Hevan
The coldness of the table sends a wake of shivers up and down my spine. The way he roughly parts my thighs and stares down at my apex like a predator has a rush of arousal gushing from my opening, then his tongue darts out, hungry and wild. He lowers himself to his knees, the room silent, unless you count the snivels of a man undeserving of my attention and guilt.
A moan lodges behind the ball gag, and saliva gathers in my mouth. I’m at his mercy; we all are. The devil is about to take me, and I welcome the violence behind his eyes, the sheer and utter dominance of his touch.
The first swipe of his tongue through my slick folds is pure bliss, and I push my hips forward to encourage him, reveling in the way he smiles against the throbbing of my clit.
He knows.
He knows I want this as much as him.
He laps at me, humming, and the vibrations have anerotic intensity gathering in my core. I tug on the chains above my head, and muffled words erupt from Stefan. I strain my neck to glance back at him, and my heart skips a beat when I realize the chain I’m attached to is the same one attached to his cock.
Oh, sweet Jesus. We’re torturing him.
I glance down at Azrael, and the dangerous glint in his eyes as he smirks into my pussy has a wave of ecstasy leaving me.
This is fucked up.
I drop my head back against the cool metal, telling myself not to tug on the chains. But each languorous stroke of his tongue is as if he’s making love to my pussy with a passion I wasn’t aware he was capable of.
My thrusts become more forceful as rapture builds inside me, and he curls his tongue, prodding my hole with a low, rumbling vibration.
He creates a V with his fingers and laps at my pussy with vigor while I rub against the scruff on his chin, grateful for the roughness between my tender thighs.
“Ahh,” I mumble. I want to scream, and God, do I try, but the ball in my mouth leaves me incapable. A gurgling sound flows from me instead.
The pressure mounts inside me like a surge of flames seeking oxygen, ready to combust at any second.
The sound of his zipper lowering has my eyes rolling, and when he slams inside me, I pull the chain tighter, causing a blood-curdling scream to echo through the sex permeating the air. Azrael pumps faster and faster, plunging into me with purpose. He focuses on me like a man possessed, and I guess he is. Completely and utterly possessed.
“Fuck. You’re mine,” he grits out, becoming louder and louder. “Fucking mine.”
The chains clatter, the table vibrates, and my clit throbs with an intensity so powerful I know the orgasm will be euphoric. My moans echo his, and my body comes alive for him. He’s awakened something deadly inside of me, and I welcome it.
The scent of blood fills my nostrils, and Azrael slides his hand up my throat and presses on my pressure points in an action that’s soothing yet dominating. With one more thrust, I tug the chain and arch my spine, welcoming the stars dancing before my eyes, and fly into ecstasy, riding the waves of my pleasure.
My pussy milks his cock, pulling him over the edge with me, and our bodies fall lax against the sobs of Stefan.
Azrael slips out of me, then drives his fingers deep inside me, and I take a moment to register his action for what it is; he’s pushing his cum back inside me. Then he tucks himself back into his pants and buckles them up.
He leans over me, dropping a kiss in the center of my chest. “I could spend all day with you gagged and needy for me.” A soft, unusual smile plays on his lips, with a hint of his demonic self shining behind his eyes. Then he reaches above me and unclasps my wrists. I sit up and glance over my shoulder.
Horror hits me. Stefan’s cock lies on the floor while his open wound pours blood at his feet.
“I don’t want him looking at you!” Azrael spits, and I jolt at the protective, spite-laced tone of his bellow.
His long legs eat the distance, and he strides with purpose toward the table housing the tools. “You don’t look at what’s mine, you piece of shit!” He flips open a knife before rushing toward Stefan and slamming it into his eye. A popmakes me wince, and I refuse to investigate, knowing he’s torn out Stefan’s organ. I curl in on myself, pulling my legs up to my chest as the screams bounce around the room.
Another loud roar leaves Azrael, and the sound ricochets off the concrete walls like a drum. “You.” A choked sound can be heard. “Mother.” I wince, and a sob catches in my throat. “Fucker!”
I hurry to detach the ball gag from my face and spit it out, swiping away the dribble coating me. I drop it to the floor and glance over my shoulder.
“A-Azrael?”
He turns his head to the side but doesn’t face me. The black wings on his back portray the deadly savage he so perfectly is. A dark angel in a world of corruption.
“Please. Just end it,” I whisper, and he ducks his head in return.
