Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 127933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
“Then submit to me completely.”
A strange sense of clarity washed over me. With newfound determination, I arched my back and spread my legs wider, feeling his cock thrust deeper into me as the chains dug deeper into my flesh, the mark on my back stinging as my body jostled against the stone altar.
“Fuck," he cursed harshly, “Your pussy is so fucking wet. You love this, don't you?”
His accusation sent a ripple of shame and desire coursing through me. “Yes,” I gasped, “I do.”
He smirked, a wicked glint in his eyes. “That’s my girl. Now let’s see if the Devil approves.”
My entire body trembled as the pleasure grew to an unbearable peak. I moaned, my voice rising in pitch.
“Are you ready?” he questioned, his voice a low rumble in my ear.
My heart raced with anticipation as I nodded, feeling a surge of adrenaline coursing through my veins.
"Then surrender to me," he commanded, his words dripping with raw desire and domination.
In that instant, I gave myself over completely to him, feeling a dark and primal energy pulsating within me. My back arched in pleasure and pain as I pressed against the unyielding stone, the chains cutting into my skin. My climax hit me like a wave crashing against the shore, and I couldn’t hold back the cry that tore from my throat.
My body shook, my hands instinctively gripping the altar as I tried to steady myself, but even in the release, the suffocating weight of the Devil’s gaze remained, grounding me in the dark reality of what I’d done. My vision tunneled, the statue and the man, all merging into one. The other Devil, the one beneath the skin of the gorgeous, twisted man that had me at his mercy. His eyes were dark and predatory, as he continued to fuck me, choking me, teasing me.
As my orgasm receded, I felt him tense further, his cock throbbing inside me, his grip on my throat like a vise.
"Fuck, Lolita," he rasped, followed by a string of words in his foreign tongue. His lips pulled away from my ear as he let out a guttural groan and he came, filling me with his darkness. I could feel the power of his release, an affirmation of our twisted union.
He kissed my cheek and then pulled away from me, bracing himself with one hand on the altar for support. His eyes seemed different when they met mine, darker somehow. A flicker of a smile crossed his lips as he slowly withdrew his cock, leaving behind a mess of blood and come between my legs.
In the silence that followed, I could hear the distant sound of rain tapping against the Chapel windows, a soft, rhythmic reminder of the world outside.
He undid the chains around my wrists with slow, deliberate movements, each clink of the metal against the altar echoing in the empty room.
As I stood there, trembling, and vulnerable, I realized I felt no freer than I had before I was bound. The weight of his presence still pressed against me; his claim still burned into my skin. Freedom was an illusion, and chains or not I was still captive—by him, by this place, by everything I could never escape.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The rain hadn’t let up when we finally returned to the estate. Lolita’s small frame was wrapped in one of the suit jackets I kept at the Chapel. I had placed it around her before I carried her outside, secure in my arms like the precious doll she was.
Raindrops had soaked her hair slightly, droplets clinging to the dark and gold strands as we made our way inside. She'd been quiet the entire ride back, her thoughts elsewhere, perhaps on the mark I’d left on her back or the events that transpired afterward.
I wondered how she’d feel if she knew my father and brother had watched every second of me fucking her from the viewing room.
Dad had probably returned home and done the same to my mother—Emilio would be at the pleasure house, fucking the woman that resembled Esther. I glanced down at Lolita. Her head was lowered, eyes focused on the floor, but even like this, with wet hair and my oversized jacket draped over her shoulders, she was stunning. Too beautiful for her own good.
She was fortunate I’d come for her when I did—men went crazy over her and it was only by my grace and that of the close friend that owned the resort she worked at, she’d been left alone. If Anya would’ve had her way Lolita would’ve been being fucked by a dozen men a month—that stupid slut.
Now, locked inside the estate, the rain drummed against the windows like a beautiful sound wave.
I led Lolita towards the grand staircase, her footsteps barely audible over the steady pitter-patter. She was so much smaller than I was. I slowed my pace, and she followed suit, a submissive gesture that thrilled me to no end. I didn’t want to part from her for even a second. I’d already been away too long since this morning. Unfortunately, as much as I wanted to explore our newfound connection, I had unfinished business before we could fully indulge in one another.