever that language is, sorry.” He doesn’t seem to mind and starts exploring the bedroom instead, poking his head into my dresser.
“Do you know where Ashtaroth is?” The imp pops back out of the dresser, wearing one of my flats like a hat on his thorns. I bite my fist. Judging by the excited chirping and hopping, he does know where Ash is, so I carefully wrap the blanket around me and, after telling Puck to wait in the bedroom while I get dressed, close myself into the bathroom to make use of the facilities.
Refreshed and dressed, I come out to see that Puck has strewn clothes from my dresser around the room. I can see how servants may call this demon the bane of their existence.
“Let’s go, little hurricane.” I open the door and he darts out, heading out of the wing and, judging by the familiar décor in the hallways we take, towards the throne room.
On the way, Puck bumps into a candelabra, and a candle topples off, right onto some gigantic creature’s hide. The fire must be enhanced somehow, because neither the fall nor my frantic stomps extinguish it. I try smothering the flame with ether as a last-ditch resort. Thankfully, it works and I blow hair out of my eyes before giving the imp a stern look. He’s affected a pose of such pitiful regret that I can’t bring myself to yell at the little pest. “Come on,” I say instead. “Walk in the center of the hallway.”
I hear murmurs of conversation coming from the throne room as we near it and see demons – courtiers – exiting, whatever gathering that occupied Ashtaroth probably concluded.
Puck and I walk in and I stop dead in my tracks. The archdemon is sitting on his throne and there’s a half-naked sex demon perched in his lap. Her skin is a milky green color, her hair a deeper emerald.
“Maybe you can jog my memory?” she purrs in his face.
He sighs and rubs at his forehead, eyes closed. “You know nothing, Itra. Leave.”
