I’m terrified. I’m thrilled.
His cock stiffens harder, lodged at my opening.
“My Creator-Father was cruel,” he rasps. “But he did not skimp on the nerves. I feel everything. Every lash. Every scar.” He bares his teeth. “Once it was a curse. Now it is a blessing. For when I fuck you?—”
He thrusts. Just an inch. But with him, an inch is an invasion. I scream.
And all but squirt.
His smile grows dark and wicked. “Yes. I feel it. I smell it. You gush for me.”
Another thrust, deeper, driving me into the mattress. My body stretches, receives him. Impossible, unbearable, and yet—somehow—I take him.
“You love fucking a monster,” he growls in my ear, tongue dragging up my throat, lingering wetly on my pulse.
I shudder, moan. God help me.
And then he licks down my throat again, along my pulse point. Not a single claiming stroke, but long, relentless grooming licks like a lion with his mate.
“You love being fucked by a monster,” he whispers against my skin. “Your body bends for me. Squeals for me. Obeys me.”
“Never,” I bite back, fury sparking through the haze.
His nostrils flare. His grin widens. “All I must do…”
One wing whips forward, silken feathers slipping between us.
“…is press the right button.”
A feather strums my clit.
“Oh!” My cry tears out of me. My face buries in his neck as he suckles my throat, tongue teasing, claiming, overwhelming me.
“Oh!” I cry again as he continues to lick and now suckle at my throat with his long tongue.
There are simply too many sensations at once.
His monstrous cock penetrating me, plus his mouth, and his devilishness—it’s so much all at once. I can’t—how can I?—
He’s a demon.
He’s a miracle.
I reach my arms around his waist and clutch him to me. But before I can enclose him, he pulls back and spins me around so that I’m face down on the bed.
“You will be my obedient consort.”
The absence of his cock is a shock but not for long.
“Ah!” I cry as he pushes in again. I’m stretched and he goes in… not easily, butohhhhhhhhhh. I wail as he begins to fuck me again.
He grasps my hands and holds them behind my back.
Which makes me… oh God, it makes me gush.
Why does everything he does to me make me feel so much? Is he telling the truth about not influencing me? God, what does it say about me if he’s not? If this is all… just… me?
Oh fuck, the tip of his wing is at it again. At least, one wing is. Because just when I think there can’t be any more assault on my senses, his other wing?—
