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)
The bed rocked violently beneath us, slick with a mixture of blood and sweat. I removed my hand from her mouth, placing it down on the mattress to better brace myself while wrapping her long hair tighter around my other hand.
"Oh god," she panted,. "Alex, please..." she pleaded, her hands gripping the sheets so tightly they turned white.
“God?" I growled between thrusts, relishing the way her moans escalated into desperate screams of pleasure. “There is no longer a God in your world, deliciae. Only the Devil and he's already inside of you."
Her body began to shake as I punctuated each word with a deep thrust. My eyes fell to the mark I had carved into her back, and I nearly came right then like an inexperienced fucking teenager. I increased my pace, my body slamming into hers until we were both lost in a frenzy of carnal release.
“Fuck. I need to come.” I smacked her ass hard, leaving a handprint and adding another layer of sensation to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through us. She mewled, and her pussy clenched around my cock. “So beautifully responsive,” I groaned, feeling her body yield to me. Another swift strike, this time on the opposite cheek, and she whimpered, her breath catching as she arched beneath me, offering herself up like a perfect sacrifice.
Her cries echoed through the room, growing louder, and more desperate, as though she were caught between pleasure and torment. Each sound she made was a hymn to the Devil, a tribute to the power I held over her. The tension in my body tightened, coiling like a viper ready to strike. My control frayed, the familiar pull of release on the horizon. "That’s it, deliciae," I ground out, driving her into the mattress.
Her gaze found mine—wild, unfocused, her pupils blown wide with desire and submission.
I could feel her walls tightening around me, pulling me deeper into her. She clawed at the sheets as if trying to tether herself to reality, but I wouldn’t allow it. There was no reality outside of me, outside of us.
"Alex!" she screamed, her voice raw and frantic as she came.
The force of her release pushed me closer to the edge, driving me into that sweet abyss. My hands gripped her, holding her in place as I kissed her savagely, claiming her mouth as I had claimed her body. I thrust into her one final time, deep and hard before I stilled, the tension snapping as I emptied myself inside her pussy with a low moan and soft curse.
For a few moments, we lay entwined, continuing to kiss as I softened inside her. I reluctantly pulled out, wanting to hold onto this feeling for just a little longer.
As I gazed upon her face, I saw sweat and tears mingling together as she caught her breath, her eyes still wild with a mixture of lust and dread. She looked both elated and lost, a reflection of her internal struggle. I looked down at the mess we had made, remnants scattered across the sheets and clinging to our skin. I couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction and pride. I kissed her once more, this time with tenderness and affection. She didn’t push me away or protest.
"Another shower," I muttered, my voice low as I pulled away. She lay still beneath me, too exhausted to protest, too drained to even form a thought. The tension that had coiled through her moments ago had dissipated. I stood, offering her my hand. "Come on," I urged softly. "Let’s get cleaned up."
She blinked slowly, eyes unfocused, as if searching for the energy to move. For a moment, I thought she might refuse, but then she reached out and placed her hand in mine.
Her fingers were delicate in my grasp, her skin soft and warm beneath my palm. I squeezed just enough to remind her of my power, how easily I could break her if I ever chose to. She stumbled as I pulled her to her feet, her legs trembling with exhaustion. Instinctively, I steadied her, drawing her closer. For a brief moment, her head rested against my chest, and I breathed in the familiar scent of her—sweat and the faint trace of the shampoo I had chosen.
I looked down at her and kissed the top of her head. Mentally, I wanted her again. Physically, I couldn’t force my dick to rise on command after coming so soon—three times for the night already. Maybe I needed to look into what men took down at the Pleasure House to keep themselves hard for hours. My Lolita wouldn’t be able to handle that, but it would be a dream for me. I held her closer, leading her toward our bathroom.
There was a raw intimacy in this silence, a vulnerability she only allowed in the aftermath. When the tension between us settled, when her resistance ebbed away, this was the version of her I craved most. The one that let herself be weak in my presence.