Page 32 of Devoured By Demons

Gentle fingers trace my pussy and lightly glide over my clit as he leans down, his breath hot against my ear. “Cry, baby. Cry for them… cry for me.”

He lifts his hand from my center to shove his fingers into my mouth. Everything inside me shouts to turn away, to plead with him to stop. But my tongue laps at him, desperate to taste the sweat that beads on his skin.

The man shoves his fingers further into my mouth, causing me to gag. My wide eyes dart to his, reminding me that I need to make this believable. Writhing beneath his weight, I cry out and struggle against his hold. My hands grip his huge biceps, and I dig my nails into his flesh as I clamp my eyes shut and scream.

“Nonono, stop, please!” I shout as his fingers slide from my mouth and return to relentlessly rubbing my clit before they delve deep into my pussy. “NO!” I scream again when endorphins flood my body and pleasure takes over.

Grabbing my throat with one hand, he squeezes. “So fuckin’ pretty when I’m choking you…” he whispers, and a rush of wetness soaks his hand.

Oh my god. What’s happening to me?

He drags his fingers from my needy pussy. I cry out at the loss while in the background, grunts and laughter come from the men surrounding us. I let them believe I’m crying in pain and return my focus to the man who’s sliding his slick fingersover his hard cock. The sight of him stroking himself sends an involuntary shiver through my body.

Cock in his hand, he gives it a few rough strokes before he positions the head at my entrance. Eyes on me the entire time, I catch a glimpse of the darkness that lingers there and remember that this man, no matter how beautiful he is on the outside, is nothing but danger and depravity.

So why don’t my cries feel forced? Why is my body begging for his while my mind begs for clarity?

When his eyes darken and his jaw clenches, I remember… make them believe. As he enters me with one, harsh thrust, I suck in a breath and release a scream.

“Take it,” he says loud enough for everyone to hear. “Take my cock.” His demanding pace never falters as his lips find my ear, and once again he whispers so that only I can hear, “You gonna come on my cock, baby?”

I don’t even know who I am anymore. Enveloped in lust, I nod, my pussy chasing ecstasy. Seconds later, I pulse around him. He groans as his cock jerks inside me, filling me.

The heady scent of sex hangs in the air, but I can’t stop the bile rising in my throat when I hear the grunts and groans of my father’s men getting off on the thought of me being raped right in front of their eyes.

My stomach coils in knots, and tears well in my eyes at what I’ve just endured, but Mr. Cyler’s words pull me back from the edge of a panic attack.

“I’m not the devil you think I am, sweetheart, just one of his demons.”

Chapter 12

Demon

What the fuck was I thinking? Fucking her like a whore in front of those bastards… in front of her fucking father?It made me sick to my stomach, but I knew Manuel. If I wanted to walk out of there alive, I had to perform.

What’s worse? The feeling of rightness I found when my dick slid inside her pussy.

Home.

That’s what she felt like. And now I’m fuckin’ spiraling. This isn’t how it was supposed to happen.

You can’t save her, Zain.

When the shower stops running, I begin pacing the dingy hotel room again. There was no way in hell I was taking her to my house. There’s no doubt in my mind Santos had me followed back here.

A peek through the blinds confirms my suspicions.

Across the street, a sleek, black BMW sticks out like a sore thumb in the neighborhood we’re in. In the passenger seat, I recognize the man as one of the onlookers from our performance. His eyes never left Isadora as he tugged his tiny cock, wishing it was him inside her cunt.

The bathroom door cracks open and Isadora walks out wearing a pair of black leggings and a loose t-shirt. I wasn’t prepared for this. All I picked up at the store was a pair of leggings and a couple of tees.

My plan was to get a look at how the auctions are run, and where the girls are kept. I thought that, given the chance, I’d bid on a random girl, take her to the closest hospital, and give her a chance at freedom.

But that was before the girl I bought was Isadora fuckin’ Santos.

Fucking fuck. The hell do I do now?

Isadora stands by the bathroom door, arms covered in goosebumps as she nervously twists her fingers.

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