“Say something, Priest or I’ll gut you like a fucking fish.” The knife pushes harder yet not enough to break the skin.
Time to play this game. “Please don’t. I don’t want to die.” I know I won’t, but I try to channel my emotions and feelings from our first encounter.
It’s completely dark in here. Way darker than normal. I can’t see anything. My sense of smell and touch are more alive, grabbing for every detail they can. My mouth starts to water. My breathing increases, not from fear but lust.
His nose grazes along my neck. “I don’t believe you. I think you want to die.”
“No. I swear I want to live.” And I do.
“Then show me how much you value your life.” Suddenly I’m pulled away from the wall and the knife disappears. He spinsme around and forces me to my knees. They scream in protest from the impact with the floor. “Open your mouth and sing your prayers.”
I open my mouth but hesitate. What does he mean when he says I should sing my prayers? He tells me. “Start the prayer about how mighty your God is.”
I catch on quickly and begin. “Heavenly Father, Your greatness is unsearchable. I stand in awe of Your power, Your wisdom, and Your love. Thank you for creating me—” And then my words are cut off. He shoves his dick in my mouth. He wanted me to praise him like he is my God, and he is becoming just that.
I have no idea what to do. I’ve never had a man’s penis in my mouth. My brain shifts back to the times he’s done this to me. How it felt, what he did. I know I have to move. My tongue takes the lead. I swirl it around, feeling the girth of him. He has thick veins.
Pulling my head back, I continue to explore with my tongue. I come to the end and discover he has his foreskin. What does it look like? Even if I pulled off, I couldn’t see. It’s too dark in here. The darkness is allowing me to be brave. I grip him at the base, and he moans. Peppering kisses up and down his shaft, I feel him grow even thicker. The sensation of him under my lips is other worldly.
A hand weaves into my hair and grips tight. My head is forced back. If I could see, I’d be staring into the soul of the Reaper. “Stop praising me and suck. I want you fighting for air.”
He’s back in my mouth with force. He wants me to suck, and that’s what I do. He’s directing me, but I want to continue to worship him. I hollow my cheeks and allow instinct to take over. His hand in my hair moves my head back and forth. I do nothing but suck and become a vessel for him to use.
Everything hurts. My jaw aches from being so open, my throat burns from the way he slams into it. He wasn’t joking about my lack of oxygen. He holds himself snuggly in the back. My muscles constrict, fighting the intrusion. Tears fall from my eyes. My body fears I’ll die. But I know I won’t. He won’t allow that. He’s only pushing me as far as I can go.
A calm settles over me at that realization. He may push me but he won’t let me fail. And fail I won’t. I need him to know I trust him. My hands rise up to his thighs, feeling the denim of the jeans he wears. They move without me even thinking about it and come to rest behind him, firmly grasping his ass. I push on them, forcing him even deeper down my throat. All my air has officially been cut off. I don’t care.
“Fuck, you dirty boy.” His grip in my hair tightens. The sting excites me even more.
His cock jumps, and it encourages me on as well. I push him as far back as I can take him and he loses all control. The salty explosion floods my mouth. It’s so much I don’t think I can take it all. I’ve tasted myself on his tongue, but his flavor is different. It’s headier. If I was to drown, I would gladly it be by his seed.
I’m released and my body falls back. I cough and hack, guilty I couldn’t swallow it all.
Declan is on the ground the next moment, grabbing me and pulling me into an embrace. He rubs my head, soothing me. “You’re okay.” He’s consoling me, but why? I didn’t hate or have any issues with what we did. I fucking loved it.
“Talk to me, baby. Are you okay? I’m so sorry I took it too far.” He kisses my cheek.
I shake my head in disagreement. “I’m fine.” My voice sounds harsh and gritty. Clearly from the abuse my throat just took.
He’s apologizing while I feel alive. The most I’ve ever felt alive. I need more of this. More of him. I turn so I’m straddlinghim. My hands find his head and direct him to me. I kiss him with a ferocity I didn’t even know I possessed.
25
DECLAN
Something pulls me from sleep. Looking over, Ewen is still completely out, and the clock behind him reads 3:33. I hear the sound again. It’s his cat, Beetlejuice or whatever odd name he gave the furball, meowing to get attention. He’s decent for being a cat. I usually have to give him a handful of treats to keep him from alerting anyone of my presence. He’s a very vocal animal. Rolling over, a bloody scene greets me.
After our rendezvous earlier, I pulled down the fabric I used to cover the windows. Ewen likes sleeping with the moon as his nightlight. I’m nothing but accommodating. The light shining in is enough to display his cat, holding a very dead mouse in his mouth. He didn’t just catch it, he toyed with it. Feasted on it.
And his face looks of pure joy. I know that face, as I’ve worn it many times in life. He likes the kill.
Not wanting Ewen to see his furry companion so messy, I roll out of bed and pick him up. He stays quiet while I wash him off in the bathroom. Aren’t cats supposed to hate water? He clearly didn’t get the memo. While drying him off, I scratch under his chin and he purrs. “I think calling you Murder Mittens was spot on.” His purr ramps up, making me feel like he’s in agreement. I clean up the dead mouse and wipe away any blood I find. It’sbeen awhile since I’ve had to clean a scene, and this makes me miss killing. And smoking. I haven’t had one since before my incident. Ewen alone has sated me and the need for the damn things hasn’t been there.
Ewen slept the whole time I cleaned, exhausted from our playtime. Good because I will be doing that again. He is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. I can’t wait to introduce Ewen to all the dirty, nasty things we can do together.
My phone rings. Nobody calls me this late unless there’s business to handle. Grabbing my phone before it wakes Ewen, I see I’m right. It’s Ciaran. “You know that problem I told you about?” he asks as I walk out of the bedroom.
“Yeah.”
